Chapter Twelve #3
“No.” She quickly shook her head. “I mean, yes. I am a little scared, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. It’s what I’m here for. It’s just that we hardly know each other. There are things about both of us that we’re hiding. I can smell it on you.”
As the words I can smell it on you tumbled off her lips, she realized how strange they sounded. No other humans said anything like it. Only arcane beings. Yet another thing that set her apart.
He reached out, wrapping his big hand around hers.
“We’re not in a hurry, Mila.” He smiled like an uncertain boy, the squeeze of his fingers saying everything his words didn’t.
We’re not in a hurry, I’m still here and we’re not in a hurry, so don’t leave.
The smile turned her knees to soup. The smile scraped her insides out and left her hollow and ringing.
Mila tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s just all so new. Everything is so new, and I can’t really explain why, or how long it will last. You deserve to know that I’m not here forever.”
“What does that mean?”
Her eyes trailed to the west. Still no storm . . . yet. Stinna could be wreaking havoc anywhere, looking for Mila, but she hadn’t arrived here. Mila had to soak up every moment.
“It means this is a . . . I don’t know.” Frustrated, she released her grip on the bottle in her pocket and brought her hand out.
Clamping one of his hands with both of hers, she met his hard stare.
“This is a rebellious trip for me, Pedr. I escaped my family against their wishes. My aunt Stinna is already looking for me, and she’ll find me. ”
Unburdening the secret flooded her with relief and anxiety and terror at the same moment. Even if she tried to describe Stinna, it would be utterly pointless. No words existed in human languages to justify the depths of her general loathing, particularly for men.
“So?”
“She’s not a foe I can avoid forever,” she added with a hint of bitterness, “but I’m out of her grasp, at least for now. If I stay with you, I’ll put you in danger.”
“I’m not scared.”
“You should be.”
He stepped closer, crowding her. “You can’t make me abandon you.”
Mila’s breath quivered. They stood so close she felt the heat radiating from his chest. If she drew in a deep breath, they’d touch. His hand lifted, fingertips in her hair. The edge of his thumb grazed her jaw and goosebumps blanketed her back.
He asked, “Are you running away?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel unsafe?”
A nod. “Yes.” Before she could add, especially since you can’t fight them and win, he continued.
“Then I’ll keep you safe.”
His bedrock-hard tone shocked her. She scoffed. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve you don’t know about.”
“Stinna has more.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“So will you,” she countered, “if we foolishly underestimate the power of Stinna’s retribution.” Meeting his eyes, she said, “Pedr, I want to stay with you, but only if you understand that when I see signs of Stinna coming, you must leave.”
“I won’t.”
“Then we part now.”
She pushed back, but he grabbed her elbow. His grip didn’t hurt, but she felt steel in his hands.
“No.”
Frustration brought tears to her eyes. Oh, how she loathed her instant emotion. Ignoring the urge to rip her arm from his hand—how warm and soft his touch!—she whispered, “There’s more, but I’m not ready to tell you yet.”
Because then you’ll figure out I’m a siren. She completed the thought in her head, unable to bear it. What human would trust a siren?
“It doesn’t matter what you have to say,” he countered with irritating stubbornness.
He moved closer, head bent. Her knuckle grazed the side of his rib, and a shudder shook his shoulders.
“Every minute with you is worth it. Without you, my existence is just air. Sea. Silence. Until you rode with me, I had no idea what I was missing.”
More words hovered on her lips.
If you knew what I am, you’d run away. You’d think I was na?ve and insane and an idjit. Pedr, if you knew . . .
Curiosity and something deeper, feral, visceral held her utterances. This was never meant to last. In her heart, she never dreamed she’d escape Stinna, make it off from the Westlands, and into the wide world without immediate capture.
Yet . . . it happened. Elestra offered all she ever dreamed. Which made her think maybe this could last. What if everything she once knew had been wrong? What if her plan worked better than she ever dreamed?
Pedr trailed a knuckle down her cheek. “Is your time truly that limited?”
“It could be.”
“How long?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t know. Hours. Days. If I’m very lucky, weeks.”
“Is there a chance that she never finds you?”
Mila lifted her hand to cover his. “With you? A very, very small one.”
Fire ignited in his eyes, and she recognized the acceptance of a challenge when she saw one.
“Good,” he growled. “We’ll avoid her forever. Together. We’ll keep moving, never stay in one spot for very long. I will live on the sea with you for the rest of my life.”
Did she imagine the slight tremor in his words? Tears bubbled in her eyes. “What if you’re caught and killed?”
He snorted. “Fat chance.”
“I don’t want to risk it. I?—”
He clamped a hand around the back of her neck. His other arm curved about her waist, yanked her into him. Their bodies came together with a shocked breath from her. Limp in his arms, she stared up at him.
“Pedr?”
“Mila, have you ever been kissed?”
Swallowing a hot rise of ecstasy and terror and excitement, she whispered, “No.”
“Then I’m going to kiss you until you forget where you are.
I’m going to kiss you until there’s nothing else on your mind.
No aunts, no fear, no running. Only me and you, here, on the beach, safe.
I’m going to continue to kiss you unless you want me to stop, and then you only have to say the word.
I will kiss you until the day turns to night, the sun fades away, and neither of us have the energy for more. ”
He paused, eyes darting between hers. The space between his declaration and the heart-skipping moment gave her the opportunity to study the smoldering passion in his stare, the heat. The growing fervor. She knew she could say no. This was the moment to stop him.
But she wanted nothing more than his lips on hers.
Her fingers threaded into his hair.
With a growl, he closed the distance between them.
Her stomach fluttered, her heart hummed.
A growing weight gained ballast at the bottom of her hips and expanded like fire.
He wrapped her in his arms, ravished her.
She gripped him close, smelling salt, and sea, and Pedr, and freedom, and affection, and all the things denied her.
All the things she sought.
All the light in the world.
In Pedr’s kiss.
That night, she curled up in Pedr’s arms on the ship’s deck.
He molded his body to her back and tucked a blanket around her shoulders.
Heat radiated from him. Memories cluttered the day.
A brilliant waterfall, another market, and new island customs. None of them haunted her as thoroughly as his heated kiss, tender touch.
Constant, never remitting, always present.
Heavy fatigue and wonder made her drowsy. Never had she experienced so many new things, people, languages.
So blessedly tired.
She faced west, scouring the horizon for lightning streaks or the smell of thunder.
A crosswind swept the air from south to north.
She smelled only the briny sea. Contentment.
The sprayed stars were too enticing to sleep through, but her eyes drifted closed despite her attempts to keep them open.
In her hand she cradled the rosenvatten jar; its cloying scent curled in her nose.
“Pedr?” she murmured.
His voice was a low rumble. “Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
She fell asleep with the wind in her ear and the feel of his lips pressing against her hair.