Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Blair
Lorkan kissed Blair like she was salvation. He tasted of smoke and things she shouldn’t want. His lips molded to hers with a demanding desperation, like his kiss was a plea, and Blair’s body betrayed her, falling into him.
This is wrong, a voice whispered in the back of her mind.
The valley vanished. Like her body lifted from the grassy ground, a sense of suspension locked into her knees.
But Lorkan held her close. Stars above, he’d grown a full foot since they were teenagers, towering over her, but his one hand cupped her cheek and while the other gripped her waist, keeping her steady as she stood on her tiptoes.
It began to drizzle, but neither of them cared. The stinging cold and roaring winds only drew Blair and Lorkan closer. Droplets pelted Blair’s face, and rain and tears mixed with their kiss. Lorkan tilted her head farther back, driving his hand into her curls, and Blair swore she heard him curse.
You need this, her thoughts continued.
Thunder clapped above, and temptation zapped through Blair like lightning. She’d believed she was a strong woman, one who could face her vices, and yet, as she opened her mouth wider and encouraged Lorkan’s kiss, she’d found the one thing that made her weak.
Him.
He’ll hurt you again.
Blair’s doubts blared in the back of her mind, and her bones rattled with the truth, not the booming storm brewing in the valley, but she didn’t care—it was as if she’d been locked in a cage, days without water, and Lorkan was her first sip. Blasted books, she would enjoy this.
Even if she never kissed him again. Because she couldn’t—right? Her palm stung from slapping Lorkan across the face, and yet there wasn’t much juxtaposition from that moment to this one. Both hurt.
Blair threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging Lorkan closer, drowning out the storm and her doubts. She embraced his touch, craved his harsh hold on her hips and the tentative hand against her cheek.
A muted growl rumbled through his chest—she’d not known he was capable of making the sound. Beastly. Reaching to her toes. But Blair’s surprise was short lived. Lorkan bit her bottom lip—not hard enough to draw blood—but enough to tug her lip and tease her with a delicious pain.
Yet, the more Lorkan kissed her, her heart expanded, threatening to burst. The tendrils of her soul tightened, and the scars running across her soul itched. Ached. Lorkan’s lips against hers didn’t soothe the hurt he’d caused, but reawakened them.
This is wrong. But this time, it wasn’t a phantom voice blaring in her mind but her own. This wasn’t right.
Winds whirled around them. Cold bit her fingertips and nipped her cheeks, and—
Blair opened her eyes during their kiss and spotted shadows leaking from her hands, intertwining into Lorkan’s dark hair.
But he was none the wiser—her shadows mingled with the whirling winds and chilly rain, a part of the storm.
Yet, the sight reminded Blair of stepping off the path, of what she herself had to hide from.
This will only cause you pain.
Panic jolted through Blair, and she pushed Lorkan away.
She hid her hands behind her back. Her shadows answered, rushing inward with a cold hiss, and Lorkan stumbled forward at the loss of contact. He blinked, water racing down the lens of his glasses.
They stood in silence in the wake of what they couldn’t take back. Hair matted by the rain, lips swollen and red from their kiss, Lorkan was untethered.
It reflected the unraveled heap of Blair’s heart.
He’d hurt her—and how dare he try to silence everything between them with a kiss? Blair had already stepped down this path with Lorkan, and shadows aside, she refused to do it again
He stepped toward her, reaching for her. “Blair—”
“I can’t, Lorkan,” she said over the storm.
He halted, and hurt flashed through his eyes. Blair’s stomach roiled at the sight, but she ignored the pang of guilt—this pain brewing between them was fleeting compared to the hurt they’d endure if they were fools again.
“We’ve been down this path, and it only leads to more hurt,” she whispered. “I won’t endure it a second time. I can’t.”
Rain ran down Lorkan’s sharp nose. “I’m sorry for everything. For what I did. For abandoning you. For not explaining why.”
Blair’s heart raced. She’d waited years to hear those words from him, and yet they did nothing. For his apology felt like a lie, and it wasn’t good enough.
“Then tell me the truth. Right here, right now. If you cared for me these last years, enough to look after me, why didn’t you come?”
Lorkan blinked. Flexed his hands at his sides. “My fear is the truth.”
It couldn’t be that simple. Blair’s instinct screamed with apprehension.
She’d been afraid at seventeen, frightened to tie herself to a male she’d have to keep secret for the rest of her days.
She’d lied to her parents and sisters, even to this day.
Yet, she’d traveled to Fika, not chained by doubt but rebelling against it.
Like a fool, she’d stepped out of line. Entertaining a romance with Lorkan was her first offense. Seeking out Kade had been her second. Saving Evelyn from Circe had been her last. What did her efforts outside being a scholar bring her? Nothing but pain.
“I can’t,” she said again, not to Lorkan but to herself.
Everything ached—her chest, head, and lips. Goddess, her bones and limbs weighed her down like stones. Lightning flashed above the sky, shining across Lorkan’s beautiful, sharp features, and in that moment, Blair realized she wasn’t as weak as she thought; she could walk away from this. Would.
Vísdómr loomed in the distance. She had a purpose, a scholarly task to attend to. That kept her safe. Books, research, and the confines of a library.
“What makes now any different?” she asked.
“We are older,” Lorkan breathed.
“You’re right.” Blair smiled, sadness sour on her tongue.
“We are also wiser, Lorkan. You and I know better. What sense is there in hurting ourselves all over again? I plan to figure out how to break the curse, Lorkan. That is my place here. If we must work together, so be it, but that is all we are to one another: peers.”
Blair marched towards Vísdómr. The storm raged above the mountain and valley, but its might was nothing compared to the one brewing in her soul.