Chapter 36 Cethin #3
The words were nothing but a whisper. The pained agony of a tortured soul, and for reasons he’d never be able to explain, they had him surging forward.
Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t flinch back.
Not this time. No, this time she was leaning in as he brought his mouth to hers, tilting her face just right, and by the Fates, when did he suddenly not know what to do with himself when kissing someone?
He was debating what to do with his hands. Would she push him away if he touched her any more than he already was? If he cupped her jaw or slid his hand into her hair? Would she tense if he pressed his body against hers just to godsdamn feel her?
It was hard to think about any of that when her mouth was so warm.
He tried to be so careful as he tentatively licked along the seam of her lips, hoping he wasn’t pushing her too far or asking for too much.
He didn’t know with her. He never knew, and he both loved and hated it.
Loved that she was a constant enigma that kept him always wondering what she’d do next, and hated that he couldn’t read her.
Couldn’t figure her out. Never knew where he stood with her.
Knew that wasn’t entirely her fault but also resented her a little for it.
She pulled back, and he froze, waiting to see what she’d do next. Her breaths were fast as she stood so godsdamn still.
Until she pushed up onto her toes, capturing his lips again before he could do anything more than suck in a breath.
This kiss was aggressive and almost violent, so much like her, and still he fisted his hands at his sides, not willing to be the reason she stopped any of this.
It had to be her. She had to initiate all of it from here on out, because he knew if he let his control slip even a little, it would shatter completely.
With every tentative movement of her lips, he let himself get lost in her a little more. Every sense narrowed in on how soft her lips were against his. How slick her tongue was as it explored and fought with his. The soft sounds that came from her when he pressed back with his mouth.
He might not have touched her with his hands, but he’d told her he didn’t need them to make her feel.
Pulling back, the soft moan of disappointment turned into a sharp gasp of surprise when he dropped his lips to her neck.
She tipped her head back, and he worked his way up, pressing hard, wet, open-mouthed kisses as he went, marking his pathway to her ear.
That was when it happened.
Her hands landed on his chest. Touching him. Tentatively sliding along his flesh. By the gods, he was going to come just from her fingers on his skin.
Then the bells sounded.
The warning echoed through the night air, the sound more than a little jarring with their open windows.
Kailia jerked back, eyes wide as she scrambled to the window. He followed, trying to think through the lust and sudden burst of adrenaline. But as soon as he saw what was drifting along the streets, any thoughts of kissing and touching and where it could lead were gone.
“We need—” Kailia started, but he’d already grabbed her elbow, tugging her from the room. Gods, he wished they could Travel, but they were too close in proximity to them. Just like they couldn’t Travel away from them in battles, they couldn’t Travel in too close either.
They ran, racing down the stairs and halls as fast as they could. At some point, Razik appeared, running alongside them. They burst through the doors of Everfall Manor, continuing down the paths and streets until they found the phantoms.
Kailia had summoned her bow, arrows already nocked, and he once again stood by, helpless. He’d lost count of how many times this had happened now. How many times he’d been useless while she’d defended him and their towns and their people.
“They have fucking arrows now?” Razik growled, more in annoyance than anything.
Cethin was inclined to agree. Every time they met these things in battle, the creatures seemed to have gained a new skill. The phantoms drifted along with bows of their own. They weren’t as fast as Kailia, but she still couldn’t take them all down at once.
“You need to get out of here,” Razik snarled, dragon fire flaring as he caught an arrow and incinerated it while Kailia took out the phantom who’d shot it.
The sound of footsteps had him turning to find Corveth and several guards running down the street.
The phantoms saw them too. Or sensed them?
Considering he wasn’t sure if they could actually see with their pupil-less eyes.
A few of them diverted their attention to the newcomers, but the majority stayed fixated on Cethin.
“Shit,” Razik muttered, starting to turn.
A wave of darkness rose between the innocents and the phantoms. Cethin knew it wouldn’t do much, knew it couldn’t stop the phantoms, but if they couldn’t see them, maybe it’d buy them some time.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Every attack, every arrow, every onslaught was directed at them.
At him.
Hisses of frustration and curses of “blood of death” filled the air as Razik and Kailia worked to combat each and every one.
The most Cethin could do was catch an arrow as Kailia spun out of the way, killing the phantom.
The three of them watched as it crackled, turning to ash while light flared from the cracks before it dissolved into nothing.
Until silence was all that remained while they watched errant ashes from Razik’s kills drift slowly to the ground.
Kailia dropped to a crouch, her breathing fast and heavy, and the action had Cethin dropping to his knees beside her and Razik lowering to a crouch too.
Carefully, Cethin reached out, tipping her chin up.
His eyes went wide as he found tears glimmering in amber depths, the smoke in them swirling slow and sluggish.
“Are you hurt?” Cethin demanded, gaze darting over her, looking for blood, cuts, bruises.
She shook her head, but instead of answering him, her eyes slid to Razik. “I can’t do this much longer,” she whispered, the words bordering on an anguished sob.
“What is she talking about?” Cethin demanded, anger slithering along his spine at Razik knowing something about her he didn’t.
“Not here,” Razik retorted grimly, gaze flickering to him then back to Kailia. “Let’s get inside.”
She nodded, and Cethin reached for her arm as she stood. She still held her bow, and he still held the arrow he’d caught, the gold arrowhead glinting in the faint moonlight. Razik took her other arm, and Cethin Traveled them all back to their room.
Setting the arrow on a side table, he grabbed a blanket, returning to wrap it around Kailia’s shoulders. She was still in her nightdress, her bow disappearing among a swirl of ashes, and he remained shirtless in loose pants.
“What is this about?” Cethin demanded as she lowered to a chair, pulling her knees to her chest.
But before anyone could answer him, there was a knock on the door and Lord Astor was calling, “Your Majesties? Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
Cethin jerked his chin at Razik to go handle the lord, and while he did that, Cethin crouched before Kailia. His hands on either side of her, he looked up into her face.
“Tell me what’s going on, Kailia. Tell me how I can help?” he urged softly, slowly reaching to brush hair off her brow.
“Has it ever occurred to you that you might be the one putting these people in danger? These creatures attack wherever you are,” she said, her voice cracking a fraction.
That hadn’t been what he’d expected her to say, and he swallowed thickly, because of course that had occurred to him. It was why he spent most nights in his study. It was why he risked using blood magic. It was why he was doing everything he could to figure this out.
“Yes,” he answered her, the word raw and vulnerable.
She nodded, the tears that glimmered minutes ago now gone, but an unmistakable agony still shimmered in her eyes.
“If it’s true, what will you do to stop the attacks? What would you give up?” she pushed.
“Anything,” he answered immediately.
“Me?”
His breath caught, lungs seizing at the very idea.
“Tell me what’s going on, Kailia,” he urged again, not willing to answer her question.
But she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, going quiet.
That was fine.
He’d figure it out his own way, like he had with everything else, and in the meantime, he’d prove to her she was more to him than the arrows and what she had to offer.
What would he give up?
Everything.
But never her.