Page 68 of Between Smoke and Shadow
When I eventually pull back, we’re both breathing hard, and my cock feels ready to explode. Rather than letting Rune touch me, I keep her hands away. I’m determined not to fuck this up. I can’t rush this—her.
“You could never disappoint me,” I tell her. “This was already the greatest moment of my life.”
Rune smiles, and it’s one of the few real, genuine ones she’s given me. It lights her whole face, and I’m scrambling, trying to figure out how to make it stay like this forever.
“We don’t need to rush, all right?” I tell her. “We can do that another night.”
“Oh,” she says, her smile fading. “You don’t…you don’t want me to touch you?”
I can’t stop myself from laughing. Rune frowns now, and she looks away from me. I release her hands and lean to follow her gaze.
“Of course I want you to touch me,” I say. “I want to do just about every imaginable thing with you.”
She swallows, but her eyes light with the promise.
“We just don’t need to do everything tonight,” I say. “I don’t want to push you. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s a long journey back to the Tower. You should rest.”
Her face sombers at that, and I hate myself for ruining the mood. I’m tempted to slip my hand back into her coverall to see that glazed look in her eyes again. But I don’t. She reallyshouldrest, and I can take care of my own needs later.
“Sorace…” she starts, trailing off with his name. She swallows, then sits up beside me. Even as she tries to sound unaffected, I can hear the fear lurking beneath her words. It makes me wish I could kill him all over again. “Do you think he’ll remember it wasmehe killed? It might cause problems if we return and he realizes I’m still alive.”
My magic pulses, and I have to clench my fists to keep it from sparking through my fingers.
“Sorace won’t be a problem,” I say. I haven’t told anyone, not even Joran, what I’ve done to my cousin. If anyone deserves to hear the truth though, it’s Rune. “He’s dead.”
“What?” she asks. Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes widen. “How?”
“I killed him,” I say. The words sound funny in my ears. I never expected to kill anyone in my lifetime. That was always Malek’s way, the Architect’s and Mother’s, never mine. And yet, I haven’t felt a morsel of regret murdering my cousin.
“Oh,” Rune says. A pause of silence hangs between us. “On purpose?”
“Yes.”
Something flashes through those blue eyes. Relief, I realize. She’s looking at me with a mixture of relief and satisfaction and appreciation. I’m melting under her gaze, tempted to admit I’d kill anyone she wanted me to.
“Good,” she says finally.
I stroke the side of her jaw. For a moment, I consider asking her why she was out in the City at all, and why Alven was with her. I don’t though, if only because I can’t bring myself to face the answer. Instead, I help her get dressed, and when she offers me a timid smile, I know I’m completely ruined.
A few stolen touches, and I’m ready to burn this kingdom at her feet.
On the longdrive back to the Tower, Rune barely says a word. The majority of our group traveled home while she was still unconscious, leaving only Joran and one carriage behind.Now, the three of us return together. Rune doesn’t speak unless we’re alone, and that doesn’t happen often. It is only when Joran stops the carriage, stepping out to go to the bathroom, that she acknowledges me.
“We’re getting close,” she says, but it comes out as a question. The weather is dismal today, gray skies and heavy rain, making it impossible to see our location. I’ve made this drive enough times to know it’s almost over. Less than an hour, and we’ll be stripped of whatever privacy we’ve found.
Part of me wants to change the destination to take us somewhere no one will ever find us. Unfortunately, I doubt there’s such a place in all of Savoa. With enveloping mountains, we couldn't run for long.
“Yes,” I say after a tense pause. I glance at her mouth. A few hours ago, her lips were red from my desperate attempts to claim them. Now, she’s barely looking at me, her mouth set in a thin line.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say. It comes out like a plea.
She considers my words for a long moment before scrunching her eyes, scrutinizing me.
“You lost your first battle,” she says. The unexpected topic makes my stomach drop. If she notices, she doesn’t show it. She only continues. “You shouldn’t have. You’re the better fighter.”
The compliment swirls through my chest, but it’s overshadowed by a heavy pressure. Because she’s wrong—I’m not the better fighter. No matter how sweet she is for attempting to mollify me, I know the truth.
“I have more magic,” I say carefully. “But there’s something unnatural about Malek. Something sinister. He’s going to best me every time, Rune.”
