Heisforbidden, Annora.
I slam my hand against his chest, shoving with all my strength. He breaks free, his breathing ragged.
“You’re Jasce,” I say, as if that explains everything.
His brow lifts. “And you’re—”
I press my fingers to his lips, stopping his words. Even though I know it’s wrong, I don’t want to hear another woman’s name on his lips right now.
Jasce pulls my hand away. “You’re a contradiction.”
“A contradiction?” My hand trembles as I shove my hair behind my ears.
“You kiss me back with fervor and then push me away. What I cannot figure out is why.”
I slip my hands into my sleeves, needing a moment to think, to breathe, to contemplate why I allowed him to kiss me at all. Maybe it’s simply because I have never kissed a man until now.
My first kiss!
And what a kiss it was.
There is no doubt it was not his first. Has he kissed Lyra? Of course, he has. It’s part of the Hematite binding ceremony. I can’t help but wonder how intimate they may have been. It should not matter. He is not mine. For a moment, I allow myself to wonder if he could be.
Would he kiss me? The real me?
No one would kiss you.
I wince at the ferocity of my own thoughts, the cruelty.
“I don’t…” I press my lips together again, not even sure what I could possibly say.
Thankfully, Zerah steps into the stables, drawing Jasce’s attention.
She grins, as if it’s perfectly normal to find us standing in the shadows. I take a step back as Jasce frowns.
“Can I steal Lyra from you?” Zerah asks.
He nods and heads toward the door. “I am going to go find a lake.”
“It’s too chilly out to swim,” she says.
“I’m counting on it,” he says as he disappears through the door.
She jerks her attention to me standing there, my skin still heated. “What did you do to him?”
I clutch my fingers together. “Nothing.”
A knowing smile pulls at her mouth as she grabs my hand and yanks me out of the stables. “Jasce only gets that look on his face after he has spoken to you. Well, the new you.”
“The new me?”
She sends me another look. “You’re different since you returned from Sharhavva.”
Fantastic, indeed.
I’m as transparent as a pane of glass.
“I hit my head,” I say, offering the same pathetic lie Lyra’s mother told me to say.
