Page 94 of Poison Sun

“It’s real,” I insist, and from the way he’s looking at me—like he wants to pin me down and claim me again on the spot—I know he’s a heartbeat away from giving in.

The air pulses between us, watching, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

His grip around my wrist tightens, to the point where it starts to hurt.

“It’s a spell. It doesn’t change what you did,” he says, and he releases his hold on me, pushing me down and forcing himself to stand.

Shock shoots through me when I hit the ground, even though I wasn’t far away from it to start.

Staring up at him from here, his rejection claws at my heart, tears welling in my eyes.

“Fire travel,” he says, his command as much of a plea as it is an order. “To the bottom of the garden. Now.”

“Blaze,” I say, his name getting stuck in my throat. “I can’t just leave you here.”

“I can get down alone,” he says. “It’s not far. And when I see you at the bottom, all I’ll be able to focus on is getting there, back to you.”

All goes silent as he waits for my reaction. And the way he’s looking at me—as if I’m the most precious thing in his world—makes me want to fight what he’s saying and stay here with him forever.

Once we’re out of this rose garden, will he ever look at me this way again? Or will he return to hating me for the secrets I kept?

Probably the latter.

And then, the wind picks up again.

Take him out now, it says. He’s weak and vulnerable because of the rose garden. It’s the perfect time to strike—before he goes back to being so defensive around you. To hating you.

The whispers caress my skin, sinking into my soul and urging me to believe its words.

The dagger in my weapons belt is so close.

I could kiss him again. Then I could catch him by surprise by stabbing him before he realizes what’s happening.

Yes, the wind urges. Do it.

No, I think. Stop.

And then I call on my fire, let it erupt around me, and disappear into the flames.

Morgan

I reappear at the bottom of the garden, and the wind’s whispers die down, leaving behind a deafening silence.

My heart races. The quiet is a relief, but I need to figure out a way to stop hearing these… voices. Each time, it gets more intense, more convincing.

One moment of weakness, and I might do something I’ll regret forever. Something I can never take back.

Blaze still stands halfway up the garden, gazing down at me with what looks like pride. And as I stare up at him, the moonlight reflecting off his strong features, I’m reminded about how beautiful he is. Otherworldly, as if he comes from this fantasy realm instead of the human one.

He hurries down the path without hesitation.

When he reaches the bottom, the hardness from earlier returns to his eyes.

My heart drops.

I expected this. But I still hoped that somehow, what happened between us in the garden would change something. That he’d be a step closer to forgiving me. That maybe—just maybe—he’d start to understand why I did what I did.

He says nothing.

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