Page 30 of The Bones of the Cursed

“I’m awake,” I whisper back instead of asking why I’m in his tent in the first place.

He doesn’t move, but I hear him release a breath.

“How long have I been out?”

He takes a minute, probably trying to decipher what time it is. “A little over twelve hours. I would say we are about an hour away from sunrise.”

I inhale slowly. I don’t want to think about what the Banshee warned me of. Instead I decide to have a normal conversation with Kailu, without the constant bickering.

“What were you dreaming about?”

He’s quiet for so long I think he won’t answer, but at last he whispers, “My family. Mostly my father.”

I pillow my head on my arm. “Will you tell me about them?”

He mimics my position. “My mother is a seamstress in our village, a family business passed down generations. She makes most of the clothes the nobles wear at court. When my sister was born, she started making children’s clothing. My father is a soldier through and through.” He shrugs one shoulder. “He always expects the best from his children and raised us the way his father raised him, with an iron fist. I’m not actually sure how my mother ever married him. They are polar opposites in every way. He’s the reason I haven’t seen her in decades, unless she visits me here.”

A parent like his father, one who isn’t proud of you no matterwhat you do, is a familiar pain. “And what about your sister?”

His face shutters, and I regret asking even as he says, “I’m not sure. She went missing about five years ago. We haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

I squeeze his hand, hoping to give him some sense of comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It was hard. On everyone. Even Hendrix. He’s been in love with her since we met.”

He stares at our joined hands for a minute, and I’m half-expecting him to pull away. Instead, he interlocks our fingers. I smile despite myself.

“I thought you were dead.” He raises his eyes to meet mine. “When she ran her finger across your cheek, I was positive she gave you the touch of death, so when you passed out…”

I pull my hand away to touch the healing cut on my face. He traces it, too, his soft touch sending sparks throughout my body and down into my core. He runs the pad of his thumb over my lips and they tingle under his touch.

“You were staring at me, like you were begging me to save you and I couldn’t. I couldn’t get my damned feet under me.”

“I wasn’t staring at you to save me,” I whisper into the quiet space. “I was staring at you to ensure you were the last thing I saw at the end. To give me happier thoughts.”

His hand drops from my face and he snorts out a laugh. I’m not sure how or when we moved closer together, but we are so close that, were I to lean forward, I could brush my nose against his.

“What, like your constant nagging and arguing with me?”

I smile at him, a real smile. “As much as I do love that, lollipop, no. I do have another idea of what you might shift into, though.”

His smile grows at the use of my obnoxious nickname forhim. I think this might be the first time I’ve seen him truly smile, not flash those cocky smirks. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and rests his hand on the back of my neck, bringing his forehead against mine. “Do tell.”

“Definitely a mouse. A cute, fluffy little one.”

A laugh rumbles in his chest. “What were you thinking about?” I can feel his whisper on my lips, and I suck in a breath.

“What do you mean?”

He shifts, moving closer. “You said you were looking at me for happier thoughts. Like what?”

In this dark, quiet space, I feel free. Free to tell him the truth and not worry about embarrassment or rejection. I was never good with people, always awkward, but in this moment I decide to take a chance. I am sick of living life only halfway.

My heart thuds so hard, I’m certain he can hear it. “I was thinking that I really wished I had had the chance to kiss you.”

He pulls away slightly, and a part of me sags in disappointment. Another part braces for the rejection that is sure to follow. When he doesn’t fully release me, I look up at him. He stares at me for a second longer before yanking me towards him and claiming my lips.

My every thought vanishes as the world goes still. His lips are just as soft as I imagined. He’s tentative at first, but that isn’t what I want. I wrap my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his short blond hair. He growls into my mouth and I open for him. His tongue tangles with mine. All I can hear is our breathing, and all I can feel are his lips on mine.

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