Page 58 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

My shoulders dropped with relief, but still, I could not look at him.

Tharan leaned forward, hooking a finger under my chin,forcing our eyes to meet. “I have been around long enough to know—life sometimes places us in impossible situations.”

I sucked in a stifled breath. A heat grew between us. I wanted him to touch me, but I dared not move closer.

“I’m sure Caiden’s told you all about me.”

I let out a half-hearted laugh. “He told me you were not to be trusted.”

“He was right. You shouldn’t trust me.” Mischief gleamed in his emerald eye.

My breath hitched in my throat. “Why?”

“Because I am the Lord of Nothing. A bastard son who drinks too much wine and pours honey into the hearts of princesses, only to shatter them later.”

“Lucky for you, there is nothing left of my heart to break.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Tharan’s lips. “That makes two of us.”

We clinked our mugs together in acknowledgment of one another.

Tharan and I walked back to the inn in comfortable silence. I didn’t have to be anyone around him. The people who knew me before expected me to act like the old Aelia—the one they knew in Elyria before I married Gideon. That Aelia died a long time ago, and I couldn’t resurrect her.

Lanterns hung from every tree, giving the promenade a warm glow. Tharan walked with purposeful grace, keeping his hands behind his back. The lush I met in the Court of Sorrows replaced by a dignitary.

I did not know Tharan’s story, but if it mirrored my own, the scar on his heart proved worse than on his face.

“How about a smoke before we turn in?” Tharan motioned to the golden railing encircling the roof of the inn.

“Maybe one more,” I said, pulling the cigarettes from my cloak pocket. Excitement bubbled in my chest.

A quiet swept over the city as townsfolk turned in for the night. From where we stood, the lights of the town twinkled like stars on rolling hills laid out as far as the eye could see.

I lit a cigarette. “Have you been here before?”

Tharan tucked an unruly piece of hair behind his ear. “I was born here,” he said, taking out his own leather pouch of cigarettes and tapping the pack on the palm of his hand.

“So, your mother is from here?”

“No,” he chuckled. “My birth was a cursed one. She fled here to escape her father’s wrath.”

“Ah, it was a forbidden romance?” I arched an eyebrow.

Smoke plumed around Tharan. “Like you, I am a half-breed. You know the laws of this land. No elves and sylph may mate. Even if they are in love.”

“I guess I thought the law only applied to commoners,” I said, staring at the town blanketed in snow.

Tharan sighed. “My mother’s father is the elven king, Aerendir. It was a disgrace on the crown.”

I touched his arm tenderly. “What happened to her?”

“She was discovered here and taken back to the elven capital of Elohim and killed. I was sent to my father’s doorstep in a basket of thorns.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “He hadn’t known my mother was pregnant.”

“You never knew your mother?” My heart broke for him. I couldn’t imagine never knowing my mother.

“No.” He lifted his head toward the heavens, silken hair shining in the moonlight. “Sometimes I like to imagine she looks down on me from wherever she is.”

It would be easy to fall in love with Tharan. Few were this candid with a person they’d just met. He made you feel like every word he shared was a secret, known only to the two of you. I yearned to kiss him again, to alleviate whatever pain resided in his soul.

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