Page 82 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

He caught her hand gently, pausing to look into her eyes. “I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t ask,” he said quietly.

“Ask what?” Zylah stilled at the question.

He rested his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing. “Stay. Just for a little while longer.”

Here is where you belong.A tear rolled down Zylah’s cheek, and Raif kissed it away. She couldn’t speak, or she knew more tears would come, so she nodded. Raif eased into her then, his lips crashing against hers as he moved slowly at first, pressing her back against the rock.

Then his movements matched his kisses, and Zylah moved with him, focusing on nothing but the feeling of him, his hands around her, his lips against hers.

Just a little while longer.

Chapter Thirty-One

Zylah left the party alone. Raif had offered to walk her back, but she knew he had more people to meet with, and all she wanted was her bed, so she’d told him to stay. She’d evanesced to the tavern out of habit, peeled out of her party clothes and slid into bed, exhausted. Raif’s scent clung to the sheets, and with a blush, she realised Holt would have been able to detect it too.

She awoke once in the night to Holt’s scent in the air, her bed dipping as he sat beside her. It was his scent, mixed with venti lilies, and she’d thought of the dancers he’d been watching earlier. She’d listened to his quiet breathing in the dark—was that avenberry liquor she could smell?

It isn’t right, you know.Rose’s accusation had played on repeat in her thoughts.

Holt didn’t move. She thought he might have had his head in his hands, but she’d kept her head to the pillow.

She’d been too tired to do anything but focus on Holt’s steady breaths until sleep claimed her.

Zylah woke before Holt did. She took a moment to study his face, head resting on his arm as he lay on his back on the lounger. How did he sleep like that without waking up with a numb arm? She stifled a laugh. His messy hair was even messier with sleep, his jaw peppered with stubble. His lips were slightly parted, and his eyes fluttered as if he were dreaming. He hadn’t even removed his jacket.

She opened the window for Kopi, warm air hitting her at once and padded to the bathroom to get ready for work. She’d need to look for a new place to stay. She could stay with Raif, but she preferred the idea of having her own place—even if just to give them space away from Rose. She dressed and towel-dried her hair, working her way through her thoughts.

When she came out of the bathroom, Holt was up, his jacket on the back of a chair, his hair a little smoother than it had been moments before. He held a mug of tea in his hand as he looked up at her, and not for the first time, she wished she could read his expression.

Zylah cleared her throat. “How was your evening?”

“Fine.”

“Good.” She sat at the dresser and brushed out her hair, glancing back at him in the mirror. Something was off, but she didn’t know what.

“May I?” Holt was behind her, waving a hand at her hair.

“You know how to do it?”

Holt nodded once. Perhaps he was worried about Arnir’s arrival; she knew she was. Zylah’s brow pinched. “Go ahead.”

He separated her hair and braided it slowly with sure, steady movements, his fingers incredibly nimble for someone so big. Kara used to braid her hair. But this… this felt different. She could feel the heat from him, the avenberry liquor and venti lilies from the night before long faded, leaving only his familiar scent. He was careful not to brush his fingers against her neck as he gathered more hair, but each movement was considered… gentle.

“Who taught you to do this?” Zylah asked, watching him in the mirror.

Holt didn’t look up from his work, his expression neutral as he said, “I used to braid my sister’s hair.”

Zylah tried not to flinch. She knew loss, but not that kind. Leaving her family and Kara behind was something entirely different, and she couldn’t imagine how it would feel if one of them were… gone. She wanted to put a hand over his, to offer some kind of comfort, but instead, she twisted her fingers over themselves in her lap.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as he reached over her shoulder for a strip of leather, and again Zylah noticed how careful he was not to touch her. She thought back to that day in the cabin.I won’t touch you.

It was safe here, in their little room. But Arnir would be gone soon, and she could defend herself now. She didn’t need Holt’s protection anymore, and she shoved down the flicker of guilt that surfaced as she admitted that to herself.

“I saw a beautiful little building near the botanical gardens yesterday with a room for rent. I was thinking it would be nice to have my own place. Make it a home.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but she needed a way to broach the topic with him. She was staying, but that would still mean some changes were needed. Like where she lived.

Holt was quiet as he fastened her braid and rested it gently against her back. In the mirror, she could see his brow furrow and his intake of breath.

Pedlars called out their wares to passers-by in the street below, and a man laughed enthusiastically at something.

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