Page 51 of Of Blooming Embers
THE MOONBUD REVELRY
GAVREL
Icouldn’t breathe. She’d stolen the very breath from my lungs. On the bridge near our dwelling, I’d been staring off into the clutter of bristled ropes and water-worn timber. I shifted in Marek’s borrowed overcoat, the sleeves snug around my biceps.
Initially, I’d mistaken a glimmer at the corner of my vision for the sun’s reflection. I glanced in its direction, and then did a double-take.
Not the sun. Not everyone else’s, at least.
That’s when my breath hitched, my fingers clamping onto the railing as my world tilted.
It was my Little Star—radiant and otherworldly—looking like a celestial being that had fallen from the sky.
As she approached, one of her delicate brows arched as her icy-blue eyes glittered. “Tongue get cut out during your sparring session?” The corners of her eyes crinkled.
Her cheeks glowed; her skin scrubbed clean and painted in the soft neons of the retreating light. Like wild auburn flames, her curls tumbled over her shoulders and down her back.
Mouth parting, I followed the line of her shoulders to the thin, woven straps that clung to them.
Down to the deep V of semi-exposed skin between her breasts, the sheer strips of ebony chiffon hugging the edges of the deep neckline were both demure and incredibly enticing.
It would be so easy to tear that off her.
“What was that?” she asked as the bridge creaked under her dark ankle boots.
Did I say that out loud?
Yes, you imbecile,I admonished myself.
I grunted in response, and her mouth curved. Gulping and setting my jaw tightly, my eyes glided over the rest of her.
Shimmering, sheer, black fabric skimmed over her curves, the hem kissing the tops of her supple thighs. Intwined throughout, kaleidoscopic threads glittered like the setting sun upon rippling water. With every movement, waves of moody, prismatic hues flowed over her body.
Though the material was sheer, the tightly packed pattern of the threads covered her, the hint of what lay underneath testing my restraint.
My hand itched to slip under the hundreds of delicate, dripping tassels decorating the hem. I drifted closer—pulled into her orbit—as she stood in front of me.
Enthralled, I reached for her hand and brought it to my lips. I kissed her knuckles and then interlaced my fingers between hers. She let me.
When a shy smile flitted over her mouth, an inhale forced its way down my throat. It was a relief to recall how breathing worked once more.
“You’re stunning.” My heart slammed into my ribs. I leaned closer to her. The sweet smell of her hair flooded my senses.“Like a wish come true, Asteria.”
Her chin dipped, and I knew her blush was hiding under the sunbeams painting her skin. “Thank you.” She reached up and pinched the fabric of one of the sleeves. “You’re not so bad yourself. Marek’sclothes look good on you.”
At the male’s name from her lips, a muted snarl reverberated in my chest, pushing me to my full height. She smirked and tugged me along as she moved across the bridge.
The city was alive. Vibrant. People were laughing and chatting. Giggling children rushed past us, their feet slapping as they ran. The walkway jiggled from the force of their merriment, and Seryn nestled closer, running her hand up my forearm.
I wanted her hands on me for the rest of our lives.
She tucked her arm into the crook of my elbow. My eyes closed for a moment as I savored the heat of her.
“Sweet Surrelia … It’s … it’s so …” A reverent sigh carried away the rest of her thought as she pulled away.
“Enchanting,” I mumbled, staring at nothing but her. But she didn’t hear me as she greeted Breena, a wide smile across her friend’s mouth as they embraced. Rhaegar nodded at me from behind them and then focused on gathering a few goblets from a makeshift pub.
All the shops encircling the central gathering’s vast platform were closed for the night in honor of the Moonbud Revelry. Cheerful music from local musicians, playing various stringed instruments and lively voices, rang louder as I approached.
