Page 89 of Unravelled
“Well, this is... unexpected.” His lips curled into a thin, amused smile. “How very interesting.” His eyes moved over them, a predator assessing prey, curiosity gleaming beneath his controlled exterior.
Mira’s swallowed, a small sound swallowed by the heavy air. Asric took a step forward, but Ren reacted instantly. His body shifted, angling away, pulling her deeper into his embrace. His fingers dug into her waist, a warning and a promise. Alow growl rumbled through Ren’s chest, vibrating against her spine. The sound was raw, unpolished, more beast than man.
“Don’t come near her.” The word slipped from him, a harsh rasp, his voice frayed at the edges.
Asric’s smile widened, a dark bloom of victory. “The Emberbane has many uses, but I must admit, its influence over desire is my favorite. It’s amazing, isn’t it? How it can strip away the façade of control, leaving nothing but truth.”
His gaze over to Mira, and his expression shifted, curiosity knitting with suspicion. “And yet, you… You seem far more lucid than I expected." Asric's eyes narrowed. "How is it, Mira, that you remain clear while everyone around you drowns?”
A tremor of fear coiled deep in her stomach, but she refused to let it show. “Is that what you think?” she said, her voice a careful, velvety drawl. “Perhaps I’m simply better at hiding what I truly want.” Asric’s brows lifted, amusement slipping over his suspicion.
“Perhaps,” Asric murmured, his voice a silken thread weaving through the dimly lit room.
Asric's hand moved with a practiced grace, slipping into the folds of his cloak. When it emerged, he held a small leather pouch, worn and unassuming except for the faint, pulsing glow that seeped through its seams. With a flick of his wrist, he loosened the drawstring. The bag opened, and the powder within shimmered, a deep, iridescent hue. The air around it rippled, a distortion that made the room tilt at the edges.
Mira’s vision swam, the walls stretching and bending as if caught in a dream. He stepped closer, each movement a slow, deliberate promise. Ren took a step back, tension coiling through his frame. Asric held his ground.
“Tell me, Mira,” he said, his voice a low hum that resonated through her bones. “What is it you truly desire?”
A sly smile curved his lips as he brought the pouch to his lips and blew. The Emberbane dust billowed out, a cloud of ethereal smoke that engulfed her face in an instant. Cool and soft, it coated her skin, slipping into every breath. Her knees buckled.
Her lips parted, but the answer tangled in her throat. Desire. The word pulsed through her, an insistent drumbeat that blurred the line between truth and illusion. She felt weightless, untethered, as if the floor had vanished beneath her feet. She gasped, the world spinning, and Ren’s hold became all she could think about.
His arms were iron bands around her waist, his chest a solid wall against her back. His breath was hot against her neck, each exhale a gust of fevered air. The world beyond him blurred, reduced to nothing but a backdrop to his presence.
Her own thoughts twisted, slippery and malleable. She couldn’t grasp them, couldn’t hold on to anything but the sensation of Ren’s hands, the press of his body, the weight of his need.
His voice whispered through the haze, a low hum against her ear. “Stay with me,” he murmured, the words looping, a gentle snare. “Mine. Always mine.” Mira groaned, the sound torn from her before she blinked into a memory.
???
Warmth. The press of strong hands on her thighs. A sharp inhale, a quiet groan. Candlelight flickering, throwing gold across bare skin. Shadows stretch long, shifting as bodies move. Her hands pressing down, steadying herself on a firm chest, feeling muscles shift beneath her palms. A slow roll of her hips. A sharp, broken sound from the man beneath her. His fingers twitched where they rested against her skin, as if waiting, straining, holding back.
"Be patient." The words left her lips, soft, teasing, meant to provoke.
A pause. A sharp inhale. His eyes, bright green, wild, burning, snapped back to hers, dark and demanding. Then, a voice, low, wrecked, frayed at the edges.
"Patience is for men who don’t know what they want."
A haze of heat. He surged up, kissed her, hands to her hips, flipping her beneath him in one swift, fluid motion. A gasp. A shudder. The weight of him above her. His breath hot at her throat, his lips just a whisper away. A sharp, helpless cry tore from her lips, swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her, as he pressed deeper, filling every part of her.
She felt him, the tension in his body, the way his breath turned ragged, the way his rhythm faltered, shaking, frantic. A low, wrecked groan tore from his throat, his body tensing, shuddering, as he spilled into her, filling her, claiming her.
???
Ren's hold tightened, his fingers digging into her waist, anchoring her to him as reality splintered.
“Come back to me..” his voice was a whisper edged with desperation. His hands slid upwards, one arm turning her to face him, the other curling into her hair,fingers tangling in the strands. Her vision filled with him, dark eyes, shadows and fire, every sharp line of his face. He paused for a heartbeat, searching her eyes.
His lips found hers in a heartbeat, a clash of heat and need. The kiss was fierce, a claiming. His mouth moved against hers, a rhythm that was all-consuming, drawing the breath from her lungs. The growl that rumbled through him sent a shiver down her spine, a sound that vibrated against her lips, slipped into her, and curled tight around her heart.
Her hands found his chest, nails scraping against the fabric, a desperate attempt to find balance when the floor felt as though it had disappeared beneath her. His heartbeat pounded under her palms, a wild tempo that matched her own. Ren’s mouth moved, tracing the curve of her jaw, the line of her throat, before returning to her lips. His breaths were harsh, mingling with hers, a dance of warmth and urgency. He kissed her like he couldn’t bear to stop, like every brush of their lips was a promise neither of them dared to voice.
The room spun around them, shadows and smoke stretching and twisting, but she couldn’t focus on anything but him. His hands in her hair, his body pressed against hers. The hunger in his eyes matched the ache in her chest. His grip tightened, and she felt the tremor in his hands, the fine edge of control slipping away.
“Ren...” she whispered. The word barely more than a breath and the moment it left her lips, something in him snapped.
With a swift, practiced motion, he snatched her up and slung her over his shoulder. The world flipped, her view shifting to the ground. She gasped, but it was lost in the noise of the hall. His hand pressed against the back of her thigh, holding her steady as he turned, his stride long and purposeful. Her heart thundered, a wild staccato that echoed through her.
