Page 90 of Unravelled
She could feel the strength in him, every muscle coiled and ready, the tension beneath his skin palpable. The heavy double doors crashed open, a rush of cool air slamming into her as he charged into the palace gardens. The world spun with every step, her view an erratic mix of rain-soaked stone paths and the blurred canopy of storm clouds above.
His shoulder dug into her stomach, solid and unyielding, as he carried her. Rain soaked through her hair, plastering it to her face, and every inhale brought the sharp, earthy scent of wet leaves and fresh rain. She felt the cold seep through her, the chill a stark contrast to the heat of his skin against her. Her world had narrowed to the sway of his steps, the drum of the rain, and the press of his hand against her leg.
They reached the edge of the garden, slipping through a narrow archway shrouded in ivy. The world shifted, the sharp sting of rain giving way to the dim warmth ofthe palace interior. He moved through an attendants corridor, the carpet muffling his footsteps. Candlelight licked the stone walls, as the corridors curved around them. Shadows danced along the stone walls, and with every step, the intensity between them simmered, a heat that wrapped around them both. Ren’s breaths, harsh and fast, began to slow, each exhale a little steadier than the last.
His grip on her thigh loosened, just slightly, his fingers flexing against her skin as if he was trying to ground himself. His pace eased into something more measured, his boots striking the stone with quiet deliberation.
“Mira?” he murmured her name.
She could hear the change in his voice, the raw edge smoothing, the heat cooling into something softer, questioning. Ren placed her on the ground and his steps faltered. His shoulders tightened, a ripple of tension that ran through him.
The hallway was quiet, the distant sound of voices reduced to a muffled hum. His eyes found hers, wide and dark, the lingering effects of the Emberbane curling around her senses.The room still spun, the world softened at the edges, and every nerve felt as if it had been set alight.
His concern was written across his face, but it barely registered. The need inside her was burning. Hot, relentless, impossible to silence.
“You didn’t hurt me, Ren.” she breathed, but the word came out husky.
“I wasn’t, I didn’t mean...” His hands raked through his hair, the movement frantic. “The Emberbane... it, ” His breath came out in a shudder.
Mira moved. Her hands pressed against his chest, firm and insistent, and he staggered back, his shoulders hitting the cold stonewall. His breath rushed out in a sharp exhale, his eyes widening as she stepped into him, closing the space between them.
Her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt. The Emberbane twisted through her, a thread of heat and need that tightened with every heartbeat. Her body pressed against his, his thigh slipping between her legs, the friction sparking something dangerous and undeniable.
“Mira...” his voice was hoarse, the sound scraping against the quiet of the corridor. His hands hovered at her waist, not pulling her closer, not pushing her away. “I need to think, ”
“I don't want you to think...” she admitted, her forehead resting against his throat. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, every inhale pulling him deeper into her senses, the smoke and spice of him, the warmth of his skin. A shudder ran through him, his fingers finally curling into her waist, an anchor as much for him as for her.
“It’s the Emberbane,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.
“Then help me...” Her hips moved, a slow, intentional roll, and his breath shivered running through him. Mira felt him flexing under her. His grip tightened, and his head fell back against the wall with a quiet thud.
“Mira,” he groaned, the sound rich with need and struggle.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, and the darkness in them had softened, the shadows gentled. He looked fragile and unguarded. His hands moved, a quiet invitation, and he pulled her closer, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling.
His voice was a murmur, a brush of warmth against her skin. “I can't say no to you...”
He slid his hand into hers, their fingers interlocking. The world around them seemed to hold its breath as he pulled her along, their steps fast and echoing.
25
They reached Mira’s quarters, the corridor hushed save for the hurried rhythm of their footsteps echoing off the stone. Candlelight flickered wildly along the high walls, shadows leaping with every breath. Ren’s hand pressed at the small of her back, his touch firm, grounding her, but beneath it pulsed something deeper, something hot, reckless.
Mira didn’t hesitate. Her fingers closed around the handle, shoving the door open with a sharp click, and they stumbled inside. The room was warm, thick with the scent of tahla and sandalwood. The steam from the untouched bath still hung in the air. But the heat that licked at her spine wasn’t from the room. The Emberbane curled through her blood like smoke, coaxing, daring, demanding. She didn’t step away. She couldn’t. The fire in her veins begged for more.
“Ren... ” she whispered, his name a fragile plea, breathless and raw.
Mira turned and pulled him down to her. Their mouths collided, in a searing kiss. A kiss that left no space for breath, only hunger. His lips broke from hers just long enough to whisper, voice rough with need.
“I need to hear you,” he murmured, voice rough with restraint. “Say it again.” Her throat tightened, the heat rising fast, flushing her skin as she leaned in, lips close enough to brush his.
“Ren please” she begged, steadier this time, but no less aching.
His eyes shut, his forehead dropping to hers, their breath tangled. He slowly pressed her back against the door, caging her in, his body flush with hers, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with need. But even through the haze, he stilled, just enough to meet her gaze. Pressed against him, she could feel the hard, unmistakable proof of his desire through the thin barrier of her dress.
His voice was rough, low, almost reverent. “Tell me you want this. Not the Emberbane. Not the magic. You.”
Mira’s breath hitched. The fire in her veins burned, the Emberbane a constant thrum beneath her skin, but this... It wasn't the powder or smoke guiding her, it was her choice. She saw the boat of stars, the tangled threads of fate Danlea had shown her.The choice waiting beneath the surface, glowing and golden, pulsing with possibility. And this wasn't a mistake. Not a stolen moment. This was her choice.
