Page 120 of Jeweler to the Blessed
He groaned. This one didn’t sound like the same kind of pain. “I’m fine.”
“Liar,” I said, sitting back on my heels, assessing what, if anything, had happened. Was the wound smaller? I couldn’t tell. His breathing was still labored. I leaned over him again. My hand returned to his cheek. I let it slide down his neck, extending the contact.
“Ember—”
I was sure he was about to tell me to stop again, but he choked on what must have been blood pooling in his air passage. My hand rested above his heart.
“That’s enough, Hart.” I crawled closer.
My legs found their way to either side of his. I hovered over his lap in a move that reminded me too much of Forest’s Edge. Tonight, his life hung in the balance. His breath hitched with every shift of my body. It’d be more satisfying if each breath he attempted weren’t interrupted by his choked-off cough as air fought to reach his lungs.
I tilted my head, focusing solely on his face. He was dirty and bloodied from the fight, but it only made him more appealing. He’d used no magic himself and took down the power of a Blessed—even if Soren wielded stolen adamas.
And he’d done it for me.
The shadow of stubble accented the sharp lines of his jaw. I ran my hand along it again. He really was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
Our eyes locked as my left hand reached for his right and pulled it toward me. Maybe it was better if he touched me too. I didn’t know what else to try.
“Chaos,” he whispered.
I placed his large, calloused hand on the soft skin of my neck. It was such an odd sensation. I didn’t have time to consider it. Rationally, I knew Hart couldn’t take from me. I hoped his touch would help strengthen our connection, so that I could heal him.
But I didn’t know how to use my magic. The times I’d done so had been without thought.
Now, I very much wanted to use it.
His hand lay where I placed it, at the junction of my neck and shoulders. Heat flooded through me again where it rested.
This was so far past inappropriate, but I didn’t need toreimagine any of my lustful thoughts. This connection, his touch, was bringing new ones forward.
I leaned into it.
Fear shot down my spine. If there were an adamas gem between us, it would have flared purple. My eyes flicked down again to the bleeding wounds just below my eyesight. Worry mixed with the inferno created by his hand on my skin. I pushed down my fear. That wouldn’t help Hart. I focused on his hand, on his touch, letting the fire of our connection burn through me. I sank lower over his lap.
The feeling of his touch consumed me. I held his hand in place, unwilling to give up. But was anything changing? This heat between us was a building inferno, but I didn’t know if it was healing him. My hand slid to his chest. I wasn’t sure what led me, but I was sure I needed my hand on the wound.
My hair fell forward, creating a golden curtain around us. For a moment, I could imagine that it was just me and Hart. And maybe we would close the distance because we wanted to, not because his life depended on it.
His fingers twitched, featherlight against me. “You don’t have to.”
I wanted to.
Everything I knew about being Chaos’s Champion said she had a choice. I hadn’t made a decision. Hart had told me I had magic, but if I were honest, I wasn’t sure I’d accepted it.
His hand sliding across my skin drew me to the present. It turned the heating fire not to light but to the absence of it—if my body were adamas, the deepest black overtook my senses.
It was darkness, the unknown, and it felt like anything could happen there. Any choice could be made, and all outcomes had potential.
I made my choice—picked my outcome.
I chose this. Chose to be Chaos’s Champion.
I chose him, and with that decision, something incandescent shot through me, reigniting all the colors of magic I was familiar with.
I sucked in a breath, my head falling back, as my hand pressed against his wound. It knit together beneath my touch. His grip on my waist was exquisite as he held me close, and I knew I would never be the same. Moving on instinct, I rolled forward into it.
A hiss that sounded nothing like the pain he’d been in loosed from his throat. Another hint of hesitation fell away as his fingers caressed the length of my neck and danced along my collarbone.
