Page 125 of Jeweler to the Blessed
My legs turned to jelly, my hips fell to the bed, and he crawled the length of me to catch my lips in another scorching kiss. Our gazes met and held. He searched for something there, though I wasn’t sure what.
“Hart.” My breathing was still ragged.
“Tapping out, Chaos?” He lifted his weight as if seriously readying to leave the bed.
Immediately, I missed it. I reached for him, my fingers wrapping around the silk and steel of him. “Not even a little bit.”
A low sound escaped his throat, and part of me couldn’t believe I’d drawn it from him. I stroked the length of him again, his hips bucking forward to follow the motion. His reaction to me was a heady thing, but I was too impatient to explore it further. I lined him up with my entrance, and as if in tune with my thoughts, his mouth captured mine, and he brought us together.
The heat of our connection transformed again as we joined. I didn’t know what to make of it, but my every limb was alight, alive, and attuned to his touch. His hands roved my skin as if he knew it. With each steady stroke, I careened toward a new cliff. I wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but I wanted us to meet it together.
“Hart.” I just wanted to say his name—wanted the grounding his voice brought—wanted to know he was here, that we were together.
He pressed his forehead to mine as we moved. “I’m with you.”
I didn’t know what he responded to, and I didn’t care. Desire coursed through me as I fell into that absence of light again, just as I had in the forest. With every stroke, every touch, I chose Hart—again and again.
We came together in searing pleasure.
“Ember.” My name on his lips was like a light in the dark—a flare at the crescendo calling me home. I returned, my body descending from molten to languid.
The penetrating green of his gaze held mine, the hint of a challenge in them alongside the raw emotion that lingered there. Before I could speak, he pressed a kiss to my lips. “If you tell me that was a good start, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
My lip tilted into a wicked smile. “That’s not the deterrent you think it is.”
He brought his forehead to mine. “You are Chaos incarnate.”
I found I no longer minded the use of the name. It was still astounding that I inspired so much from this man. I wanted to capture the feelings written across his features and store them away to remember always. Maybe I wanted to do the same with my own feelings swirling within me. Desire, maybe more, joy, at being so desired in return. Fear and anger over what tomorrow would bring.
I let the reassuring warmth of his touch seep into me as our breathing evened. Tomorrow’s problems would come soon enough.
37
Choice—real choice—is its own magic.
— FROM CHAMPIONS OF KAVIOS
Even though my mind was made up, we still had much to do before today’s ceremony. I barely had time to lounge in the satisfaction of last night’s activities. I’d returned to my room late. Most in the castle were still celebrating at the Masquerade, even as the sun rose.
I had no such luxury. Today was the Blessing Ceremony.
Prince Elias had added me to the list of those Selected, which meant I had another ring to make before this afternoon. It was doable, though it would be rushed. It wasn’t like I cared about the state of the gem.
At least it would give me an excuse to ignore the king’s crown commission for anotherday.
Despite all we had to accomplish, all we had to discuss, Hart didn’t say a word as I veered off course from Alaric’s workshop. I wasn’t sure where my feet were taking me until it became clear. We entered Woodside, and I knew what my gut had already decided. My parents’ building loomed ahead.
With everything that happened yesterday—what I’d chosen—the inescapable truth solidified: I needed answers. The modest building felt like a bastion of secrets at that moment.
Someone in my family must have known I was called to be Chaos’s Champion. I couldn’t speak with Alaric about it. My parents were next on the list.
Today, I would submit to King Rodric’s whims to keep Alaric safe. I didn’t yet know how to use my magic to fight. Any hope I had of fleeing Kavios was gone. I clutched hope tight in my chest that I’d eventually find a way to free us both, but I had other concerns too.
Vaddon wanted to kill me. The Cursed King needed something from Chaos to use his magic—Hart and I had yet to return to those conversations.
We hadn’t even been able to free the captive last night. I told myself that just because we failed once didn’t mean we couldn’t try again.
We.
