Page 56 of The Rebel and the Rose
That heat flared again, like her magic was rising to his challenge.
Maker, it begged, like an animal prowling in its cage.
Go away, she hissed back. The last thing she wanted was to scald Ransom’s stupidly perfect face. But her magic thrashed until it became uncomfortably hot, a sun burning in her chest. Fire spewed through her blood. It was reacting to his nearness, dancing to the furious beat of her own heart.
‘I didn’t understand at first, the way the barest touch of your skin shattered my Shade,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But hearing about Prince Andreas. And that acolyte on the Isle of Alisa… the rumours of a Second Coming.’
Sera held her breath without meaning to.
‘I’m thinking… you’re a… saint,’ he said, deathly quiet.
Panic struck.
Lie.
Play it off.
Save your ass.
‘Thatscent.’ He inhaled, breathing her in. ‘Like lemon blossoms…’
She swallowed a whimper, her hands absently curling in thecollar of his shirt. She had meant to shove him off, to put some distance between him and her unruly magic before it struck out, but his nearness was so intoxicating, she couldn’t think clearly.
‘Careful,’ she warned. ‘If what you think is true, you really have no idea what I’m capable of.’
There was a shift in temperature. He drew back from her, flattening himself against the bench.
She opened her eyes.
‘What do you mean by that?’ he said.
The heat inside her vanished, replaced by a sudden wash of cold. It was the way he was looking at her now… with suspicion. And… disgust.
Theo had warned her not to reveal anything more about her magic, and this was exactly why.
‘Nothing. I didn’t mean anything.’
Too late. It was too late to take any of it back.
He stared at her.
She folded her arms. ‘Are you going to tell the king about me? Will I be next on your list?’
He didn’t even blink. ‘That depends, what kind of saint are you, Seraphine?’
‘What kind of question is that?’
One she couldn’t answer.
He said, ‘The only one that matters.’
‘I’m still waiting on my letter of instruction from Saint Oriel,’ she said, reaching for sarcasm. ‘Right now, I kind of just char stuff. Let me know if you ever want a steak cooked.’
That look of suspicion remained.
‘What you did back there at the marketplace—’
‘Was an accident. Not that I entirely regret it.’
