Page 59 of Oathborn
She nodded. “Blood Ember killed him. We were intended to be married, once the war was over, but—”But, those thoughts which had circled her upstairs, now crystalized as she stood in front of Yansin, who was sweet, and gentle, and so many things Garrick had never been. As a man, Garrick Lockwood had been decent. Fine. Someone who would have been an acceptable husband, according to society. It didn’t matter that he’d never made her heart flutter, nor expressed interest in her hobbies and thoughts. Those were not traits needed for a happy marriage, she’d been told by her governess.
Zari sighed. “I am sad he is gone, but I… I am not sure I grieve him as deeply as I should.”
“Intended to be married,” Yansin echoed. “Is that how aristocrats say it was arranged?”
She gave a little laugh. “Yes. I suppose so. Our fathers thought we’d make a good match.”
“And you?” Yansin looked at her. “What did you think? Did you love him?”
“I… I am not sure.” Zari ran a hand over Garrick’s coat, thinking of how little it meant to her, and how Yansin’s jacket made her feel safe, like a magic talisman.
“If it was love,” Yansin said slowly, “you would know.”
The sword rested between them, the metal hilt reflecting the candles’ light. It was enough to remind her of the dangers they faced. Shyly, she asked, “while we travel do you think you could teach me a bit about wielding a sword?”
“A sword isn’t a toy. Especially not a fae-forged blade.”
“I’m aware,” Zari replied. “I have treated the wounds of those nearly dead from one.”
“I did not mean to underestimate you.” His gaze lingered on her, as a soft smile pulled at his lips. “Only to do my best to keep you safe.”
“You do not have to be so kind to me,” she murmured, her face heating.
At first, she’d known that he fancied her, when he’d asked her out to the ice cream parlor. She still cherished the memory of that night. The next morning,he’d come back changed, with that shadow in his eyes—and she was different too, with the false Oathborn mark on her wrist. When they’d parted back in the capital, Zari had no idea where she stood with Yansin, or what he truly thought of her. Now she worried if she was no more than a burden for him. “I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I have no need of your pity.”
“Zari.” Yansin leaned forward, cupping her face gently with his hands. His eyes locked onto hers. She felt herself drowning in their depths, her breath catching as if she’d plunged into chilly water. His lips parted in the most tempting way.
Still, he gazed at her, taking in all of her, every second, every breath, his eyes so wide, as if she was a work of art, a painting on display at a museum.
Paintings couldn’t be touched. They were kept behind glass, locked up safe and sound. At the moment, nothing in Zari wanted to be safe. Not with him.
Adrenaline raced through her veins from the events of the day, and her skin burned for his touch. She wanted those perfect lips to kiss her, taste her, drink her in. She didn’t want to be on display. She wanted to be worshipped.
The desire in his eyes suggested he was quite willing to offer that devotion, if she just asked. She couldn’t though. Not tonight, when there were still so many secrets between them. “I’m sorry,” she said again, and meant something quite different this time.
With a shuddering exhale, Yansin pulled back, away from her. “I promise you it is not pity I feel for you. Rather, my struggle is to remain agentleman, given our current circumstances.”
In other words, they were alone and unchaperoned. Everything she’d been cautioned to avoid, everything that her governess had told her would lead to ruin, everything no proper lady would allow herself to be with a man.
When they’d warned her of ruin, they hadn’t mentioned the electric tingle of nerves that raced down her skin at his touch. A desire grew within her, a hunger to know more of him, to learn the contours of his body, to feel the firm muscle hidden beneath his clothes. What would it be like to have every inch of him exposed, to kiss and touch all she wanted?
“Yansin, may I…” then, she trailed off, her cheeks burning. She didn’t even know what she wanted permission to do, only that her entire body seemed to burn when he looked at her like that. Her hand hovered, halfway between them.
He caught it, his calloused palm against hers. Their fingers interlocked once more. “You may do anything you wish, Zari, and I must remain a gentleman in return. At least,” he said. For the first time, as he smiled, she saw the flash of sharp teeth in his grin. Not quite fae fangs, but not quite human, either. “At least, for now.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means that, if circumstances were different, I would offer you as many pleasures as there are stars in the sky. For now, though, in this time and place, I will not be so bold.”
As much as his words had made her shiver, he had a point. Whatever this was between them would surely not end well, not when their paths were destined to split. And yet… she whispered, “Another… another kiss. Please.”
What she didn’t say, what she wanted to tell him, was to kiss her somewhere else. Anywhere else. Her cheeks. Her lips. Lower, even, like in a scandalous painting she’d seen in a museum once. On the neck, the shoulder, anywhere left revealed by clothing… or even in places it covered. How easy it would be to guide his agile hands to the zipper of her dress.
“Here?” He gently brushed his thumb over her trembling lip.
Her heart thudded harder, her blood racing through her veins, that electric tension once more zinging in every nerve. “Yes…”
“As you wish.”
