Page 141 of Nightbane
Isla’s voice was thick with emotion when she said, “And it will be fun pretending like I don’t know the shadows at your feet puddle when you’re happy. Or that, for some reason, you’ve had healers remove every one of your scars, except for the one I gave you. Or that you have a magnificent tub in your bathroom, and an even more magnificent ego.” She bit her lip. “And that, even though I hated you,really, really hated you ... whenever I’m not with you, whenever I’m with anyone else, I feel hopelessly alone.”
He took her hand, and she said, “At the Centennial ... we’re going to be strangers.”
“No,” he said. “We could never be just strangers.”
“So what are we then?” she asked. “If not strangers? If not ... enemies?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I want to be the only person you glare at, Hearteater. I want to be the only person you insult. I want to be the only name you speak in your sleep.” His eyes darkened. “I want to be the only person who knows how to make you writhe against a wall.” He studied her. “You know what? I want everything. I want to be greedy and selfish with you. I want all your laughs. All your smiles too.” He frowned. “I would rather die than watch you smile at anyone that isn’t me.” Grim closed his eyes slowly. He looked almost pained.
Why pain? It didn’t make sense.
When he opened them, he said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“No,” she said. “There’s somethingIneed to tell you.”
He had saved her life. She hadn’t ever trusted anyone this much, other than Celeste. For some reason, she wanted him to see all of her. She didn’t want to hide it any longer.
She swallowed. Her guardians would have her head if they knew she was about to tell the ruler of Nightshade her greatest secret. “I—” she said. “I’m—”
Grim watched her struggle to get the words out, and he grabbed her hand, to keep her from touching her hair. “Hearteater,” he said, the word so gentle now in his mouth. “I know.”
Her brows came together.
What did he think he knew? What did he think she was talking about?
“I know that the curses don’t apply to you,” he said. “I know that you have never wielded power.”
She stepped back. Time had been wounded; it wasn’t moving, it was dead—
Part of her wondered if she should run, or hide, or be afraid—
“I’ve known for a while.”
He’s known for a while.And he hadn’t tried to kill her. He hadn’t shared her secret. He’d continued to work with her. He knew how meaningless her life was, how weak she was, how in trouble her people were, and yet ... he hadn’t used it to his advantage.
“Nightshades can sense curses. I didn’t realize it at first, but I couldn’t sense yours. Then, when the Wildlings were able to attack you in the forest, to try to get your heart ...” Of course he would have questioned why Isla hadn’t fought back. Why she hadn’t used even a drop of power the entire time they were working together.
Tears fell freely now. “Grim ... what—what is wrong with me?”
He took her face in both his hands. “Nothing, absolutely nothing, is wrong with you, heart.” He said it for the second time, and it directly contradicted everything she had ever thought about herself.
She went on her toes and kissed him. It was clumsy and too forceful and caught him by surprise. She fell on her heels, wondering why in the world she’d done that, but she didn’t wonder for long.
Hands still pressed to her face, he ducked and parted her lips with his own, kissing her like she might be leaving, like he might never get to do it again. His tongue swept across the roof of her mouth, and she groaned. This was impossible—it was impossible to feel this good.
She was a burning flame, and there were too many clothes, too many layers between them. She had always been told that her body didn’t belong to her, it belonged to the realm, butno, right now she wanted to feel everything that was possible. She wanted Grim toshowher.
“I want you,” she said, breaking their kiss, breathing too quickly. “I want everything.”
Grim looked like he might be losing his mind. Like he couldn’t have possibly heard her correctly. His chest was heaving. He blinked. Again. Said, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said, and she meant it more than she had ever meant anything else.
Grim swallowed. “I’m not gentle,” he said gruffly.
Isla opened her mouth. Closed it. The thought of him not being gentle ... it unexplainably made her feel hot everywhere.
“Could—could you be?”
