Page 142 of House of Crimson Hearts
I nod, the sobs dissipating.
“In that case,” I say, grinning and nudging her down toward the ground, “I owe you something rather delicious.”
“But your face…” she says, touching my lips.
“My face will feel considerably better between your legs. Besides, your rotten herbs have all but fallen off my cheeks now and I am feeling decidedly better. Now, quit protesting.”
I push her the rest of the way to the carpet and tug at her trousers until she’s bared before me.
I smile, looking at her thighs and belly and all the inches of skin I want to lick and kiss. “You are my favourite thing, Eleanor Randall.”
“And you are mine, Cordelia St Clair.”
And so I spent the night between her legs making her moan my name just as loud as I moaned hers, and when the fire had burnt itself to embers and ash, she took me by the hand and led me to bed where she slept the rest of the night away.
I, though, couldn’t rest.
Something in the air made sleep fitful, and eventually, I gave up, choosing instead to nestle against her hair and drift to the rhythmic lull of her heavy breathing. Knowing that everything would be fine as long as we stayed together.
Chapter38
RED
It’s been twelve hours, and we still have absolutely no idea what the most beautiful object in the city could be.
“This is a waste of fucking time, we’re never going to win this damn trial,” Octavia says and slams her fist into the side of the carriage.
“Do you feel better now?” I say, folding my arms and raising an eyebrow at her.
“What? I can pay to fix it.” She pouts at me.
“Don’t behave like a child.”
She sticks her middle finger up at me, which is bleeding, cut on a splinter from the wall.
My nose flares, her eyes widen. “Sorry,” she says, all the tension dissipating.
We’ve agreed that we should try and wean me off her blood as soon as possible. While the trials aren’t the best time, we can at least lower the amount I take when I take it.
It’s not working exactly, but I am happy about it. I’m feeling clearer too and more like my old self even if I spend half the day wracked with shivers and sweats while my body is trying to get used to the smaller doses. This is the right thing. For both of us.
She wipes her finger on her leg and sucks the wound into her mouth until it clots enough the smell isn’t so strong.
The carriage pulls to a stop in the heart of the Midnight Market. We step out by the library and Gabriel and Keir walk out.
“Too bad for you, we’ve already found the most beautiful item,” Gabriel says.
“Oh, really?” Octavia sneers.
The pair of them hold four ancient books, one in each of their hands.
“Looks like you’ve really decided what that object is,” Octavia says, glancing between their hands. “Of course, you think it’s a book.”
“Not a book, the knowledge within it. There’s no greater power than knowledge. Nothing more beautiful than the preservation of history, what else could it be?”
Keir nods as if that’s the most obvious thing in the world. But I remain unconvinced. The pair of them step into a carriage and we stand side by side, staring after them long after the carriage disappears out of sight.
“He’s wrong, isn’t he?” I say.
