Page 101 of The Coven of Ruin
“Oh.” He had been powerless all along, just in a different way.
“But you were unbelievable. Fierce. Courageous.”
“But it wasn’t enough to save us,” she murmured.
“I wasn’t enough to save you,” he confessed, turning his head to look at her. His expression was open, and all she could see were centuries of loss. “Why didn’t you leave the hall?” The question overflowed with anguish, not blame.
“I couldn’t leave all of you,” she admitted. “I thought if I could just reach you…” Regret hung heavy in the space between them.
“It’s no matter now,” he said with a heavy exhale. “What youcantell me is your second condition from that night in your chambers.”
A breathy laugh escaped her. “That’s what you want to know?”
“Indulge me,” he said low in his throat.
“I had taken a pain tonic. I wasn’t fully myself.”
Her neck stung from where the blade cut into her, but otherwise, her body was slowly becoming numb. Having exhausted her essence, the dark magic from the arrow had nothing to feed off of but her life force. She’d be dead within an hour, and Ares probably sooner, with his previous wound already weakening him.
“So, it no longer applies? I am free from the condition?”
She thought about it carefully, studying him. The silver tendrils of the moon highlighted the angled planes of his face. “It still applies.”
“Hmm,” he hummed.
“Do you truly not know what I was going to ask?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
What did it matter now? She was too exhausted to even blush. They’d die and never have to deal with the consequences. “Armor for armor,” she quietly countered.
“As you wish. But you answer first.”
“The second condition,” she said slowly, “was I wanted you to kiss me.”
“Ask it of me,” he commanded, “so I can die with my debts fulfilled.”
Her gaze dipped to his lips. “Ares, would you kiss me?”
He held out a hand to her, and she took it. Ares both guided and supported her as she edged toward him. It was all soft groans and careful movements as his hand moved to her hip, stabilizing her as she slid one leg over his body to straddle him. He brought his ruined arm up, fingers reaching to move strands of her hair out of the way. When his fingertips gently caressed her cheek, she rested her face against his heated palm for a heartbeat.
She had imagined what it would be like to be touched by him. But she could have never known that he would touch her like she was sacred. Like he didn’t think he deserved to.
Inching forward, she trailed her hands up his chest, but the arrow lodged in her side protested. She whimpered as it did, closing her eyes against the pain.
“Don’t,” he murmured. Struggling to sit up, he grunted softly. But suddenly, they were sharing breath, his face inches from her own.
She raised her hands to touch his face but hesitated, her fingers hovering over his flesh. His dark golden gaze was still fortified. “Can I touch you?”
Swallowing hard, he shut his eyes and then nodded.
Her fingers danced across his skin, traced his tense jaw, flattened the line between his brows. When he opened his eyes again, they smoldered with a need that matched her heart’s. She ceased her exploration to rest her hands on his neck, her thumbs on his cheeks.
But it was the god who closed the distance between their mouths.
Their lips met with the taste of salt and loss, iron and fire. They kissed like the world was ending around them, and only their shared breaths could survive it. Ares wrapped his arm around her back, pressing her closer to his body, her own a perfect fit against his.
His tongue demanded entry, and she gave him access without question. It was both torment and rapture to taste him, to touch him. Skimming her fingertips up the nape of his neck to bury in his dark locks evoked a gasp from him against her lips.
