Page 37 of Silver & Smoke
Knowledge is the victor over fate. The mind is a blade, she chanted to herself as she lathered the soap through her hair.
When she was clean and dry, Wren went to her pack and pulledout the little black box Torj had given her. Smiling to herself, she slipped into the lace undergarments before donning her usual linen dress and apron.
There was no workbench in the room, but there was a dresser that would do. Wren gathered her notebook and potion belt and went to work. Even here it was easy to lose herself in alchemy, in the precious, precarious balance of chemistry and magic. She took the last of her silvertide roses from the silkspore wrappings and methodically removed the thorns. She cast the thought of the burning gardens aside and instead chose to look forwards, to where more roses awaited her in her kingdom. They were her salvation now, her hidden hand against Lucian, should he fail to provide the information she needed about Torj’s poison.
Hours passed as she simmered the beginnings of her cure over the fire. Without all her tools from the workshop, her usual formulas required adjusting, but there was a freedom in that. What once had taken precise measurements now needed intuition and a thorough understanding of how elements might interact, rather than the rigid rules of a laboratory.
Just as she finished stirring the mixture and returned the lid to the pot, she felt him.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she said, her voice raw as she slowly turned.
The Bear Slayer closed the door behind him. ‘I know.’
Wren sucked in a breath, her heart hammering. ‘What about Lucian? He’s downstairs. What if he saw you? Or if someone reports this to him, you visiting my chambers like this?’
‘Lucian’s busy.’
Wren didn’t ask with what. She took a disbelieving step towards the Warsword, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the fire in his eyes.
‘I had to be here for you,’ Torj said, his voice pained. ‘I had to make sure you’re alright.’
‘I’m alright,’ she told him, fighting every instinct in her body toreach for him. If she did, she knew it would be the end of her. Instead, she turned back to the dresser, trying to busy her hands with replacing the vials in her potion belt.
‘That’s it?’
Wren’s fingers stilled as she whispered, ‘You can’t be here. If Lucian—’
‘He’s occupied. And I don’t want to hear his name again.’
Wren could feel him drawing nearer, could feel his gaze searing every part of her.
‘I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that,’ she murmured, not tearing her eyes away from her task as heat flushed her cheeks.
‘Like what, Embers?’
‘Like you want to devour me.’
Torj caged her against the dresser, where he leaned in and ran his nose along the side of her neck, grazing the soft skin there with his teeth. ‘That’s exactly what I want to do.’
‘Torj...’ she warned. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. Heat bloomed between her thighs, and her nipples ached against the rough fabric of her gown.
‘You needed me. So I came.’ Torj slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. ‘We need each other, Embers. Feel what you do to me,’ he said low in her ear, pressing his granite length against her backside.
Wren dropped her belt with a dull thud and spun around to face him, already breathless. She stared into the deep-sea blue of his eyes before gripping his hand and guiding it up her skirt. ‘Feel what you do to me,’ she whispered against his lips.
With fabric bunching around his wrist, Torj groaned as his fingertips brushed lace and he blinked slowly. ‘Are you wearing what I bought you, Embers?’
CHAPTER 20
Torj
‘Only in shadow can we appreciate light’s persistence’
– Bear Slayer, Warsword of Thezmarr
‘YOU’D LIKE TOthink that, wouldn’t you?’ Wren’s words were low and sultry.
‘I would.’ It came out as a growl, the sound rumbling between them. An irrational, primal sense of satisfaction surged through Torj as he glimpsed the black lace Wren was struggling to cover. The undergarmentshe’dbought for her. Taking in the flush across the top of her chest, and her lip caught between her teeth, Torj was nothing but a blaze of longing.
