Page 122 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"You saved me."
"Did I? Or did I just slow it down?" She pulled her hand away, turning from me. "What if this is all I can do? What if I can keep you stable but everyone else dies anyway?"
I caught her chin, turning her back to face me. "Then we find another way."
"There is no other way. Gryven was right about that much."
Gryven's name hung in the air between us like a curse. My oldest friend. The man who'd raised me after my father died. Now exiled to the Fog District, stripped of rank and title, condemned to live out his days as a common soldier.
He'd betrayed me. Chosen duty over friendship, the realm over trust. And part of me understood why. The Rot was killing us. Miralyte's heart could cure it. The equation was simple, brutal, and completely unacceptable.
"He made his choice," I said quietly. "Just as I made mine."
"You exiled the only father figure you had because of me."
"I exiled him because he disobeyed my orders."
"Maybe he was right to."
I stepped back, staring at her in shock. "Don't you ever say that again."
"Zydar—"
"No." My voice carried the full weight of my authority, the storm magic responding to my emotion. Thunder rumbled overhead, and the windows rattled in their frames. "You are not expendable. You are not a sacrifice to be made for the greater good. You are my heart, and I will watch this entire realm burn before I let anyone harm you."
She stared at me with wide eyes, and I realized I'd revealed more than I intended. The possessiveness in my voice. The absolute certainty that I would choose her over everything else, every time.
Then her lips curved into the most infuriating smirk I'd ever seen.
"Yours?" She stepped closer, that dangerous glint in her golden eyes. "That's funny, because last I checked, I don't remember agreeing to belong to anyone."
The challenge in her voice hit me like lightning to my heart. This wasn't the trembling mortal girl who'd been dragged here months ago. This was something else entirely. Something that made my blood sing with equal parts desire and the urge to prove exactly how wrong she was.
"Is that so?" I moved toward her, slow and deliberate. "Your body seems to think otherwise."
She laughed, the sound bright and mocking. "My body has excellent taste. Doesn't mean it makes the decisions."
"Doesn't it?" I was close enough now to see the way her pulse fluttered at her throat, to catch the scent of sunfire and defiance that clung to her skin. "Your heart is racing."
"From annoyance," she shot back, but her breathing had quickened.
"Liar."
She tilted her chin up, meeting my gaze without flinching. "Prove it."
Rage and desire ignited in my blood like wildfire. I wrapped my hands in her hair, pulling her mouth to mine in a violent kiss. There was nothing gentle in it. Nothing soft. Just pure, unbridled lust poured into every motion of my tongue and teeth.
She kissed me back with equal ferocity. She clung to me, her nails digging into my shoulders, each breath a mingling of hot, hungry gasps.
When I finally broke the kiss, we were both breathing hard. It took every ounce of my self control not to devour her all over again.
She looked up at me, her eyes dazed but triumphant. "Not convinced."
"Careful what you ask for, little sun queen."
"Oh, I'm terrified." She rolled her eyes, the gesture so perfectly human it made something twist in my chest. "The big bad warlord might actually have to back up all that posturing."
Heat flared through me, primal and possessive. "Posturing?"
