Page 133 of Esperance

“It was an in-person meeting?” he clarified.

“Yes. With Samuel.”

Surprise sparked. “Samuel is a rebel?”

She nodded.

Carver seemed to process this, then set it aside so he could ask his next question. “Is Cleric Felinus a rebel?”

“What?”

“Has he been working with you?”

“No. He’s just a friend.”

“What about King Torin and your uncle Rix? Are they aligned with the rebels?”

“They don’t—they have nothing to do with this.” Saints, she should have realized she’d be asked that question.

Carver’s eyes narrowed. “Let me hazard a guess. King Torin is the one the rebels approached. Then he and Rix approached you.”

She could only stare.

He made a sound in his throat. “You’re not the first person to betray the Rising. We’ve known all along that the rebels had people inside Esperance. It’s one of the reasons the emperor asked me to come here. To find them.”

A chill skated down her spine despite the warm stone at her back. “And you found me.”

He said nothing.

She swallowed hard, her stomach sinking. “What happens now?”

Carver moved around the settee, not stopping until he was right in front of her. She had to lift her chin to keep his gaze.

Her heart pounded as she waited for him to declare her fate.

His throat flexed as he swallowed. “You chose to forfeit your life by coming to tell me this. You risked everything to save Argent and Jayveh. To save me.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

His emotions flared, a potent mix she didn’t have time to decipher, because suddenly his hands framed her face. When his thumbs skated over her cheeks, she lost the ability to focus on anything but that touch. That swell of heat and spike of desire.

His mouth descended slowly, giving her every chance to stop him.

She didn’t.

His lips brushed hers once, a hesitant touch that branded her, body and soul. Her pulse stuttered, and when he moved to draw back, her fingers curled in his shirt and pulled him closer.

His mouth melded with hers, all hesitation gone as he pressed her back against the column. His lips were a fascinating combination of soft and hard. Powerful and gentle. And when he changed the angle of the kiss, deepening it, her knees weakened.

His fingers delved into her hair. His chest felt as solid against hers as the stone column at her back. His tongue touched her lips, coaxing them open, and her breath caught.

She’d never been kissed. She had no idea what to do.

Carver did.

His tongue swept against hers, and she couldn’t hold back a moan as she melted against him.

Their breaths came out sharp and fast, and their hearts raced; she could feel his beating rapidly against her hand. And when one of his hands slid down the curve of her side, tugging her body until it was flush against his . . . Saints, thinking was impossible.Thiskisswas impossible.

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