Page 56 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

She flinched.

Ronan took a step closer, his voice dropping until it seemed they were the only two people in all of existence. “Tell me.”

“I-I can’t.”

“You can.” Another step. “Come on. Let me share the burden.”

Her palms were pressed against his stomach, her breath hostage in her throat. Mutely, she shook her head.

“Please, kitten. Let me in.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she admitted, the confession pulled from her without conscious thought. “I don’t remember specifics. Only that there was a voice.”

“What did it sound like?”

“Cold...” She shuddered as the echo of those terrifying whispers skittered through her mind like so many insects. “And so angry.”

“What else?”

“I... don’t remember.”

“Was it the same voice as last time?”

“Maybe? I’m sorry. It’s all just a blur. The only thing I recall is how it made me feel.”

He shifted until his hands were braced on her shoulders. “How did it make you feel?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, dread curling in her stomach. “Scared.”

His fingers spasmed as his grip on her tightened. “Anything that has the power to scare you terrifies me.”

She didn’t know how badly she needed those words until he uttered them. She’d been feeling off all day, internally tearing herself apart for being weak and skittish. But to have this man—this warrior—validate her feelings... it was everything.

“Ronan,” she whispered, her hand lifting of its own accord to cup his cheek.

His breath stuttered out of him, surprise making his eyes flare wide before pleasure turned the icy blue a molten silver. His gaze dipped to her lips, his own parting as he leaned half an inch closer.

“Hey!” Bast shouted, making them jerk apart. “You two coming?”

Ronan’s groan echoed in the very depths of her soul. “I’m going to murder that fool in his sleep.”

“I’ll help.”

Wrapping an arm around her neck, he pulled her into his side. “Come on, kitten. Let’s find you a bed and then get our hands on a good... stiff—” He let the word hang until heat crept into her cheeks. “Drink.”

Her laugh wobbled at the edges. She knew that had been what he was going to say, but for a second there, her lower belly clenched and...

“Why Shadow, you look disappointed. Were you hoping I was going to offer you something else?”

“What? No, of course not. Don’t flatter yourself.”

His arm flexed around her, and he dropped his mouth to her ear. “You say the word, kitten, and that can be yours too.”

Her stomach swooped, and she stumbled—to her never-ending shame. Empyria’s assassin didnottrip over her own damn feet. Shoving Ronan away, she snapped, “You wish, Butcher.”

His laughter chased her as she stormed ahead of him. “Aye, that I do. But from the looks of it... so do you.”

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything else, because it would only be a lie, and they both knew it. The simple truth was, Ronan was right.

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