Page 80 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
Tightness squeezes me, begging me to reply with something—anything—but what is there to say? My magic dances inside of me, an anxious feeling to it that leaves my stomach in knots.
He gives me an easy smile before helping me up to stand, my stiff limbs needing support from him for a few steps. Bella stretches from where she is laying before she gets up as well. I walk over to her, scratching down her neck and on the top of her head. Flynn puts both of our bags back over his shoulders, his sword still strapped down his back, before holding my hand and leading us back into the thick trees. We’re on the other side of the river now, so I hope that means we’ll have an easier time escaping if the King’s Guard shows up again. Our pace is brisk and quiet, neither of us wanting to waste breath on talking. Still, I can feel Flynn’s sideways glances towards me every so often, his concern for me a cloak of reassurance wrapped around my shoulders.
What’s wrong with me?He has stated over andoverthat he just wants to help, but I can’t find it in myself to open up to him. I want him, the need going beyond just a physical ache and more like an insatiable feeling—a rightness that is begging to be fulfilled. Yet I can’t stop the immense guilt I feel over it.It’s because you know you don’t deserve him.Tears well in my eyes as I try to fight them off. Deep down, I know it’s the truth. He’s already risked so much—givensomuch—and what has he gotten in return? What could I possibly give him but a life of being hunted by the madman who happens to rule our kingdom? Who has unlimited resources to try and get me back? A man who has already shown me that he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way? Nowhere will be safe for him. Flynn’s given me care and compassion and friendship, but I’ve gotten him stabbed, forced him to go on the run, and risked his home and family in the process. I’m selfish—so stupidly selfish—just like I was with Alexi. Just like I was with Bella.
It’s almost instantaneous, how those thoughts lead to a void that I thought I was long past. It’s laughable how easy it is to pretend like I don’t have this icy darkness lying beneath the surface, waiting to completely pull me under. And as the hours pass and the moon begins to rise, I wonder to myself how much longer I’m willing to put him at risk while I chase a freedom that might not exist.
We finally stop to rest when Flynn spots a small sandy bank on the edge of the river. The waterway has widened quite a bit since we started following it, the trees on the other side barely visible in the moonlight past the water’s edge. We haven’t spoken in hours, and as I chew on some mint leaves that Flynn found for us on our trek, I wonder if the tension between us is imagined or not. The cooling taste of the mint wears off as Flynn slows our pace down.
“We can wash up here and then move a little farther into the woods to sleep for a few hours before we need to get moving again,” he says, taking off our bags and laying them up against a tree.
“How much farther do we have to go?” I ask. My eyes are on him as he sets up a little area for Bella to finish off the food we brought for her. With all of the walking we’ve done, I know she’ll have to hunt for additional food to sate her hunger.
“We should hit a small town tomorrow in the late afternoon if we can walk a good portion of the night. We can sleep at an inn there for a few hours, and then it will take us another day and a half to get to our final destination.” He walks over to my satchel, picking it up from the ground and handing it to me. “Why don’t you wash up first? I’ll be waiting on the other side of the trees here to give you some privacy.”
My hand brushes his as I grab the bag, our eyes lingering for a moment before he turns to walk away. I watch him move towards a bigger tree on the edge of the bank, his back to me the entire time before he sinks down and leans against the trunk. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to call him back, to ask him to come with me into the water. The offer is on the tip of my tongue, burning to get past my lips, but it appears as if Flynn doesn’t want that. Could I blame him if that were true? Thorny vines constrict my throat, but I force a swallow down and ignore the feeling.
I set the satchel down at my feet, digging under the food within to grab my hair and tooth brushes, soap, and the mint leaf paste for my teeth. I take out my clean clothing and set them on top before walking to the edge of the water. The river curves here, the current appearing more calm at the wide bend. Sitting down, I remove my boots. My feet don’t ache nearly as badly as I know they could, and I’m sure that I have my magic to thank for that. Once the boots are off, I stand up and peer around me. This area of the forest is dark, but the moon is right overhead, its glowing light illuminating enough of the water that I can see a few feet ahead of me. I look back over my shoulder to where Flynn is sitting, and a small flare of disappointment hits when I see his back is still to me.
I shouldn’t be surprised, he doesn’t strike me as the type of man that would sneak looks at me. I sigh, exasperated with myself before I untuck what remains of Alexi’s shirt and lift it over my head. Sadness washes over me as I stare at the dirty and bloodied fabric that belonged to him. My throat constricts, my emotions feeling too volatile—too wild—as I reverently fold the destroyed shirt and lay it carefully on the ground. The rest of my clothing comes off in a more hasty manner before I grab the soap and tiptoe into the water. It’s cold enough that goosebumps break out over my skin causing me to suck in a breath. I continue on until the water comes up to my shoulders, the iciness of it temporarily numbing my feelings. Scrubbing meticulously at my scalp first, I run my fingers through my hair with the shampoo lather, working out as many knots as I can. While I wash my body, I search for scars on my shoulders and thigh but find only smooth skin. I shouldn’t be surprised that my body holds no sign of injury, but the pain that I felt as Flynn removed the arrows made me wonder if there is a threshold to what my magic can heal. If there is, I apparently haven’t found it yet.
Once I’m washed and rinsed, I walk back to the shore, squeezing out the water from my hair as best I can. I get dressed in my undergarments, the light blue cottony material becoming damp from being unable to dry myself off first. I hold the mint paste out and realize I don’t exactly want to use the river water to wash my mouth out.
“Do we have any more water left?” I shout out to Flynn, picking up my toothbrush. He brought two full waterskins with him in his pack that hopefully aren’t ruined from our detour into the river.
When my question goes unanswered, I look up to where Flynn should be sitting against the trunk of the tree. Instead, I find him standing—waterskin in hand—gaze locked on me. His chest rises and falls harshly, and even across the small distance that’s blanketed in shadowy moonlight, there is no mistaking the wild look in his eyes. Despite the air being warm, my body shivers under his undivided attention. I don’t know what he can see, and as my heart races, a small voice from the corner of my mind confesses that I don’t care. The thought should be jarring, as this is the first time I’ve ever been in less than a modest nightdress in front of a man before, but I make no move to cover myself because this isn’t justsome man. It’s Flynn, and while I may not feel like I’m worthy of his affection, I yearn for him all the same. I still want him in ways that are primitive and fierce. It’s a demand that blazes within and shuts all other emotions out. Inside, I feel reckless, but outside, I just want to feelhim. My body craves his touch as though it is a different kind of sustenance.
He doesn’t move to me though, his grip on the waterskin so tight that I’m afraid it will burst. His body is all rigid tension and held-back desire, but his eyes devour me in hungry licks over my skin. I take a step to him—then another and another—until our chests are merely a hand-width apart. Flynn’s gaze stays pinned on me, dipping to look at my body before quickly coming back up. His throat bobs, and his fist tightens even more on the waterskin. My lips part, a whisper of breath rushing in and out of me as I tilt my head up to look at him. Neither of us moves for a moment, the only sound that of the owls hooting in the distance and the gentle movement of water behind me.
Finally,Flynn drags his hand up my arm slowly, his fingertips leaving goosebumps as they make their way to my shoulder. There, he caresses my skin for a moment, his breath quickening before his hand moves up higher on my neck until he is resting his thumb just underneath my jaw. His fingers wrap around to the back of my neck, tangling in my hair, as he just holds me there. I wait for the burning desire I can see aflame in those pools of smoky slate to overtake him—to overtakeme.
“You areeverything,” he breathes as his eyes flare with all-encompassing want. A look that I know mirrors my own.
“So are you,” I whisper. Unable to hold back any longer, I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers brushing the silken ends of his hair. Lifting onto my toes, I press my body against his, though I don’t close the distance between our lips.Home.I nearly gasp out loud at the quiet word that tumbles through my mind. At howrightit feels.
“Fuck,” he growls, the word scraping along my mouth and flooding my body with heat.
Like the merging of two summer storms, lightning sparks as our lips find each other in a frenzy. The waterskin falls to the ground, his hand now flat against the bare skin of my lower back. My soft answering moan is the only sound competing with the forest animals as I hold onto him. His taste is that of mint and something so uniquelyhim.I need more, my fingers digging fully into his wavy strands. He presses me in even closer, my front completely molded to his, as my mind falls blissfully quiet. My mouth moves against his, our tongues so closely entangled that it’s a wonder I can stillbreathe. Kissing him is like feeling every flickering star in the sky burn through me. It leaves me full yet desperate for more at the same time.
A calloused hand slides down to my hip slowly, the sensation driving me to a precipice I’ve never felt before. He grips my hair gently, a groan vibrating in his chest and sending chills throughout my body. I want more, and I never want him to stop touching me like this. It is arelief—the desire that he causes within me burns too brightly to let my darkest thoughts surface. I revel in it, one of my hands sliding down from his hair to his chest and then more slowly towards his firm abdomen. My heart beats in my ears, every part of me on fire as I near exactly what I want to feel. What I’ve never felt before. Until, suddenly, Flynn stops. He unseals our lips to stare down at me, his gaze starving. Our chests heave in tandem, my hand frozen near his waistband, while he slowly begins to release his grip on me.No.
“What is it?” I ask with a lust-induced slur to my words.
His forehead rests against mine, our breaths mixing together as his eyes fall closed.
“I need you to please get dressed.Please,” he finally answers, though the words seem painful for him to say. He releases me fully as I step back, dropping my gaze to my body and wondering if he finds something lacking. When I look back up, he’s already walking back to the tree he was at before. My heart sinks as I grab the waterskin off of the ground and walk over to my dress, pulling it on before stepping back near the edge of the water to brush my teeth. When I’m finished, I leave the soap and paste out for him and grab my boots and hairbrush, making my way barefoot to the edge of the tree line.
“Your turn,” I say quietly, taking a seat on a thick exposed root. Flynn stands, studying me silently for a few seconds before he makes his way onto the bank. Bella trots out from the deeper part of the forest before me, hauling something very dead that I’d rather not look at in her mouth. “Please do not eat that by me,” I caution, fighting off the urge to gag. She moves a few trees down before laying her kill on the ground and digging in. It’s definitely not far enough away, as I hear the crunching of bones and tearing of flesh. To keep myself from vomiting, I focus entirely on brushing out my long hair, starting at the tips and slowly moving up. I’m nearly finished by the time Flynn reappears. He has changed as well, wearing a dark blue tighter-fitting tunic over black trousers tucked into his calf-high boots. I notice his sword isn’t on him nor anywhere near the tree. “Where is your sword?” I ask, keeping my gaze on the pile of fallen leaves ahead of me.
“I’m going to leave it here. It’s better that we enter the small town without it,” he answers before falling quiet again. I move to grab a ribbon from my satchel leaning against the tree next to us, feeling hyper-aware of his stare on me the whole time. “Can I—” Flynn starts before clearing his throat as my eyes flick to his. “Can I braid your hair?” The moonlight doesn’t fully make it all the way to where we are, tucked into the edge of the trees, but it’s enough to see the slight blush on his cheeks. The faint color is at odds with the dark stubble now growing in on the lower half of his face.
“You know how?” I query, digging through my satchel to find the hair ribbon.
“I do,” he answers. “My mother taught me as a boy.” His admission brings a small smile to my face, his words invoking the image of a younger version of him practicing at his mother’s behest. But then my smile fades, his actions earlier making me tense again in response.
“You seemed mad at me,” I say. When his eyebrows draw together, I explain further. “Earlier, when we were together.”
“Ah,” he sighs as he reaches a hand out for me. I step forward, placing mine in his and meeting his softened gaze. “It wasn’t anger, Sunshine. It was self-preservation.”
