Embrace, Entice, Emblaze (29 page)

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“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“Take me away.”

And with that, Phoenix released an onslaught of emotion. I

sank into passion. An eternity of desire and temptation drenched me. Deep within it was a feeling of despair so old it was almost musty. On top of that, layers of new hope shimmered. I sucked it all in, even the waves of pain and ripening anger, which rippled into the mix. I took it all, just happy it wasn’t mine, relieved to be feeling something other than my own private hell. Phoenix let the emotions run and siphoned the flow, pushing aside what he did

not want me to feel and covering it all with an impassable layer of lust.

He supported me like I was a feather and laid me on the

mattress. He kissed me softly, his mouth moving down my neck,

never breaking contact. His hand hovered at my waist, playing

with the bottom of my tank top, pushing it up a little then pulling it back down, trembling with want.

My body ignited as cool heat turned to fire and ice within me.

The smells of the dense forest and smoky fire were drowned out by the smell of white musk. I tasted apple— green, tart, tangy apple.

“Take it off,” I cried.

“No,” he grunted.

He hovered over my mouth. I could feel his quick breath on

my lips.

“Please.”

He didn’t move for a moment, but then he let out a dark growl

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that belonged in the wilderness more than anything else he had

brought with him.

He lowered his body onto mine and pressed the length of it

against me, covering me. I moved his T- shirt up around his chest and he pulled it over his head.

His hand went back to the bottom of my top. This time he

didn’t play with it. One minute it was there; the next it wasn’t. I didn’t know how, didn’t care.

Then something happened that I hadn’t prepared for. It was as

if releasing the pain that had consumed me created a void to be filled. My memories traveled to my birthday, when Lincoln had

kissed me. With Phoenix’s body pressed against mine, I remem-

bered the feel of Lincoln. I remembered the desperation of wanting him closer. The way we had melted together. The way I had always felt so intensely drawn to him.

I felt myself pull Phoenix closer, tighter. He hesitated and then pushed against me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, but I knew it wasn’t him I was desperately trying to hang on to.

“I can read your emotions, Violet,” he whispered into my ear. “I should stop.” But he didn’t pull away.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” was all I could muster. Even as I said it, I knew it was cruel, knew it must hurt him to know I was longing for Lincoln’s touch.

I opened my eyes a little when he didn’t respond. He was looking straight into mine, waiting for me. He battled with himself, but I could see that desire was winning. I knew I had the power. I shifted 243

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a little and then arched slightly in invitation. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and wrapped it around his hand till it was tight against my neck, then he pulled me up to meet him and kissed me without restraint, recapturing my focus.

He kept a firm hold on my hair, his hand at the base of my neck.

Each time I let my mind wander to Lincoln, he tightened his grip on me, pulling me back to him until all other thoughts had been subsumed under the all- consuming layer of Phoenix.

The campfire erupted in a million sparks of light, creating a

canopy above us, a fiery-domed ceiling. The shadows I had seen

around Phoenix earlier returned, along with the thin threads of gold that reminded me of never- ending strands of hair wrapping themselves around him…and me. It was like being spun in toffee.

Between the images that surrounded me and the emotions that

Phoenix bled into me, I could barely form coherent thoughts, yet I felt a growing sense of unease. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

I lay in his arms after. Quiet. Pushing creeping thoughts of

Lincoln from my swirling mind. My homeroom teacher used to

rattle off a quote at the end of school every Friday, before we all headed off to act like out- of- control teenagers over the weekend. It kept playing through my mind.

Remember, all passions start from love or hate. But beware— you
never know whether they will end with delight or sorrow.

I was acutely aware I was lacking in the delight department.

In my struggle to escape the constant downpour of emotions, I

now felt as though I had only succeeded in sinking deeper into the 244

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chasm. I told myself that most first times aren’t all that great and that, physically, Phoenix had been beyond amazing, guiding me

gently the entire time. But that nagging voice inside, the one that always points out the truth even when you’re in denial, was singing hauntingly at me,
Silly, silly Violet
…

We were both silent as he stroked my hair. I pretended to be

asleep for a while. So did he, I think.

“I should get going,” I said finally.

“I could walk with you to the top,” he offered.

“I get the feeling it has to be a solo trip.” I leaned over the mattress, searching for my clothes, keeping the sheets up high for cover. “Thanks, though.”

Phoenix threw the sheet off himself and stood up. He was butt

naked. It was dark, but my eyes had adjusted enough and I couldn’t help but look. His body was truly incredible, and I felt a pang of guilt that I hadn’t given it the sole attention it deserved. Images flashed through my mind, glimpses of fire flaring and shadows

hovering, that made me shiver.

He collected my underwear and cargos and handed them to me.

Then he passed me my tank top.

“How? I thought you ripped it.” I held it up, intact.

“Imagination. I think it probably got away from us both a bit.

I’m sorry if…” He looked down and I felt awful. I braced myself for his leaking emotions. It was times like these, when he was vulnerable, that I felt them most acutely. But nothing came to me, not even the slightest trace.

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I quickly threw my top over my head and shimmied my undies

and pants on while still under the sheet. I crawled over the mattress and sat beside Phoenix, who was on the far edge. I was relieved that he was now wearing pants too. I wasn’t up to the challenge of nakedness and conversation right now.

I put a hand on his shoulder as he had for me just a few hours

ago. “I asked you to be there for me and you were.” I
really
didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“That doesn’t mean it was what you needed. I couldn’t stop

myself. I wanted to be your first.” He was shaking his head regret-fully and wouldn’t look at me.

“That obvious, was it?” I cringed.

“No.” He stood up and paced a couple of steps, picking up a

stick and throwing it into a tree. I heard it slice into the bark, like an axe splitting wood. “No, I just know, Violet. I can sense it.” He sounded angry at himself, tired of his abilities. “You were…I’ve never been so…consumed.”

It was odd he’d used those words. I thought of the camp-

fire, the way it had flared around us and become all- consuming.

Had he seen it? Had he put it there? Had I? I had no idea if it had been a manifestation of his power or my own imagination

working overtime.

I stood. “Let’s just get through today. Then we can talk.”

He accepted this with a nod.

I gave Griffin a quick call and he told me Lincoln was just

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of his voice. I put my phone in my pocket and almost fell into

Phoenix when I turned around to look for him.

I stepped back a little to put some space between us. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there,” I said. I looked down and saw he had my mother’s necklace dangling from his hand.

“I found this on the bed; it must have fallen out of your pocket.” His tone was icy.

I reached to take it from him, but he swung it into his fist.

“Why do you have it?” he asked.

“It was a baby necklace.”

“Do you know what it’s for?”

“No. Do you?” I asked uncomfortably.

“Just an old wives’ tale. Nothing important.” He released the

amulet into my hand.

“Oh,” I said, relieved to have it back in my possession.

Again, I had a nagging feeling I needed to know more about

Phoenix. “Do you remember you once said that you’d tell me

everything someday?”

“Yes.” He looked suspicious.

“When we get all this sorted out, I’d like answers to some questions I have.”

He turned from me and walked over to the mattress. “That’s

fair,” he said, not looking at me. He came back holding out a bottle of water and I felt like a bitch— he was still looking after me.

“Don’t happen to have a flashlight in your bag of tricks, do you?” He shook his head. “Griffin said you have to travel in true light.” 247

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I looked at the mountain above us. I could barely see the outline.

“Any other instructions?”

“Just to get to the top. You’ll know what to do when you get

there.” He pulled me close for a brief second and kissed the top of my head. “Be careful. I’ll be waiting.” His hand ran over the back of my head. It felt bruised from where he had gripped my hair. I guess it hadn’t
all
been gentle.

My old friend guilt niggled at me while I walked away. I wished I could be what Phoenix wanted, but I had a feeling I couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

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chapter
twenty- four

“As for courage and will— we cannot measure how much of each
lies within us; we can only trust there will be sufficient to carry
us through the trials which may lie ahead.”

andre norton

It was a relief I had my sweater, more for protection than anything else. Th e terrain was dense and there were no visible paths to follow.

Th e air was thick with sappy, woodsy smells.

Th ough my eyes had adjusted to the faint moonlight, at a stretch I could only see about thirty feet in any direction. I hoped the sounds I was making, bashing through the trees and stepping on

dried leaves and sticks, would deter any wildlife from investigating rather than provoke them. It would be just my luck to get eaten by some wild animal on my way to jump off a cliff .

I realized too late that taking the most direct route up the

mountain was probably not the smartest idea. I pulled my hood

over my head to help guard against the thorny branches and

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random dead sticks that stretched out from trees, lashing me as I passed.

I stopped only once for a drink of water. It felt surprisingly

comforting to have a clear destination and task at hand. I didn’t want to keep stopping and break my momentum; it only gave me

time to ponder things I couldn’t change. Hiking turned out to be a welcome distraction.

By the time I reached the top, my ankles, which had been exposed between the tops of my shoes and bottom of my pants, had been

ripped to shreds by flying sticks and jagged rocks. The backs of my hands had suffered a similar fate. My face had escaped relatively unharmed, with only a few minor scrapes on my forehead from a

particularly nasty thorn bush. I was grateful that even with my lack of preparation, I had at least picked up a sweater with a hood.

It had been a little more than an hour’s hike, but when I stood at the top of the slope bent over, bracing my hands on my knees, I allowed myself a moment of conquering pride.

Then I straightened— and saw the cliff.

It stood tall. A giant, mocking me with its inevitability. Any

sense of self- accomplishment I had allowed myself to indulge in skittered away.

Mother
…

From below, you wouldn’t even know the peak was so gigantic

it resembled Mount Thor. I swallowed despite my dry mouth and

wondered what waited for me on the other side— or was that at

the bottom?

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