Fireblood (29 page)

“That’s what this is about?” He scoffs. “You won’t kiss me because we’re not married?” His hand grasps my jaw, turning my face toward his. “Look me in the eye and say this is the reason.”

I yank back. “Stop it, Sebastian.”

He cups the back of my neck with one hand and holds my jaw firmly with the other, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Say it, Zara. Say the real reason you will not kiss me, or even touch me.”

I grit my teeth, ball my hands into fists—restrain myself from breaking
his
jaw. I look into his eyes. “Release me, Sebastian.” I twist my arms and push my forearms against his, giving one final yank backward, and free myself. I run.

Not because I’m scared of what he’ll do to me, but rather of what I might do to him if he persists.

As I near the entrance of the garden, I’m jerked backward by my skirt. Sebastian twirls me around and grabs my arms, backing me into the lattice wall. He lowers his face before mine. “I want to hear it from your lips that there is no other reason you will not give yourself to me.” His heated breath fans my face, and I struggle against him. “
Say it
.”

His hold on my arms tightens as he pushes me harder against the lattice. His body presses against mine and he grabs my wrists, sliding my hands above my head as he bears all his weight on me. My mind calculates all the ways I could break free of him—all the ways that would have him questioning me. I know I can’t show that I’ve learned to defend myself.

Finally, I give in to his demand, though all I want to do is strike him. I meet his wild eyes. “It is my wish to be married before I’m physical with my husband.” I use the adrenaline burning inside me to shed a tear for good measure. My body shakes.

He releases me, and I grasp one of my wrists, massaging the ache away as much as preventing myself from punching his face. “What is wrong with you?” I say, low and breathy.

His shoulders sag, and he looks to the ground. “I had too much to drink at the celebration,” he admits. “I’m sorry.” As he lifts his head, his eyes search me; his brows pull together. “I’m sorry, Zara. I’ve just been so lost as to why I cannot make you mine.”

I hold his dejected gaze a moment longer, my body thrumming with conflicted fury. I turn my back on him and start out of the garden, saying over my shoulder, “I forgive you, Sebastian.” Then I march toward the castle.

When he is King, I’ll have all the liquor in Karm disposed of.

Suddenly, I stop. I look back toward the garden. My face pinches, remembering the smell of his mint breath. There wasn’t a trace of alcohol.

TWENTY-SEVEN

I
wait for Devlan in the secret chamber under the court grounds. After contacting him through the communicator, I requested that we meet earlier than planned. I couldn’t pace my room, continually replaying the garden scene in my mind, any longer.

The celebration is still going on, and looks like it will continue long into the night if not the early morning. Xander is keeping the prince and knights under close watch so I can train. And though Sebastian was sober in the garden, I’m sure he is now drinking himself into oblivion.

Footsteps sound from the tunnel, and I hide in the dark corner of the room until Devlan comes into view. He stops mid-stride and looks around. I lurch from my hiding spot and jump on his back. “—should always check your perimeter when you enter a room,” I scold.

His hands latch onto my arms and he attempts to throw me off his back, but I lock my legs around his waist. He backs me into a wall, and the air whooshes out of my lungs. My hold on him loosens, and he pries my arms from around him.

“Had enough?” he says, keeping me pinned to the wall. “I’m going to drop you now.”

“All right.” My pride is wounded, as well as my back. I fall to the ground as he releases me. Rubbing my lower back, I glare as he straightens his tunic. “I nearly had you that time.”

He looks up from his rumpled shirt and his lips curl into a half-grin. “I knew you were there. And I’ve known where you were hiding the last two times you’ve tried something like that.” He steps closer. “Just because I don’t turn my head, doesn’t mean I’m not surveying the room.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.” Stepping toward the hidden weapons, I go to remove the dark canvas, but Devlan grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop.

“No swords,” he says. “You won’t be able to sneak one in. I don’t like the idea of you trying to sneak in your dagger either, but you’ll need something.”

“I won’t go without my father’s dagger,” I say evenly.

He nods once. “I know.” He makes a “bring it on” gesture with his hands. “No holding back tonight. Don’t worry about injuring me. Give me all you’ve got.”

“You know just what to say to a girl, Devlan.” I roll my shoulders as his brow furrows and lips part, but I come at him before he can retort.

Crashing into his chest, I knock him off-balance, but only for a moment. Just long enough to swipe at his legs. He staggers, but catches himself before he drops to the ground. He throws a punch and I duck. Then I bound up and send my knee into his kidney.

He grunts, and I follow up with a half-twist and an elbow to the same spot. He hits the wall. “You really aren’t holding back.”

“Not tonight.” I advance on him with another blow to the stomach.

I picture Sebastian’s face as he forced me against the lattice, and anger ignites my blood. I hear the lie on Sebastian’s lips, and send my knee into Devlan’s side. He doubles over, but quickly straightens and grabs me around the waist, hauling me into the air. I latch my legs around his midsection and squeeze. He grunts and flattens my back to the wall.

Perfect
.

Devlan cranes an eyebrow. “I don’t think that was a good move.” His fingers press into my sides, his thumbs rest on my ribs.

His eyes travel over my body, and I smile when they find the strategically laced top of my dress. I arch my back, and his mouth falls considerably open as I slide my hand up my leg and grasp my dagger. I pull it from its sheath and press it to his throat.

His eyes widen, and I release the breath I’d been holding. “Wasn’t there some lesson on secret weapons?” I raise my eyebrows.

His lips stretch into that beautiful smile I so rarely see. “As I said—” his eyes trace the curves of my body before meeting mine again “—a weapon no man can resist.” I hold his unwavering gaze as he backs away from the wall and gently lowers my feet to the ground.

My cheeks warm. I didn’t think Devlan would fall prey to that tactic, but I gloat regardless. I’ve bested him. My chest rises with pride.

He makes another “come at me” motion. “We have no time to waste, princess.” He cocks his head. “I promise I won’t fall for that again.” He lunges at me.

Dagger still in hand, I don’t think; I react, swiping the air before me. He pulls back a fraction too late and my blade slices his chest.

“Devlan—” I reach out to him. “It was instinct. I didn’t mean—”

“You missed.” He looks down and stretches out the cut fabric of his uniform vest and tunic. “At least, I think.” He pulls the tunic and vest over his head, then examines his chest. A thin cut beads red along the left side of his rib cage. “All right, maybe you got me a little.”

I huff out a long breath, relieved. “Don’t tell me you’re truly hurt. A scratch?”

“No, not hurt.” He swipes the slash of red away from his chest before looking up at me. “I’m just wondering how to explain my shredded uniform.” He holds up his tunic.

I bite the inside of my cheek. I didn’t give him a chance to change out of his uniform before I pounced on him. “It’s not shredded,” I argue, though it will be difficult to explain why it’s cut. His lips stretch into a smile, alleviating my worry, and a smile tugs at my lips. “Don’t you have another?”

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes with me this time.” He eyes me, then nods to himself, as if remembering something. He turns and heads toward the canvas. “But I did leave an extra uniform here last time.” His back catches the torchlight, and I see the long scar more clearly here than at the meadow.

He bends over and comes up with a black tunic. His back muscles work against his skin as he turns it right side in. My eyes continue to trace the scar. I can’t help wondering how he got it, if it was a training injury. But it looks too calculated, purposely done, and with a weapon that wouldn’t be used in a combat exercise.

Before I can stop myself, I open my mouth and ask, “How did that happen?”

His back stiffens, and his movements halt. As he lifts his arms in a half-shrug, his shoulders flex, tense. “I was accused of stealing a Court horse.”

My feet involuntarily bring me closer to him, slowly. “Who accused you?” I ask, because I know Devlan is not guilty.

“Sebastian.”

My stomach sinks as understanding dawns. It was Sebastian’s way of severing their relationship. “Sebastian knew the punishment.” I take another measured step toward him. It’s not a question.

“Yes.” His tone is even. “But I’m not sure he knew that he’d be the one to administer it.”

I stop when I’m a breath away from him. My chest tightens as I imagine Sebastian holding the weapon in his hand, inflicting the punishment on Devlan. At the command of his father, I’m sure. Regardless, he carried it out. He chose to end their friendship to become stronger in his father’s eyes, and he cut Devlan deeply—physically and emotionally.

I raise my hand toward his back, and tentatively press my fingertips to the top of the scar. A muscle in his back jumps. Moving downward, I slowly trace my fingers along the smooth, silky skin. His body relaxes against my touch, and he turns to face me as my hand just reaches his ribs. I keep my hand firm against his chest.

My eyes linger on my hand, on his chest as it rises and falls. Lifting my gaze, I meet his eyes. His pale blue irises gleam in the torchlight. My heart races, matching the pounding of his under my palm. His hand covers mine, pressing it firmly over his heart. His eyes flick over my face and settle on my lips. I swallow hard.

A breath passes my trembling lips, and my only desire is to touch them to his. His intense gaze tells me he wants the same. He once said that a kiss was my choice—that I could bestow that gift to the one of my choosing. Only, I can’t remember his exact words as his eyes penetrate mine, overwhelming my thoughts with need for him.

What were his words?

His gaze drops, and his eyes reflect the torchlight, smoldering, as if they’re ablaze from within. He pulls my hand away and raises it between us.

My wrist is blue and black—small bruises having bloomed where Sebastian’s fingers gripped. With his other hand, Devlan takes the arm at my side and examines the bruising along my bicep. I catch my bottom lip between my teeth. Words fail to form on my lips as his breathing deepens, and the embers in his eyes ignite, scorching me with a fierce glare.

“What did he do?” he growls.

I shakily jerk my head, trying to shake it. “No, Devlan. Nothing happened—”

He sidesteps me and marches toward the tunnel entrance. Panic bursts in my chest like a million pinpricks needling all at once, and I sprint after him. “Devlan.
Stop
.”

“I’ll kill him.”

I latch onto his arm, digging my feet into the ground. They slide against the loose rubble on the stone, and I anchor my arm against the corner of the entryway. “Devlan, listen to me,” I plead. “This will end everything
you’ve
worked for.” He barrels on, dragging me with him. He can’t confront Sebastian. We’ll lose all chance of saving our families. “Dammit. Stop!”

As I’m losing my grip on his arm, his words from the corridor that night come to me.

“I choose you.”

His head snaps around, eyes blazing. His jaw works as he looks down at me, his form as still as if he’s in shock.

“Remember?” I ask him, my voice trembling. “Nothing he’s done or will ever do can affect me because…I choose
you
.”

Turning to face me fully, in one swift motion, Devlan captures my face between his palms and crushes his lips to mine.

I stumble back from the impact, but then press against him with equal determination and latch my arms around his neck, grasping his hair as his lips forcefully caress mine. He presses his fingers into my lower back, gripping me to him. Bending his knees, he grasps my thighs and lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his firm waist.

He breaks the kiss, and I gasp for air as his lips move to my neck. He walks us into the chamber, and then lowers me onto the canvas, hovering just above me. His eyes slowly roam over my body, and his hair falls forward into his eyes. I brush it back, how I’ve wanted to do so many times, and he grasps my wrist. He kisses the tender spot on the underside of it, his lips soft and purposeful against my skin.

I loosen the lacing of my dress as his hand caresses my chest along my rib cage, drawing my dress below my shoulders. I bring him to me, threading my fingers into the soft hair above his neck. His lips meet mine, parting them, as his tongue just traces the inside of my mouth.

Heat flares where his body bears down on mine, between my parted legs, and I raise my hips and press against him. He groans against my lips, and my skin prickles at the desperate sound. His hand slips underneath my dress and travels up my thigh until it reaches my leather sheath. He undoes the clasp, and it falls to the floor before he continues roaming farther up. My breaths come in gasps at the feel of his rough skin on mine.

Kissing along my jaw, he works his way higher, and his lips brush my ear. His voice comes low and husky. “I chose you the first moment I saw you.”

The torchlight casts the room into a fevered glow as my eyes meet his. Then the room goes dark as my eyes shut, and I lose myself in his embrace.

TWENTY-EIGHT

A
s I wake, Devlan wraps his arm around my stomach, pulling my back to his chest. His lips brush the back of my neck, and he tenderly kisses just below my hairline. “Morning.”

My eyes snap open in alarm, and I roll over in his arms to meet his eyes. “Morning?”