Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(43)

I want him.

That thought is as real and bright as a light beam breaking through the clouds. And if I could just have him, even for a little while, I think things would be better. But I’m terrified. Just touching him feels like I’m burning from the inside out. I lost him once. I don’t want to lose him again. I’m not supposed to have him again, because … reasons.

But I miss him so much. I miss the way he made me feel. I miss being with him, and above all else, I miss kissing him.

Look up.

My hands tighten against his. We’re in this room until morning either way. Why not just enjoy him while I have him? I’m not brave enough to put myself out there. To reason with him. But I can just look and trust that he’ll do the rest.

My eyes raise to Kellyn’s lips, and that’s all the encouragement my mercenary needs.

This time when he kisses me, I’m ready. This time, I kiss him back.

His knees part, so one rests on either side of mine, and I clutch at his arms, holding on as he kisses me senselessly. My memory is a huge disappointment. It focuses on the bad, remembers every detail so I can be tormented by a single embarrassment years later. But the good things? It glosses over them. Lets them fade.

Kissing him now is like the first time. So new and exciting. So wonderful and life-changing.

My hands explore the planes of his face, loving the roughness of the beginnings of the beard that’s growing with our travels. His strong neck. The curve of his jaw. His damp hair in my face.

I love all of it, and my mind is so blessedly quiet that I hope this moment never ends.

A deep noise comes out of the back of his throat when I suck on his lower lip before exploring the inside of his mouth with my tongue. I might be pressing against him too roughly, though, because he’s tilting backward, falling against the bed with me on top of him.

We’ve never kissed while lying down.

Our legs tangle, and I worry that I’m crushing him. I try to raise my weight up on my arms.

“Don’t,” he whispers before pulling me right back down.

All right, then.

I stop thinking about my weight and instead focus on every point of contact between us, how it makes the kissing even better. After an indeterminable amount of time, Kellyn rolls us over. Rolls me beneath him.

And I see exactly what he means.

I love having his weight atop me. Love feeling his strength and the entire length of him spread across me from his head to his feet.

I’ve never been this close to anyone. Had no idea what I was missing out on.

“Don’t ever stop kissing me,” I say. My first words in what feels like hours.

“You choose when we stop, then.”

I don’t stop him until I can barely keep my eyes open. And we collapse into sleep together.



* * *



The next morning, Kellyn doesn’t treat me any differently.

He brings up breakfast from the kitchen, hands me my food, and asks, “How did you sleep?”

“Deeper than usual.”

“Same.”

He doesn’t look at me while we ready the horses. I know, because I’m staring at him every chance I get.

And when we start riding, leaving the town far behind, he hums to himself.

Is that a happy hum? Or a nonchalant hum? Or an I-need-something-to-pass-the-time hum?

Maybe I’m thinking too much about him and what he’s doing. Why should he act differently just because we kissed? Though the humming is a little unusual for him. Whatever. The point is, he’s fine, and I need to be fine, too.

Just act normal. And everything will feel normal.

Eventually.

Maybe.

When I am finally able to get Kellyn out of my head, it is only because my mind finds something else to worry about. I catch sight of the sleeping sword attached to my horse and remember how conflicted I was about making it in the first place. Especially when Ravis could have gotten his hands on it.

And now his men are following us, likely gaining with each day …

After a while, I say, “I’ve been thinking about the sword.”

“Which one?”

“The bastard sword I made to aid us in our escape. I think we should get rid of it.”

“Why?”

I give my horse a pat when he catches himself after stumbling on a rock. “It’s too powerful. It shouldn’t exist. If Ravis gets his hands on it while trying to conquer, he’d knock out legions of men and be free to murder them in their sleep.

“The sword served its purpose,” I continue. “I think it’s time to return it to the ground.”

Kellyn doesn’t say anything for a moment. “It makes sense to me. We want to help our friends, but we can’t risk anything too powerful in the wrong hands. How do you propose we get rid of the sword? Do you want to forge another stone?”

“I don’t think I need to. The sword shouldn’t be indestructible the way Secret Eater is. I didn’t put so much of myself into it. I created this one for a very specific purpose, with a very specific ability. The magic should disperse if the sword is broken.”

Kellyn nods. “We could take care of it right now, then, if you want?”

“I think that’s best. Before anything else can happen.”

“All right.”

We dismount, and Kellyn strides over to a fallen tree. “May I?” he asks.