All the Stars and Teeth(82)
Bastian, likely, wanted the same. These people we both have to face are the people capable of hurting us the most—they’re our blood. When Bastian ran, I’ve no doubt he had every hope that his brother would stop. That, eventually, they’d come to a peaceful understanding.
But even our idols—even those we want to love and trust more than anything—can let us down. It’s time we accept it and face the reality they left us with.
“I forgive you,” I tell Bastian, letting the words sit on my tongue for a moment to truly ensure I mean them. “But only if you fight with me tomorrow. I’ll stand by you as you face Kaven, and you by me as we face the king. Fear is part of life; all that matters is what we do with it. So think of the people who are counting on us. We have a chance to fix this.”
I can tell he’s mentally processing the gravity of those words as his lips press together and his head dips. Quietly, he says, “I’ll stand by you.”
“Then tomorrow morning we’re going to march through those woods and find Kaven. We’re more than our blood, both of us. Doing what we can now is all that matters.” The words give me courage I cling to tightly, using it to wipe away the despair I was drowning in mere moments before.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he says. “I don’t deserve anyone’s.”
“Yes, you do.” The pain in his eyes is the same that I feel. “If I can’t forgive you for one mistake, then how can I expect Visidia to forgive the Montaras for a lifetime of lies? Take the forgiveness, and know that from this point on, we’re truly in this together. I understand the choice you made, Bastian. I understand it better than anyone.”
I press my lips to his, and at first the kiss is tender. But as tears begin to wet his cheeks, that tenderness gives way to something raw and passionate. Something almost desperate.
When Bastian knots his fingers into the back of my curls, his touch is electricity. I shiver each time his thumb strokes the back of my neck.
Falling back in the cot, I make fists in his shirt and pull his body on top of mine. His lips are rum sweet as I drink him in, nodding permission when his fingers hesitate at the edge of my tunic. When his hazel eyes catch mine, my body ignites.
Bastian’s hands are warm and rough as they slip beneath my tunic, roaming the skin of my stomach. Exploring the curves of my hips.
My eyes flutter shut as his lips find my neck. He alternates between peppering soft kisses and gentle bites. I hold him to me, one hand wrapped around his back and the other curled tight in his chestnut waves.
I want this.
I want him.
There’s a heat in my belly that pushes me forward, guiding my fingers to the buttons of his shirt. He makes no complaint as I fumble to undo them. The moment it’s off, he slides down so that his lips are on my hip bone and I have to grip the cot to steady myself as they rove lower and lower, until he’s kissing the skin of my thighs.
His fingers slide beneath the band of my pants and I tense, not realizing I’ve hardly been breathing this whole time.
Bastian pauses immediately, warm eyes flickering to mine as he draws back up and plants a tender kiss to my lips. It’s the taste of rum on them that spurs me back into reality. I pull back quickly, drawing heavy breaths. My body is too aware of him; every inch of me that he’s touched burns with desire.
“Are you okay?” Bastian asks urgently, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. “We don’t have to do anything, Amora. We can stop.”
“I don’t want to stop.” I catch his hand in mine and draw it to my lips, kissing his palm. His fingers. Knuckles. “But we need to. You’re drunk, Bastian.”
“It was only a few drinks,” he protests, peeling his grip away to kiss my neck once more. “I’m fine.”
Despite how much I might want it, I press my hands to his chest and ease him back. “We’ll have other chances,” I tell him calmly. “Hopefully many more. But tonight isn’t one of them.”
He opens his mouth as if to say something, but closes it with a quiet sigh. Gently, he eases himself off me, sitting on his knees at the edge of the cot. My body aches with the missing weight of him. I feel too light. Too cold.
Slowly I set my hand on his thigh. He takes it with a smile.
“I couldn’t do any of this without you, you know.” He squeezes my hand gently. “I want you to know that I’m incredibly thankful for you, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You’re a pirate, Bastian Bargas.” I smile when his lips crack at the name. “You would have found a way.”
He slips his fingers free and pulls me into a gentle hug. It lasts for only a moment before he eases away. He doesn’t look back at me until his hand is on the door. “It’s Altair, by the way. Bastian Altair.” And then he laughs, a soft and quiet sound. “Stars, I haven’t said that name in ages. It … feels good.”
In my cot, I smile as the door shuts behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Only Zale sees us off as we sneak away early the next morning, and we make our way deep into the woods as the sun rises. For the past hour, these woods have tried only to devour us.
The white birch trees are dampened with the early morning mist that’s rolled in from the shore. The farther into it we plunge, the more they consume. Overgrown roots grab at me, bruising and cutting my ankles, attempting to wrench me into the earth. Below us, the ground is covered with soot that coats my boots black.