Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(74)

My insides quiver. I shake my head.

He reaches out and gently slides his finger across my knuckle. “It can give you peace. Won’t you trust me, just a little?”

“Never,” I say, but the word seems to float away, meaning nothing, so I add, “Leave me alone.”

“But I can’t. I’m yours and you are mine. There’s no running from that.” He leans closer, nudging my fingers open. “I think you feel it too. I sense your need. I have it inside me as well.” He pulls the velvet sack from my grip. “And yet I know you despise me. So let me help you.”

I just shake my head. “You want revenge,” I say. “My sister killed your brother, and you want to drive me crazy for it.”

He studies my face, conflict in his features. He doesn’t deny it.

“You killed me,” I choke out again, mostly to remind myself.

“No. I set you free,” he whispers. And he pulls the necklace from the sack, holding the bronze medallion in front of my face. “Let me do it again.”

I stare at him, seeing care and determination but no threat. Why don’t I see the threat I know is there? Why won’t he tell me what he wants?

He places the necklace on my chest and reaches around slowly, gently setting the clasp into place. His fingers brush my nape, sending a rush of cold through me. But strangely it’s not an unpleasant feeling. It tingles in my lungs and throat. Then he steps back, giving me space.

And in an instant, my fear and my helplessness all shift to rage in my gut. As he pulls away, I get the urge to lunge at him, kick him in the balls, claw his face. Warmth fills my chest, and I stop cringing away, standing firm. In total control again.

“Next time you touch me without permission,” I growl, “I break your fingers.”

A new grin lifts his lips as he moves back a little more, like he’s admiring me. “Well, well, there she is. Stunning. I hoped it would be this way with you. As soon as I felt you blossom in the night three months ago, I was sure of our connection.”

I blink, confused. “What are you talking about? I have absolutely no connection to you.” But my mind betrays me as his familiar gaze stares back at me, the memory of those silver eyes looking down on me still vivid. Once again, I see the need, the hunger, as our bodies moved together, as I melted into him, into the clover underneath me, wanting it all to last forever . . .

Heat pulses in my skin, my heart thumping like mad against my ribs.

He smirks, motioning to my body. “Of course, if you say so.”

I look down and—

Flames slink over my arms, the same as earlier today with Faelan. Warm and comforting. And empowering.

“It’s lovely,” he says, moving into the shadows a little, the glow of my fire blinding me. “It’s exactly as I hoped it would be. And it wants me burned to a crisp.” A smile lights his eyes, making them glow in the dark. “I knew you had the sun inside you.”

The flames pulse lower, fading into my skin as my fear and confusion rise.

He turns to focus on the crowd like he heard something. “Your protector approaches,” he says. “Looking very disagreeable. That’s my cue to leave.” Before I realize what he’s doing, he reaches out, brushing a finger over the scar he gave me. “We’ll continue this later.” And then he’s gone, leaving black smoke curling in the air in front of me.





TWENTY-EIGHT

FAELAN

I was hoping she’d leave well enough alone, but Astrid has always been the most stubborn woman I know. So I’m not surprised when she slips away from Duncan’s side and approaches me.

I am surprised, though, that she’d let people see her speaking to me.

“Can we talk?” she asks. “Perhaps we can find a quiet spot, just for a moment.”

When I first saw her at the club last night, I was shocked. But after seeing her with my brothers, the way she lets them lord over her, the old anger has bubbled up, the wound she left tearing open a little.

“You don’t want to talk to me,” I say. “And I certainly don’t want to talk to you.”

Her brow pinches. “I know that I hurt you—”

“You betrayed me. There’s a difference.”

“I know,” she says. “There’s just so much you don’t understand.”

I’m shocked she’d make excuses. To me, of all people. Is she really so clueless that she doesn’t realize how low she sank? There’s a reason I’m an outcast. “I understood a lot more than I bloody wanted to sitting in that dungeon, Astrid. For seven years.”

“But it was all so long ago,” she says. “Much time has passed. And your brothers are sorry they caused you pain.”

I glare at her, wondering what underhanded thing she’s playing with. “They’ve said nothing to me.”

“They speak to me,” she says, then she pauses, searching my face. “And they wish to ask you . . . they’d like for you to return home once your time with the newblood has passed. I would wish for that as well.”

I want to laugh. It’s too much to swallow, with everything else. And now here this woman is with the lies, the manipulation. I’d forgotten how good she is. But I don’t have to listen.

I turn to walk away. She places her hand on my arm, stopping me.