Vanish (Firelight #2)(22)

I don’t know who moved first.

Maybe it was both of us. Or maybe I just don’t want to accept that it might have been me. Might have been my head inching forward, my wet face lifting up to his. My heart beating so loud it thundered like a drum in my chest.

His lips are soft at the first brush. One of us trembles. Me or him. Both of us? I don’t know, don’t care.

It’s a feathery kiss, lips brushing, grazing, tasting, almost as if we are afraid of startling each other. And we are.

Even as exhilarated as I feel in this moment, I’m not totally unaware of what’s happening—of the strangeness of me kissing Cassian. It’s terrifying to do this thing that has been unthinkable for so long. But I guess buried underneath it all, tension has always been a humming wire stretched tightly between us. Tonight I let go of my end and the wire snaps free. Before Will, I had wondered about Cassian and me, wondered about us—together. I had thought maybe. Even if I never admitted it to myself, never could because of Tamra. Because I was told that we would be together someday and not asked.

Yet, even knowing all this, I don’t stop. Don’t pull away and run.

The gentle play of his rain-wet lips on mine is sweet, exciting. I lean into him, taste mint on his mouth. My heart warms, softens to have this intimacy, this connection to another soul again.

Until the kiss changes.

The pressure increases ever so slightly. The intensity deepens into something that I feel in my bones, in the sudden snap of my flesh and hot rush of my blood. His lips grow more demanding, hard and soft at the same time, devouring my mouth.

I moan and he quickly pulls back, brushing my face with his fingers. “Is this okay—”

Nodding, I pull him back to me, needing this too much right now. I can’t feel anything but an easing of the ache that’s been gnawing away inside me since leaving Chaparral.

He embraces his hunger.

Strange animal sounds come from him. Or is that me?

Vibrations rumble from my chest, climb up my contracting windpipe. I wedge my arms between us and turn my palms into his chest, craving touch, the sensation of another. I unfurl my fingers so my palms lie flat on his chest. His heart thuds steady and strong.

His hand drags up my back, buries in my wet hair, catching in the thick snarls, but I don’t care. I revel in it, in the knowledge of another’s desire for me—for Cassian’s desire.

His palm cups the back of my skull, cradling my head.

His lips slide from my mouth to my slippery jaw. His teeth nip there and I can’t stop myself. I sigh, feel the pull in my flesh, the snap of my skin and know that I’m no longer entirely human. He’s brought the draki to life in me. Just like Will did.

The thought makes me jerk, suck in a watery breath. I break away, gasping icy air into my smoldering lungs, stare into his eyes, the deepest purple, the pupils thin, dark vertical slits.

Horrified, I brush a hand over my burning mouth before dragging fingers against my skin, feeling its tight, smooth texture and confirming that I’ve halfway manifested. Because of him.

His own skin flashes in and out, dark glittering charcoal. “Jacinda.” I drop my gaze to his mouth, to the lips I tasted with my own. They’re a deep shade of pink, swollen and bruised-looking from kissing. Nausea swells inside me. No, no, no, no . . .

I shake my head savagely and mutter to myself. Wrong. What am I doing? How could I do this to Tamra?

The answer comes to me. I kissed him, seized him, because I could. Because I’m lonely. Because he’s here, wanting me, accepting me. He’s here. And Will’s not.

That’s all there is to it. He’s not what I really want. Not who I want.

“Jacinda,” he whispers.

“I have to go,” I say quickly, shoving wet hair back from my face. “Mom will wonder where I am.” This isn’t true, but I say it anyway.

“Jacinda,” he tries again.

“No,” I say, my voice sharp. “This isn’t going to happen, Cassian. This isn’t fair to—” I stop myself.

“To Tamra,” he supplies.

“And you,” I return. “You deserve someone who can give you everything. Tamra can do that.”

“You can, too,” he returns with such conviction that a small shiver runs through me. “C’mon. You’re getting cold,” he replies, misreading my shiver for a chill. Taking my hand, he guides me to the ladder and lets me descend first.

On the ground, he squints through rain up into the sky. “No flying tonight.”

“Yeah.”

“Tamra’s looking forward to flying with you. She’s disappointed you haven’t come out with her yet.”

“I know.”

“Next time? Will you come?”

“Yeah,” I say, meaning it.

Nothing has changed. I have to adjust back into pride life. I have to forget Will. I have to forget about kissing Cassian. I’ll forget and adjust, and everything will be all right.

We walk through the rain to my house. Cassian follows me up to my door. “See you tomorrow.” His voice is husky as he stares down at me, his eyes different, softer almost. My stomach knots as he turns away.

“Cassian.” I skip down the steps and back into the rain, determined that he understand we’re only friends. We can never be more than that.

Holding a hand over my eyes, I look up at him. “Thanks. I’m glad we’re . . . friends.” I say the word friends deliberately, letting the emphasis get my point across.