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She released me sooner than I’d have liked.
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you feel any different? Did it lessen the binds?”
If I could temporarily steal the magic from the vines, could she use her power too?
Emilie stretched her fingers and then closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, and then the space between her eyebrows pinched together. She gasped and her knees buckled, hands flying to her forehead.
I was there to catch her as she fell.
“I take that as a no.”
She shook her head, and my shoulders sank. When she peered up at me, she still seemed so full of hope, though.
“It’s okay. This is a good thing, Ladon. You can practice, get stronger. Maybe even store some magic up to use on a grander scale. We have options now.”
Her smile was wide and bright. One might even call it beautiful. The optimism she carried was contagious, and I found myself imagining the possibilities. A day where we’d blow through this mountain and escape home.
Emilie leaned forward, and her lips brushed against my cheek, leaving a blazing impression on my skin. It was like fire melting through my frozen body. Cold. I’d been so cold in this mountain, under Reyna’s control, but that touch.
I gently touched the spot where her lips had just been. “What was that for?”
Her cheeks turned crimson, and I hoped she didn’t regret it. I didn’t regret it. She brought her hands up to her mouth and released a soft laugh. “I’m sorry. I was just so excited.”
I stared at her, surprised by how carefree she seemed. After all, we were still in a dark, dingy cell of a bedroom. We were still being held captive. And we had done unspeakable things. There was a lot to weigh us both down.
But her eyes twinkled, and I fell into a trance. She dropped her hands while I continued to stare…at her rosy cheeks, at the freckles sprinkled across her nose, at those pink lips. I stupidly wondered what they might taste like.
“It’s okay.” She didn’t need to apologize for touching me. Never again.
After another moment, she reached her hands out to me, and I held them, ignoring the spark that ignited when we touched. It was nothing. Just magic being siphoned.
Her smile was something that couldn’t be ignored, though. Bright and beautiful. She leaned in closer, so our foreheads were almost touching, before she spoke once more. “Do it again.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ladon
Sleeping next to Emilie turned out to be more difficult than it had been before. Even with our backs pressed together, I kept wondering about the touch of her skin. About the taste of her lips. That image of her on her knees made me shiver. The burning desire was quickly replaced with overbearing shame.
I knew it wasn’t right to think of her that way. But it was as if a box had been opened that could not be closed. It tormented me, taunted me with her proximity. With the scent of her. It didn’t help when she’d occasionally turn my way in the middle of the night, wrapping an arm around my waist. I knew she was doing it unconsciously, but that didn’t stop my stomach from tightening. Nor my heart from thundering.
What had she done to me?
It was like a spell had been cast on me. For one moment, as I stared at her sleeping peacefully, I wondered if it was a spell. If it was something Reyna had concocted. But as far as I knew, no such magic existed.
Whatever vile thoughts I had bouncing around my head were my own doing. Just another personal failure to add to my growing list.
As I stared at the ceiling during another restless morning, Emilie shifted, swinging her leg across mine. I swallowed, feeling the entire weight of her thigh over top of me. Her fingers moved across my abdomen, twisting in the fabric of my shirt.
It took my breath away. I lay motionless, torn between not wanting to disturb her and needing to get away before I returned that delicate touch. Before I ran my fingers through her hair. Her hand unclenched my shirt and she exhaled, slow and content.
As sunlight began to creep into our room, I gave up on sleeping entirely and quietly slipped out of bed.
It was almost a week later before we had another chance to work in the Scholars’ Cavern, during which we’d split our time between cleaning the kitchen and scrubbing toilets. At least we hadn’t been forced to trim hedges again.
Emilie beamed as Luther led us to the cave. I kept throwing sideways glances her way, hoping she’d get the hint to knock it off. If they thought we enjoyed this work, they’d never let us see the library again.
Thankfully, she understood my message about halfway through the halls and masked her excitement. It was almost comical the extreme change in her demeanor. I tried not to laugh at her emphasized frown.
