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No.His left hand came up as he signed the word with his right, stroking up along the side of my neck, his slender fingers tracing the small curls behind my ear until I shivered.Just that there’s a generous grey area between trying to please every single person on our side and abandoning them to die. And that perhaps you should focus on pleasing yourself more than on pleasing a handful of phoenixes you’ve never met.
‘But weneedthem! If I don’t manage to persuade them …’
He shrugged.They need you, too. They’ll figure that out at some point. We might just have to be a little more impolite about it.
A shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t think I wanted to know what impoliteness meant to the Silent Death, and I doubted the phoenix elders would be much happier to find out. ‘Fine, but it’s not just about the phoenixes. If we have to drag them into this war kicking and screaming, the family will be pissed, too, and—’
They’re alves, he signed wryly.They’re always furious about something.
‘I still don’t want that something to be me!’ I tried to step back but found the wall closer than I’d expected, the unyielding marble cold through the linen of my dress. ‘Just because you can shrug their opinions off so easily …’
Creon raised an eyebrow, waiting.
‘Well,’ I mumbled, suddenly defensive, ‘I can’t. That’s all.’
Isn’t it interesting, he signed slowly,how utterly fearless you are as long as you dislike your opponents, Em? And how as soon as you start liking them, as soon as you should be able to trust them, you turn into this frightened little shadow of yourself?
I stiffened. ‘What are you trying to say?’
Just that I love your sharp edges so damn much.There was something painfully disarming about the simplicity of those signs – something vulnerable that made every retort sizzle out on my tongue.Watching you trying to turn yourself into something soft and pliable for the rest of the world is a very special kind of torture.
‘I’m notpliable.’ I tried to move away from the wall and ended up shoving myself into his muscular chest when he didn’t budge, close enough to breathe angrily into his face. ‘Just because I try not to start any wars where I don’t need them …’
You’re muzzling yourself, he corrected sweetly.
‘You,’ I said sharply, planting a fingertip in his rock-hard chest, ‘are stupidly determined to hate everyone around you for the rest of your lifetime, just so you’ll never have to worry they might dislike you despite your best attempts. Do you really think you’re in a position to lecture me?’
A grin flickered around the corners of his lips.Good. That’s more like it.
‘More like what?’
More like you.The darkness in his eyes had mellowed to a far more familiar smoulder, that thrown gauntlet that could have lured me from the grave just to accept the challenge.Is this the moment to remind you I warned you against taking the alves along?
Those same alves who might be combing Zera’s temple for me while we were standing here in the emerald darkness … but it was so dangerously easy to forget about that minor detail at the sight of the twinkle in his eyes. I scoffed, jutted up my chin. ‘Are you trying to piss me off now, Your Highness?’
His smile was the most wicked of confirmations.Is it working?
‘You know perfectly well that it’s working.’ Damn him, and yet … there was something so very irresistible about this, about these fights that ended in victory no matter who won. ‘Brace yourself for the force of my ire. I certainly won’t be muzzling myself foryou, at least.’
I’d take offense if you did, he signed dryly.I like you loud and utterly undone, cactus.
Fuck. He was too close, far too close, to sign such dangerous words to me; my skin suddenly felt feverish against the cold marble, a heat spreading all the way from some nameless part at the core of me. Thank the gods for the pale green light of this room, which would at least hide the worst of my blushing. ‘We’re standing in a temple, you utter heathen.’
Goddess of love.He tilted his head a fraction, pressing a single gossamer kiss to my cheek, then a second one to my cheekbone. His lips were soft as silk and trailed over my skin with the feathery gentleness of a butterfly’s wings. My breath hitched when he pulled back.Pretty sure she’s seen worse.
Scoffing was all I could do to keep my legs from melting. ‘You have no right to speak. I’m pretty sure you haven’t prayed to a single god in your life.’
Once, he signed, and although every flick of his fingers was drenched in languid amusement, I didn’t doubt he was speaking the truth.The hours after I first found you. I’m pretty sure I invoked a couple of gods in those moments of hoping you were indeed who I needed.
He was so close now that I could feel the warmth of his skin against my thighs and belly, his mere presence enough to keep me paralysed where I stood. Around us, the room was perfectly quiet. The altar and pillows were unmoving witnesses, the thick marble walls unwavering guards. Shrouded in the eerie light of whatever magic the forest possessed, Creon’s eyes brimmed with an intensity I could taste, three days of forced distance breaking through his impenetrable shields.
Who he needed, indeed.
‘Creon …’ My voice had thinned to a cobweb whisper. ‘People are looking for me. I can’t … I should …’
He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against mine. Our noses bumped together; his breath brushed over my lips, the rhythm of his shallow exhalations too fast. One hand rested on my hip, the strength of those slender fingers a promise and a reassurance.
‘Creon,’ I breathed again.
