She was close enough that he felt her breath across his cheek, and the warmth of it melted his spine, leaving him wobbly on his feet. Clearly he wasn’t thinking straight, ruining the moment with words, yet he couldn’t stop.
“There was a girl at Fairfax who nearly ... Well, as it turns out, it was only by dare that she came close to me to begin with, and, in the end, the fear of being touched by a Caster proved too much for her to follow through. Most people would not regard it as safe.”
Aria was smiling. Not in a mocking way but in an adoring way, her eyes focused on his with such purpose he felt she saw straight through to his soul.
“Baron,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”
He wasn’t fool enough to be told twice.
He sank his fingers into her carefully woven hair and pressed his lips to hers.
His magic—alert since she’d removed his gloves—now woke fully. For the moment, he held it at bay, wanting nothing to distract him from the feel of her lips softening against his, meeting him without fear. The feel of her arms clasping against his back, trying to draw him closer even though there was nospace left between them. He smiled, breaking the kiss for a moment to catch a glimpse of her dark eyes, filled with the same wonder that surely must have reflected in his.
A Caster and a princess. It defied logic. But defiance had always been something of a specialty for Baron, and it had never been more delicious.
Leaning into the kiss again, he wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand too enticed by her bare skin to stay away. His fingertips explored the shape of her jaw, the lobe of her ear, the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. She gave a little sigh at his touch.
Overcoming restraint at last, his magic sang its own praises of Aria. The awareness of his own heartbeat faded as the song of her filled his every sense, tangling magic and truth, pounding like a rhythm he wanted to march to the rest of his life. She smelled like lilacs in summer and like ink in a letter; she tasted like lemon icing and mercy in the dark. He felt the silk of her gown and the urgency of her lips, asking more of him than he’d ever given and, miraculously, treasuring each surrender.
Then her curse reared, a hand silencing a reverberating drum, spilling like a dark stain over what had been a bright awareness.
Baron’s magic screamed warning, and despite himself, he broke the kiss, stepping back in a retreat from the monster inside Aria.
“What’s wrong?” Aria asked, a slight touch of panic in her voice.
Baron swallowed. “The curse. It’s louder than before.”
He hated the despair that shadowed her expression. He could spare her from this, if only he could be strong enough to use his power.
Hehadto use it.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
Without hesitation, her lashes fluttered closed.
She trusted him.
Shetrustedhim.
Baron gently brought his hands to the curve of her jawline once more, brushing one thumb along her cheek. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and listening with magic to the song only he could hear. Her blood was like wine laced with poison, tainted in every drop, so thoroughly mixed he could not hope to find where poison began and Aria ended.
You have to.
He tried to sort the confusion, tried to guide his magic in a way that would isolate the curse, allow him to catch hold of it. But it slipped like a shadow through his fingers. His head began to ache with the effort of it.
They stood in silence, Baron’s back pressed to the wall of the narrow enclosure as surely as it was pressed to the wall in the currently raging battle. The beast inside the girl he loved swallowed his every attack without flinching, and Baron’s mind kept flickering back to his father’s bedside, back to a day of darkness, back to—
Without meaning to, Baron gasped, sweat breaking out across his brow.
“Baron,” Aria said gently. “It’s all right.”
His eyes shot open. “Am I hurting you?”
He was affecting her blood, after all. He’d not considered how it would feel from her side of things. Yet when he tried to step away, she caught his hands tightly in hers.
“It doesn’t hurt. All I feel is tingling. Like kneeling too long and then standing. But you have to know, if you can’t help me, it’s all right.”
He looked away. “How could that ever be all right?”
