She took another step toward him. “I said, I don’t regret it.”
He gripped the edge of the dresser behind him, his knuckles white.
“Cedric.”
His head snapped up, gold-brown eyes finding hers in an instant.
“I probably should. Regret it, I mean. If being here for the past two weeks has taught me anything, it’s that I should feel very different thanI do about a great number of things. Including you.” She sighed. “But no matter how much my smarter self tries to remind the rest of me that there are far bigger things to worry about, no matter how much I try to distract myself with the mission ahead, I cannot seem to think of anything other than you. It is absolutely infuriating the way you have taken over my thoughts.”
“Yes, it is rather inconvenient, isn’t it?” he mused, and Elyria tried to ignore the way the scar on his upper lip twitched.
“If ever I needed to be able to focus on the mission at hand, it’s now. And I fear I won’t be able to do so with this”—she gestured between the two of them—“lingering unfinished.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You leave tomorrow too.”
Elyria nodded, her throat tight. She had wondered if he’d been informed of that fact. Thought that if he had, maybe he’d have been looking for her. Maybe he’d have wanted to ensure they parted on better terms too.
Her magic roiled in her veins, restless, as if irritated by her hypocrisy.
“You leave tomorrow,” Cedric repeated, “and you didn’t want my final memory of you to be you running away again.”
Elyria’s cheeks heated once more. “I didn’t want that to be the end of it because I—” She threw her hands in the air, shadows leaking from her fingers, trailing up her wrists. “Look, you have your mission, and I have mine. Fully fucking aware that tomorrow we go our separate ways.”
His mouth twisted, like the words, regardless of how true they were, physically pained him to hear.
“But I just—I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t—” Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard. What was she trying to say, exactly?It wasn’t nothing,said the voice inside her head.It meant something. Means more than you could possibly know.
But she couldn’t say any of that. Couldn’t get into it now. Not when they had so little time left.
Elyria cleared her throat, straightened her spine. “I came to say that what happened this morning doesn’t have to be anything more than what it was. Which was nothing, really.” She gave a casual wave of her hand and hoped Cedric couldn’t see the way it shook.
Cedric loosed a ragged exhale. Released his grip on the dresser. Took one slow, careful step toward her. “It wasn’t nothing to me.”
Elyria’s breath hitched. The words hit the air between them and hung there, suspended, shivering. They pressed against her chest, trying to crawl between her ribs. She felt her shadows stretching over her skin, like they wanted to reach for him. “But it doesn’t have to beanything more,” she said. “We have a score to settle, remember? I just want to ensure our slate is even before I go.” She forced her mouth into a devilish grin, tipping it to one side. “It’ll be better for you too, not to be stuck thinking about all thisunresolved business on your way to Elderglade. Let me help you clear your head.”
Cedric’s brows knitted together, frustration flashing across his face. “That’s truly all you want? That’s what this is to you?”
Elyria bit her lip, holding back the truths she was sure would fall out of her mouth if she dared to speak. Instead, she closed the distance between them, her gaze locked on the mark she’d left on his collarbone.
Cedric tracked her approach, but he did not move. Not that there was anywhere for him to go, had he tried—what with the dresser at his back and Elyria to his front.
She didn’t think he wanted to try. She could see it in the set of his jaw, the flex of his hands at his sides, like he was restraining himself from reaching for her.
So, Elyria reached out instead.
Her fingers danced up his chest, brushing over his collarbone. The pad of her finger traced the curve of the bite mark there, and he hissed a breath through his teeth, the sound of it sending a jolt straight through her center.
Cedric’s pupils were wide, the black circles nearly eclipsing the golden rings in his eyes. “You don’t—” His throat bobbed, the motion drawing Elyria’s gaze down the long column of his throat. “You don’t have to do anything.”
Her smile sharpened. “Oh, I’m fully aware of that too.” And with that, she freed the shadows she’d been keeping at bay, releasing them from where they curved around her arms to curl around him instead. She stepped forward, obliterating those final inches between them, pressing her body against his bare torso, his back into the dresser.
Cedric’s hands shot out as if by instinct, grabbing her hips in a bid to steady himself. His skin was hot, heat seeping through the thin fabric of her nightdress. Her shadows flared in response, swirling up his arms in a cooling mist.
He sucked in a long, slow breath, and the heatlessened.
“Elyria...” His voice was something like a warning, a plea—frayed, desperate.
She leaned close, her hands trailing a path down his sides. “Let me,” she said, and this time she might’ve been the one begging.
