“I need you, Noa. Please,” I pant between breaths.
His eyes blink gold at the edges as he holds my gaze while moving to guide himself into me. He enters in one deep thrust, filling me until I cry out, clutching at his shoulders. The world narrows to the slide of his body against mine. Each movement is deliberate, deeper, harder, until I’m arching up to meet him, desperate for more, greedy for the way he makes me burn.
The hearth surges, flames clawing high as his pace quickens, wild now, sweat beading along his temples. His hand finds mine, pinning it above my head, fingers laced tight. The other grips my hip, anchoring me as his mouth claims first one breast and the other, teeth and tongue tugging until my back bows off the sheets.
I shatter once more with him still inside me, heat exploding outward like wildfire, every nerve lit. He follows on the next thrust, groaning my name into the hollow of my neck, hips jerking as his magick bursts uncontrolled. The fire blazes white-hot, then collapses into glowing embers, the room hazy with heat and smoke.
He falls back on the bed as he pulls me onto his chest, breath ragged, heart still thundering beneath my cheek. For a long moment, neither of us speak. The rise and fall of his breathing steadies me, a lullaby against the muffled wind outside. His hand strokes absently over my hair, over the bracelet now glittering on my wrist, and the world feels quiet, safe, whole, while I lie there in his arms.
I’ve only ever felt like this once before. The memory slips in uninvited—silver eyes in the dark, the taste of shadow and skin. I press closer to Noa, as if his heat could chase the ghosts away.
He shifts beneath me as he glances at the now-banked fire with a crooked grin. “Maybe I’m the one who needs grounding lessons.”
I laugh, kissing him.
The inn creaks around us, old wood settling. Snow starts to fall softly against the windows, turning to water the instant it presses against the heated glass.
CHAPTER 34
One misplaced drop in a Corazon potion may not ruin the brew, but it will stir the heart’s blood toward places best left untouched.
—“Emotional Elixirs and Consequence,” Dr. S. Davenport,Journal of Applied Alchemical Sciences
Elesmere is full of familiar faces this weekend. Students from Whittaker trickle in, eager to escape campus for candlelit cafés and slow strolls through the frosted town before the storm hits.
Gavrail is also staying at the Village Inn, sharing a room with Tsvetan and Teo. They wander the streets in their long black coats, lingering outside chocolate shops and other stores like foreign princes half melting into local legend.
We make plans to meet tomorrow morning to search for the book.
This evening, Noa has made reservations at the Old Venetian—a beautiful Italian restaurant with marbled pillarsand linen-covered tables set beneath low-burning chandeliers. Two white stone fireplaces blaze warmth across the space.
We’re being led to a booth tucked into a cozy corner when I glance across the room—and freeze.
I see Gavrail sitting at a small table near the fire.
WithStella.
She’s laughing too loudly, perched far too close, her manicured hand resting on Gavrail’s arm like it belongs there. Her lips are stained a rich berry red, her hair pulled into a perfect knot. She looks like a page torn from a winter fashion spread.
Gavrail sits across from her, his posture too still, carved from stone, his expression impassive. And maddeningly, he isn’t pulling away from her.
Jealousy rises in me like a flash flood—intense, sharp, and entirely unwelcome. My fingers tighten around Noa’s hand, as if grounding myself in him will make it go away.
We pass by them, and I pull closer to Noa. My eyes go hot and tight. I blink once—twice—until I’m steady again, holding a smile in place like a shield.
Noa stiffens ever so slightly.
Gavrail glances up, his eyes catching mine like a spark in dry grass. Silver flares in the candlelight. For a heartbeat, the mask slips—something jagged and unguarded behind it. “Celeste,” he says, voice careful. But I hear what’s buried there: pressure. He shifts slightly in his seat. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“I could say the same.” My tone is light, overly bright. “I hear this is a popular restaurant.”
Stella gives a smile like a cat spotting prey. “We wanted to see the town in the snow—so charming, don’t you think?” Her nails drift down Gavrail’s sleeve, a gesture polished and deliberate. “It’s just so romantic.”
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. But the stillness is toosharp. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s patience… or restraint.
My stomach twists.
Noa clears his throat as he pulls me closer to him. “We were just heading to our table.”
