“You don’t,” he murmured. “You’re correct. I apologize.”
I pressed my lips together. His eyes dropped to the movement.
“Apology accepted,” I said. His warmth seeped out into the air,instead of against me where it belonged.
“Why did you end your relationship with David?”
I shook my head. “Why does it matter? It’s over.”
“It does,” he insisted. “It matters to me.”
“Why?” I asked.
His fingers dug into my waist and pulled me close, stealing the breath from my lungs.
And then he kissed me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
His lips pressed warm against mine. I drew in a sharp breath at the sudden contact, melting as my body realized what was happening. At my hesitation, he pulled away. I chased his mouth with mine, lifting to my tiptoes to capture his kiss, to make this moment last. I snaked my arm around his neck, burying my hands in his hair, and he gasped. Energy coursed down my limbs as all I could think about was my hunger for him, and his hunger for me. His hands tentatively wrapped tighter around my waist. My heartbeat pounded against my ribcage, and I pressed myself against him.
He tore himself away, panting. I leaned in for more, but he took a small step back.
A giddy headiness flooded my senses.
“I have to know,” Thom said, his voice raspy in a way that sent tingles down my spine. “Why did you cancel your wedding?”
I blinked. “I loved him. But I needed…” My mind raced as I tightened my grip on him. “I needed this. I needed you.”
He gently took my hand from the back of his neck, bringing it in front of him, clasping it with both hands. A breeze wove its waythrough the open air now between us, making me shiver. He lifted one hand to gently rub my chin. Pain sparked in his eyes.
“That’s not the answer I hoped for.”
He dropped my chin.
My nostrils flared. I threw his hands aside. “So I failed your test, did I?”
His eyes widened. “No, that’s not what I—”
“What was all of this? Another one of your experiments? An act of charity for a commoner?” My voice rose, my anger rising like a tidal wave beneath it.
“No, Lyra—”
“How dare you. You look at me, at all of us—me, David, Papa—and you think that we are small. Commoners incapable of making our own decisions. As if because we have little to our name, that we are less. You’ve always thought that.” I shook my head. “From the moment I met you, you have made that clear to me.”
Confusion filled his eyes and I relished it.
“The first time we met was at this pond. My father had died that day. You told me to move.”
He wrinkled his brow. “I don’t remember that.”
I nodded, a bitter laugh falling from my mouth. “You wouldn’t.”
“I swear I don’t—”
“And then Asha,” I went on. “You enjoyed reminding me how poor of a job I’d done as her guardian. How it was my fault she was hurt. How I wasmerelyher aunt.”
“That’s not what I—”
