Page 57 of On Broken Bonds

I don't want her to be afraid. Not of this. Not of me.

My hands tighten slightly on her waist before I force them to relax.

"Nyx," I say quietly.

Her gaze lifts fully to mine. Neither of us moves. Then my eyes drop to her mouth, which is a mistake. A very serious mistake. Because the second I do, I become painfully aware of how much I've wanted this. Her touch.

Not just now. Not just after the magic. For days. Since the training room. Since the feast. Since I first watched her throw herself into a competition she had no business entering because she loved her sister more than she feared dying.

Her expression softens. Hope flickers across her face. And that is my undoing.

Slowly, I slide one hand to the nape of her neck. Firm enough to make my intentions clear. Loose enough that she can stop me if she wants.

She doesn't.

The distance between us disappears. And when our lips meet, it feels like the inevitable conclusion of something that’s been building between us from the moment we met.

The first kiss is soft. Careful. As though neither of us is entirely certain this is happening.

Nyx lets out a small, startled sound against my mouth, her fingers tightening on my shoulders. For a heartbeat, she goes completely still. Then she melts into the kiss.

The response sends a rush of heat through me, edged with danger.

The last traces of hesitation vanish. I deepen the kiss, sliding my hand lower along her back and drawing her securely against my chest.

She trembles, not with fear, but with arousal.

The realization nearly undoes me.

It's been far too long since I've held a woman like this. Far too long since I've wanted to. Most people keep their distance from me. Those who don't rarely stay. Somewhere along the way, I'd stopped missing it.

Stopped thinking about it.

Then Nyx Nocturne came crashing into my life.

Now she's sitting in my lap, kissing me like she means it, and I'm struggling to remember why any of my previous self-imposed restraints seemed reasonable.

For all her stubborn courage, for all the determination she throws at the world, there is still something wonderfully new about this. Something unguarded. Every reaction feels honest, instinctive, as though she's experiencing it as intensely as I am.

A soft sound escapes her, and she presses closer without seeming to realize she's doing it.

My pulse pounds. I'm suddenly aware of everything. The warmth of her body against mine. The way her fingers have found their way into my hair. The scent of her. The feel of her breath when the kiss briefly breaks before she follows me back as though neither of us is ready to let it end.

Gods.

I tighten my hold on her without thinking, drawing her closer. Rubbing her against my painful erection.

For a few reckless moments, the forest disappears. The monsters. The Trials. The danger waiting all around us.

There's only Nyx. Only the warmth of her in my arms and the growing certainty that walking away from this is going to be far more difficult than it should be.

A low growl rolls through the forest. The sound cuts through me like a blade. Reality slams back into place.

Reluctantly, I pull back, my forehead resting against hers as we both struggle to catch our breath. Nyx breathes hard, still sitting in my lap but looking more withdrawn now. The sounds of the forest around us are more like what they might be at home, birds chirping, the soft whistle of the breeze through the foliage.

Perhaps she’s breathing hard from the effort of the illusion. Or perhaps from the kiss.

“How did you do that?” I ask, my voice low, barely audible over the sound of the rustling leaves above us.