Page 36 of The Incendiary

I wanted her body like my next breath, but it was her trust, her warmth, and her good that I needed. To see every vulnerable piece, have all of her, and then meld her together with safety and pleasure into something stronger, so that nobody else could have or touch or hurt her ever again.

Her fingers on my bare abdomen sent a wave of heat to my groin. I cursed under my breath and dragged my mouth away.

“Gavin?” she whispered through swollen lips, her eyes worried and face flushed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You’re perfect. But we should stop.” If we didn’t, I would either bust in my pants or lose control, hike up her dress, and fuck her against the library wall until she saw stars and screamed my name. She deserved infinitely better than that, especially for her first time, and she wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure I was ready for what satisfying that connection would do to us both.

I was on the brink of insanity already.

“You are a gift, Ella. You deserve better than a dark corner of the library.” I cupped her face and kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “You deserve everything.”

I knew the vow I needed to make to have all of her. There were two silver rings inside my bedside table. One large, one small. I’d made them the same night I made her dagger. I wouldn’t let her give herself to me until she wore hers. I was no saint, but for her, I wouldn’t allow anything less.

“Thank you,” she whispered. My heart soared at the gratitude in her gaze. How could so much good exist inside one small body? Surely, this was as close to salvation as I’d ever get.

“For what?” I asked her, wondering what she could possibly have to thank me for.

“You just gave me my first kiss. In a library,” she giggled. “I’ll never forget it.”

She lifted on her toes and touched her lips to mine, soft and gentle. Not greedy. Just a silent request for one more taste, which I gladly gave her.

“My Ella,” I whispered. My heaven. “Mine.”

She looked up, brow creased in an adorable display of awe and worry. “I really don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Our foreheads touched. I closed my eyes, resting in her warm presence while whispering, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

ELEVEN

ARYELLA

I’ve slaughtered so many innocents. It isn’t the sight of their bodies that haunts me. Once they’re gone, so is their pain. What haunts me is the terror in their eyes during those final moments, and knowing I’m the one who put it there.

—FROM THE BUTCHER OF NYRIDA’S LAST KNOWN LETTERS TO QUEEN ARYELLA I

Two men dragged me out of my cell. After a week of darkness, the sun’s rays were brutal and blinding. I covered my eyes with my forearm, wishing my power was strong enough to dim the sun myself. When my eyes adjusted, I saw young people strolling about in droves. The gravel courtyard—quiet and empty a week ago—was now bustling and loud with excited chatter that galvanized the fresh spring air. I let it cool and expand my lungs, grateful to be out of a musty cell.

“Captain Hoss!” shouted one of my escorts. I followed his gaze to the statuesque captain with thick black locks. Shera told me that she overheard Elias call her Valda. She conversed with a young man who looked just like her. A stunning smile brightened her previously contemptuous features. When she turned, the sight of me extinguished her warm smile.

She bid the young man farewell and strode over. “Why is she out of her cell, Lieutenant?”

“She’s to participate in Commencement. Commander Winterton wants her integrated with the rest.”

With a tired sigh, she looked me up and down. “Of course he does.”

“She’ll be alone, though,” the lieutenant muttered. “No team to help her. Notice was given to all trainees the moment they entered the Barracks.”

Valda lifted an intrigued brow. “Hmm. All right. I’ll take it from here, then.”

The guards released me and thrust my bag into my chest. Passersby slowed to assess me with inquisitive eyes, but Valda strode away on long legs, giving me no time to feel self-conscious.

She led me to one of the cabins. Inside, four tables surrounded by benches and chairs marked the center of the room. Wooden bunk beds with plain canvas-brown bedding lined three out of the four walls. Above each set of bunks were rectangular cross-hatched windows. Those, along with the skylight built into the tall, peaked ceiling, illuminated the room in pleasant, natural light.

The floor squeaked beneath my boots as I passed by Valda into the room. She scowled at the scent of me, as if she hadn’t ordered me to be in a cell for a week. “Showers are three buildings to the south. Use one. Pick your bunk and drop your things. If I were you, I’d go up.” She nodded toward a top bunk. “Men tend to prefer the bottom bunk.”

“I’d prefer a bed with an easier escape,” I retorted.

“We are civilized people,” she said with a chuckle. “Cadets aren’t allowed to kill other cadets. You’ll be fine.” Amusement danced in her umber eyes when she added, “Probably.”