Page 102 of Ashen Wings

He watches me lazily, not speaking, not fighting. There’s so much I beg myself to say, so much I want to pour into existence, but I don’t. I can’t. Maybe I’m a coward. Maybe I can barely contain the pulse booming through me. Regardless, I straighten and meet his gaze head on.

“You should have told me about Roe.”

Good, focus on the mission, on the facts.

“You’re right,” he says plainly.

“I don’t trust you.” My teeth dig into the fleshy part of my cheek.

“You shouldn’t.”

His blunt response steals the next words from my lips. Fuck, this was a mistake. I should have left this alone, but now, like a scab, I’ve picked it enough to draw blood.

“You’re such an asshole,” I whisper.

Jace leans over the doorframe—not crossing it or edging into my space—but his gesture still feels like a challenge.

“And you’re a greedy little starling.”

His eyes blink to my parted lips then to the shirt hanging loosely down my bare breasts. I shift my weight, battling the reaction he draws so easily from me. I don’t pretend to hate his wandering gaze or the seconds they linger on my puckered nipples. He knows I welcome the heat flooding through my system, there’s no sense in denying it.

“Was there something else?” The muscle in his jaw flexes when I lean in, my nipples brushing against his bare chest.

“What happened between us was real,” I whisper.

“Nova…” Growling, low and predatory he reaches through the doorway and tips my chin. “It was real for me, too.”

My heart stops beating. “It was?”

“You really don’t see what power you have over me?” He laughs, almost incredulously, and drags his thumb down my bottom lip. “I haven’t once stopped thinking about that perfect little pussy of yours clenching my fingers.”

Every word I planned out in my head dissipates instantly. My throat dries and my vision dilates. The man has barely touched me, and I’m already combusting. His bold, devilish words root through me, sparking a godsdamn wildfire of need and lust and feral fucking rage.

“You want me to touch you again,” he whispers. Not a question, but a low breathy statement.

All I can manage is a measly nod. Wow, I’m pathetic, but honestly, I’ve found myself right back in his orbit, falling faster than light.

I close the distance between us, but I’m met with a firm hand on my shoulder.

“I meant what I said, though. It can’t happen again. I’m not in control when I’m around you.” His voice is ragged and restrained. “I won’t put you at risk. If I killed you or drained you…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Oh. Well, this isn’t how I expected this conversation to go. My inner walls shudder with unmet need.

“Jace, I—” My skin blazes with newfound embarrassment. Gods this man pulls the worst from me. I’m so pathetic standing before him, with soaked underclothes and scorched flesh.

Of course he puts space between us. His boundary was set and I dared to cross it again. But that agonizing thrill of coaxing him out of the shadows, seeing the monster under his skin, refuses to simmer. My logical sense tells me to run, to hide, to play it safe. But am I not a creature of darkness myself? A reaper? A wraith? A fucking nightmare?

His malice calls to mine.

“Goodnight, Nova,” he says before gently closing the door.

44

“Welcome to Neressa’s sanctuary,” the priestess says, bowing her head.

“Thank you,” Jace replies.

We follow her into the temple and take a seat at one of the various tables scattered throughout the main atrium. My boot scuffs on the cerulean blue tile as I fight the fidget that’s kept me in a chokehold all morning. I refuse to look at Jace.