Page 73 of Wings of Destruction

But I’ve got no interest in her, and I never have. Any stolen embraces in the past, any teasing kisses, came from my father and her family trying to set us up to “join the families.”

What an archaic nightmare.

If I upset her, she’ll whine to her family, who will tell my father.

It will become an issue.

I know if I get close enough, she’ll smell like jasmine and soap. Her skin will be supple and dip underneath the skim of my fingers. I know with a blade in her hand, she’s ruthless.

None of those things matter right now. My focus centers on getting her out without pushing her to anger or tears or a letter home.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Evie drops onto my pillows with a soft sigh, her arms flung wide, her hair a golden halo around her head. “It’s you and me, Kieran. You know we’re meant to be together. Why do you keep putting it off?”

I hate those words especially when they’re strung in the same sentence. Meant to be. Talk about archaic. Romance is nothing but a story ready to die with the first lick of dragon fire. There is no such thing as soulmates, forged in the womb of the Ether itself, designed to be together.

I have no capacity left inside of me for complications like romance or anything comparable.

I force myself off the wall and carefully approach the bed like I’m facing down an angry basilisk ready to climb me like a tree. “Evie.”

“Kieran?”

“You’ve got a crazy notion in your head that now is the right time.”

My mind scrambles for something better to say, something that will alternately let her know there’s no way in the Void I’m sleeping with her but let her down gently. Does such a balance exist?

I bend until we’re eye level and Evie slides onto her opposite side with her head cradled in her hand. The cut of her dress gives me an up close and personal look at what she strategically displays, but I don’t let my gaze stray.

“You’re making a pass at me,” I add in an undertone.

“Is it working?”

“Now isn’t the right time. I think you know it as well as I do.”

I glance at her dress and the way the material hugs her waist, showing off her assets to perfection. The gorgeous buttery yellow also plays off the rich tone of her eyes and deepens the blue to glowing turquoise. Yes, perfection, in every way.

It should matter. It does not.

“Then when will it be the right time?” She creeps closer until our faces are inches from each other. “You are always too busy to make the time.”

Moving away will send her the wrong message. Kissing her will damn me further.

There’s tension in my muscles from holding myself still. It would be easier if I felt attraction.

“I’ll have to let you know. Right now, I’ve had a really long day. I think it’s best if you go.” I rise and hold out a hand. “Please? I’m selfish and I need an hour to myself. You’d be an angel to let me have it.”

There. Make her seem like she’s doing me a favor.

I inject as much kindness as possible into my voice to let her know it’s not a rejection, although it is. Evie is smart enough to recognize there is more at play than what she sees on the surface. Her eyes narrow, but she finally accepts my offered hand and lets me pull her from the bed.

She lands in front of me, tilting her chin up. “Playing hard to get.”

“You’re exquisite, as always, but timing has never been your greatest strength.”

“Selfish, indeed.” Evie clucks her tongue. “An hour with me would be far more… illuminating than whatever brooding you’re planning.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

Smiling, aching to rush her out, I force myself to go slow and maneuver her toward the door. Decorum in all things, right? It’s the only way to play the game and one of the best lessons I learned from my father.