Page 58 of A Cruel Kindness

Soren’s hand slipped around my midriff, settling low on my stomach. He pulled me back with a soft tug, dragging me away from Carson and to his chest.

Heat started building with concerning force, pooling in every place where Soren’s hard body pressed into mine. There was also some burgeoning hardness building at my lower back, right where his hips were, but that was not something I could focus any energy on, because it made me want to do something really stupid.

How I was possibly expected to sleep in the same bed as him tonight, I had no idea.

“Enough with the threats, princess,” Soren said in my ear. He pressed closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “No matter how much they are turning me on.”

Swallowing was painful, like dragging limbs over gravel.

No one was dropping their guns, even though the initial threat was gone. Now that I had a better view of the pub, there were too many people who looked frazzled and trigger happy for my liking.

Right as I was about to tell everyone to calm down, the bartender walked out from a back room and yelled, “HEY! No guns in my bar!”

Everyone complied immediately in a flurry of muttered sorrys, more concerned with having a place to drink and relax than anything else.

My chest eased slightly, which made my grip on Soren’s arm loosen. I hadn’t even realized I’d folded my arm over his until his skin gave way under my fingers.

I didn’t know what to say next, considering how out of control this conversation had gone. One thing I did know, was that Elijah was very dangerous.

Dangerous enough that he might be the only one capable of accomplishing what needed to be done.

Someone scurried in from outside, blissfully missing the drama. She came right up to Elijah, whispering something in his ear.

His face twitched, before resetting in a passive expression. He straightened, nodding once at me. “If you’ll excuse me, my steed has been rather unpredictable as of late. I trust we’ll be able to continue this conversation?”

I wasn’t sure what conversation he was referring to, but the likelihood he’d seen what I’d slipped into Carson’s shirt was high.

I nodded, even though the thought of what I’d just set in motion terrified me.

Elijah turned on his heel, walking out of the bar with long strides, drawing his soldiers behind him in a single line.

Carson was the last to turn, his face waging a war between emotion and stoicism. He clearly favored the latter, because without another word to Soren, he followed Elijah, choosing Muli once more.

“Well, that was interesting,” Esme said, tipping her head to throw back a glass of whiskey while I tried to wrap my head around what the hell just happened.

♣

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“I feel like you should.”

“Which part?” Soren asked, his voice sliding over my skin in the dark of our room. The first night in this bed, and it was already exactly as terrible as I imagined it would be.

After Elijah and Carson had left the bar, taking a good chunk of Muli soldiers with them, Esme had gently suggested we head back to camp.

I had no problem with that, especially since my heart was racing so fast I felt like I was going to pass out. Or maul Soren in some capacity. Neither seemed productive.

The ride back to camp was silent, if not a little frustrating. Lucky and Clover kept fighting the reins, Lucky trying to bite up small wildflowers and shove them in Clover’s mouth.

If I wasn’t still thinking about the look on Soren’s face when Carson walked into that bar, I might have let myself acknowledge how cute that was.

“You know which part,” I said, staring at the ceiling so I wouldn’t have to look at Soren. I swear, he was like a furnace. I had the urge to cool him down. Preferably with my body.

YES! The Bond shouted happily.

“Actually, I don’t,” Soren drawled. I could hear him turn over to look at me, but I refused to match his movements.