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The question caught me off guard. “You want me to pray,” I responded. It wasn’t a question.
“You said you were going to both live and pray tonight. Maybe you can’t hear them. But maybe they can hear you.”
My heart quickened at the prospect. What would I say?Please help us win the battle tomorrow?That seemed pointless. But Cal’s expression was so genuine, so intense, so hopeful… How could I deny him?
We dropped to our knees at the edge of the pallet, lowering our heads, folding our hands at our chins and closing our eyes. “Hello,” I said weakly.
Cal laughed, dropping his hands in his lap and turning to look at me. “Hello?That’s how you start a prayer?”
“I mean, I’ve neverreallyprayed before. In my mind, sure. And I sort of prayed when Miles’ arrow wound was infected. But not like this.”
His eyes were full of amusement. “Your parents are the Keepers of the Saints and you’ve never prayed before?”
“Have you prayed toyourparents?” I asked.
He smirked. “My mother was a baker, and it turns out my absent father is anallegedlyimpotent lunatic.” I rolled my eyes as he let out another laugh. “So no, I haven’t prayed to my parents. But I’ve prayed to yours.”
The air in the tent suddenly turned somber as Cal faced forward again, lowering his head. I cleared my throat, unsure of what to say. It felt silly speaking into the silence. I peeked at Cal beside me to see his face was etched in concentration. Despite his joking, he was clinging to this, waiting on my next words.
He’d told me that every battle fought was powered by hope. This, right here, was his hope.
I was his hope.
Deep breath in. “It’s me, Petra,” I spoke into the empty tent. “I can’t hear you anymore, but I’m hoping you can hear me. I’m asking that you help us tomorrow, from wherever you are in the Darkness Beyond. I’m asking that you do whatever you can to help me end the tyranny of the Saint of Pain, because it won’t stop as long as he lives and breathes. Wherever you are, whatever you can do. Just…please.”
I exhaled, letting my hands drop. “To our Saints, we pray,” Cal murmured.
“To our Saints, we pray.”
He stood, offering me a hand and pulling me to him. “We’ve prayed.” He gently pressed his lips to mine, his finger under my chin. “It’s time we live.”
The kiss deepened. I made sure to note the feeling, the taste. His movements were slow and intentional as his tongue began to dance across mine. Hands tangled in hair as I pulled him closer to me, reveling in the glow that built between us.
I was going to die tomorrow. That, I knew for certain. But Cal was right. It was time — the last time — I lived. At the end of the day, I didn’t need my flames or wind or rain or anything holy or divine to live. I neededthis, holy and divine in its own way.
I greedily clawed at the cords of his tunic, but he reached for my wrists, my eyes flying wide in surprise. “I’m going to take my time with you,” he breathed.
“No, I need younow.” I was impatient, and he could tell.
“That’s too bad,” he taunted, a smirk on his face as he watched me try to escape his grip, tongue running over his teeth. “If this is to be my last night alive, I have a few dying wishes that I think you could grant.”
I wrenched my wrists back again, but within seconds he’d pinned me to the bed, arms over my head. Shock pulsed through me, along with something else, something darker. Every nerve stood alert at the intoxicating look with which he stared at me. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was my certain death that hung over me, but I decided I could play this game.
He released me and backed away only to stare down at me, a thumb on his chin as he feigned deep thought. “Huh. Something isn’t quite right here.”
I furrowed my brows, my eyes scanning the room trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. “What?”
“You’re still clothed.” His eyes were on fire, melting me from the inside as he knelt before the pallet, a hand running up my thigh to my hip, teasing over my ribs. “How can I solve that?”
I was panting already, slick with want as his finger drew circles over my belly, my thin tunic the only thing keeping his skin from mine. “Take them off,” I breathed.
He cocked his head. “I feel like there’s a better solution.” His breath was hot on my neck as he leaned in, tongue running from my throat to my ear. I let my hands grapple across his shoulders as goosebumps covered my body. “You take them off.”
My hands paused, a smile coming to my face as he stood and pulled me to him. He fell back to the pallet, expectantly waiting, his lower lip between his teeth.
“Undress for me. My first dying wish.”
My face reddened, but I obeyed. I was going to die, so I wanted to live. My eyes stayed on him as I untied the cords at my neck, letting them hang loose as he watched. “Like this?”
