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He jutted his chin out. “Again.”
The Artista inside of me woke up, and my skin burned. The scars, which had screamed at me for several days, were quiet.
I held up my hand slowly. Then I cupped the back of his neck. The times I’d been in control were few and far between. But now, as he looked at me, challenging me, the timid part of me faded away.
When I pulled his mouth to mine, it was not shy, and I did not miss.
Our bodies pressed against each other as the heat between us intensified. Antonio came alive under my touch, and his hands were everywhere, exploring my body with an urgency that made me moan into his mouth. I was lost in the sensation of him, and all the doubts swirling in my mind melted away. At that moment, I knew I wanted him, and I wanted him more than anything I had ever wanted.
But this wasn’t love. This was pure desire.
When his tongue glided against my collarbone, my knees gave out. His hands slid under the backs of my legs in one swift motion, and he carried me to the bed. The man who was supposed to be my mentor laid me down gently before joining me on the soft covers. His mouth found mine again, the kiss deep and hungry while his body covered mine.
Out of instinct—thank goodness—my hands roamed over his body as if trying to memorize every inch of him. Antonio’s hands were just as eager, sliding up and down my sides, over my hips, and under my shirt. The heat between us was almost unbearable, and my mind was consumed by nothing but him.
I wanted everything from him then, and he seemed to want the same. His teeth grazed my neck, and I arched up into him, making an embarrassing sound. I might have shrunk away if I wasn’t already flushed from his heat.
“Carmen,” Antonio groaned against my throat.
I froze. My eyes opened, and I saw a ceiling that did not belong to my roof.
What was I doing?
I sat up, pushing Antonio’s solid weight off of me. After dragging a hand over my sweaty forehead to help get the messy curls out of my eyes.
“We can’t do this,” I panted before vaulting off the bed.
“Wait,” Antonio said.
I shook my head. “We never called a truce.”
Antonio laughed. “You can't be serious. You wanted this, and I wanted this. Stop—”
I reached the door and ran outside. It was a much shorter distance to my room on the way back than it had been coming. When I closed the door behind me, I found Magda still asleep.
My breath was still coming too quickly, and I stayed there, pressed to the door for several minutes. A part of me hoped Antonio would barge in and carry me back to his bed, but he didn’t.
After a while longer, I crossed to the bed and climbed in next to Magda. She barely stirred, which was typical for her.
I closed my eyes and waited for sleep.
Chapter20
All Quiet On The Bus
The Trabajadores must’ve gone without sleep last night. The center of the city, where I had danced, was cleaned and polished as if a night of festivities hadn’t just taken place the night before.
I sat between Isabela and Santiago. We were all bundled up and packed into the chilly theater to watch Canciller Duarte speak to us before the tournament began in an hour. The air buzzed with anticipation, the electric hum of excitement mixed with an undercurrent of mourning. Flags of vibrant hues fluttered above me, one for each isle, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the ground as the sun shone through them and they danced in the wind. My heart pounded in my chest, matching the rhythm of the drums accompanying the opening ceremony.
"Welcome, competitors and citizens!" Canciller Duarte's voice boomed over the crowd, commanding attention. "We gather here today to honor the brave new generation who will fight for survival and claim glory in the Blood Tournament. Esteemed Candidates,” he paused, “as you prepare to embark on this harrowing journey, I want to remind you of the stakes at hand. You have been chosen to represent your villages, your families, and your very lives in this most prestigious event, one that will determine the fate of our beloved nation."
The words rang hollow in the crisp air, their lofty tone mocking the violence and death ahead. My heart clenched at the thought of what we had all given up—willingly or not—to stand here on the precipice of life-threatening danger.
"Never forget," the Canciller continued, "that you are the best of the best, the future leaders of our land. Your strength, your courage, and your determination will be tested at every turn as you race to be the first to reach the base of La Doncella."
"Two days," I reminded myself, my fingers tightening around the straps of my pack. "I have just two days to outwit, outrun, and outlast Isaac and everyone else." The task seemed insurmountable, but I refused to let despair take hold.
Canciller Duarte’s wife was hidden again today. I was sure to check.
