From Blood and Ash(61)

“That would be excessive.”

“I was hoping you’d give me just a measly flesh wound,” he added. “But it’d be worth finding out.”

I grinned. “You are such a bad influence.”

“I think we’ve already established that only the bad can be influenced.”

“And I think I already told you that your logic is faulty,” I repeated, closing my eyes as his fingers followed the outline of the sheathed blade.

Another hot, tight shiver curled its way down my spine, and I had the sudden urge to squeeze my legs together. Somehow, I refrained.

I resisted him, despite knowing how I would’ve let him kiss me the night before.

“I’m the Maiden, Hawke,” I reminded him—or myself, I wasn’t sure.

“And I don’t care.”

My eyes flew open in shock. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I did. And I’ll say it again. I don’t care what you are.” Hawke’s hand slid off my back. A moment later, I felt his palm flatten against my cheek with unerring accuracy. “I care about who you are.”

Oh.

Oh, gods.

My chest swelled so fast and full, it was a small miracle that I didn’t float right out of his lap and into the willow. What he’d said…

It had to be the sweetest and most perfect thing anyone could say.

“Why?” I demanded, almost wishing he hadn’t spoken those words. “Why would you say that?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes, I am. It doesn’t make sense.”

“You don’t make sense.”

I hit his shoulder—or chest. Some extremely hard part of him.

Hawke grunted. “Ouch.”

I so did not hit him hard enough for that. “You’re fine.”

“I’m bruised.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I retorted. “And it’s you who makes no sense.”

“I’m the one sitting here being honest. You’re the one hitting me. How do I not make sense?”

“Because this whole thing makes no sense.” Frustration rose swiftly through me, and I started to stand, but the hand on my hip stopped me. Or I let it stop me. I wasn’t sure. And that was even more irritating. “You could be spending time with anyone, Hawke—any number of people you wouldn’t have to hide in a willow tree to be with.”

“And yet, I’m here with you. And before you even begin to think it’s because of my duty to you, it’s not. I could’ve just walked you back to your room and stayed out in the hall.”

“That’s my point. It makes no sense. You can have a slew of willing participants in…whatever this is. It would be easy,” I said. Pretty Britta came to mind. I was sure he’d had her. “You can’t have me. I’m…I’m un-have-able.”

“I’m confident that’s not even a word.”

“That’s not the point. I’m not allowed to do this. Any of this. I shouldn’t have done what I did at the Red Pearl,” I continued. “It doesn’t matter if I want—”

“And you do want.” His whisper danced over my cheek. “What you want is me.”

My breath caught. “That doesn’t matter.”

“What you want should always matter.”

A short, harsh laugh left me. “It doesn’t, and that’s another thing that isn’t the point. You could—”

“I heard you the first time, Princess. You’re right. I could find someone who would be easier.” His fingers traced the line of my mask from my right ear and along my cheek. I had no idea how he could see. “Ladies or Lords in Wait, who aren’t burdened by rules or limitations, who aren’t Maidens I’m sworn to protect. There are a lot of ways I could occupy my time that don’t include explaining in great detail why I’m choosing to be where I am, with whom I choose.”

The corners of my lips started to turn down.

“The thing is,” he went on, “none of them intrigue me. You do.”

You intrigue me.

“It’s really that simple for you?” I asked, wanting to believe him, and also not.

His forehead rested against mine, startling me. “Nothing is ever simple. And when it is, it’s rarely ever worth it.”

“Then why?”

“I’m beginning to believe that’s your favorite question.”

“Maybe.” My lips twitched. “It’s just that…gods, there are a lot of reasons why I don’t understand how you can be this intrigued. You’ve seen me.” My face heated, and I sincerely hoped he couldn’t see it. I hated saying it, but it was a reality. “You’ve seen what I look like—”

“I have, and I think you already know what I think. I said it in front of you, in front of the Duke, and I told you outside the Great Hall—”

“I know what you said, and I’m not bringing up what I look like for you to shower me with compliments. It’s just…” Gods, I wished I hadn’t said anything. I shook my head. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

“I can’t. I won’t.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“You’re just used to assholes like the Duke,” he said, and what sounded like a low growl rumbled from him. “He may be an Ascended, but he’s worthless.”

My heart dropped. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Hawke. You—”

“I’m not afraid to speak the truth. He may be powerful, but he’s just a weak man, who proves his strength by attempting to humiliate those more powerful than he is. Someone like you, with your strength? It makes him feel incompetent—which he is. And your scars? They are a testament to your fortitude. They are proof of what you survived. They are evidence of why you are here when so many twice your age wouldn’t be. They’re not ugly. Far from it. They’re beautiful, Poppy.”

Poppy.

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that,” I said.

“Fourth,” he corrected, and I blinked. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Only your friends and your brother call you that, and you may be the Maiden, and I’m a Royal Guard, but all things considered, I would hope that you and I are friends.”

“We are.” And we were.

His hand flattened against my cheek, and a sigh shuddered through him. “And I’m not…I’m not being a good friend or guard right now. I’m not…” His hand slid, and his fingers curled around the nape of my neck for a few seconds before he slipped his hand away. “I really should get you back to your room. It’s getting late.”

I exhaled raggedly. “It is.”

He was going to take me back—to that room where I was the Maiden, the Chosen. Back to where I wasn’t Poppy but a shadow of a person who wasn’t allowed to experience, need, live, or want. I would no longer be who he saw.

“Hawke?” I whispered, my heart crashing like thunder. “Kiss me. Please.”





Chapter 25





Hawke had gone so still against me that I wasn’t sure if he even took a breath. My request had shocked him—shocked me.

I think I might’ve stopped breathing.

“Gods,” he breathed, and one hand returned to my cheek. “You don’t have to ask me twice, Princess, and you never have to beg.”

Before I had a chance to respond, his lips brushed over mine. I gasped at the soft contact, and I swore I could feel his lips curve against mine in a smile. I wished I could see it because it seemed like a full grin, the kind that lifted both sides of his mouth and made both dimples appear, but then he moved his mouth along mine, painstakingly slow as if he were mapping out the curve of my lips with his. I held completely still, my heart feeling like a trapped butterfly as he retraced the path he’d just made. Tiny shivers hit every part of my body. I trembled as my hands curled into the front of his tunic, no doubt wrinkling the fine material.

This touch was barely a kiss, but gods, the gentleness, the sweetness of it shook me, rattled me to the core.

Then Hawke tilted his head, increasing the pressure, deepening the kiss. Suddenly, everything changed. This kiss—its rawness—left me breathless. Resulted in both of us gasping when we parted, our chests rising and falling quickly. I couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, but I could feel his penetrating stare.

I wasn’t thinking about what I was in those seconds. I wasn’t thinking about what was forbidden and what was right. I wasn’t thinking at all, truth be told, and I didn’t know who moved first. Hawke? Me? Both of us at the very same moment? Our lips touched again, and this time, there was no hesitation. There was just want, so much of it, and a hundred other powerful, forbidden things that pounded through me. His lips scorched mine, heated my blood, and set fire to my senses. His hands moved to my shoulders, sliding down my arms. Hawke shuddered, and a sound emerged from the back of his throat, sort of like a half-growl, half-moan. It sent little shivers of pleasure and panic darting through me as he parted my lips. The hunger behind our kiss should’ve scared me—and maybe it did a little because it felt like too much and not nearly enough all at the same time. I moaned as his hands drifted down my sides. It felt like my body was sparking, igniting—