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SHE’D NO IDEA WHAT had come over her, only that she felt tired of hiding from what she wanted. She’d held back from Enloris and then lost him the moment she’d given in. The old version of her would have used that as an excuse to hold back now, worried again that they would leave, but not this version of her.
Evyn wouldn’t have been surprised to be told her light had healed that part of her. The part of her that felt she didn’t deserve what she wanted, what made her happy, what made her feel good—The part of her that was afraid to be brave and daring with expressing her feelings.
It helped, though, to see that Ferrin seemed to be matching her desire, if she read those hooded lids and flushed cheeks correctly. A memory of kissing Enloris, his eyes just as hooded, flashed through her mind, but she shoved it away. She knew her mind had only conjured it as proof, but she didn’t want Enloris in any part of tonight.
Tonight, she wanted Ferrin.
And if he wanted her too, she was going to savor that, even if it was only for the two of them to overcome their heartaches, and distract themselves from the king’s visit. She deserved to enjoy the things and the people who made her happy, even, and especially, when it wasn’t promised to last.
Ferrin led them down several halls, through the kitchens, and down the stairs to a cellar. As they entered, her eyes widened at the rows and rows of wine bottles and endless casks and barrels.
“Pick your poison,” he said, using his arm to gesture to the cavernous expanse of the room.
She laughed. “I’ll have what you’re having.”
He laughed too, leading her down the stairs by the hand and into the cellar. The air was cold, but dry against her face and caressing the bare skin of her back, the ceilings high enough to carry their voices and sounds of their footsteps.
“Who is it?” she asked.
He almost hesitated, but then he lifted a shoulder slightly. “Otsana.”
Evyn digested the information—she’d had a feeling back in Yamal, but had never outright asked. The tragedy of it still hurt to think about. Even if Otsana didn’t have feelings for Ylid, it still would’ve been one-sided between the two.
“I know,” he said after she’d said nothing for several rows of barrels.
Ferrin squeezed her hand, and then quickened his pace. With the momentum, he turned, pulling her into a twirl, as if they’d been dancing. Her laughter echoed and he grinned, before he led her nearly into a run, their rushed steps joining the dregs of her laughter. He clearly didn’t want to think about Otsana any more than Evyn wanted to think of Enloris, so she’d try not to.
They stopped in front of a wall of dark wood shelves. Wrought iron cradles sat on the shelves, each holding a different bottle, all of them seeming remarkable—magical, even.
“I believe this is a special occasion,” he announced.
Evyn lifted a brow, holding back a smile. “Oh, really?”
“Yes. Tonight, we celebrate,” he said, taking down a bottle of green glass and two silver goblets. He opened the bottle with a pop of cork, and poured a dark liquid into the goblets, before turning to offer her one. “We drink to being able to make it this far, and all that we’ve faced together. Not only mourning our heartbreaks, but celebrating our strength, and how amazing you are.”
Her heart skipped a beat, hand clenching the goblet. “Me?”
He hesitated, before nodding. “Yes. You’ve been through so much, and yet come so far. You gave up all that comforted you to join me on this quest. I am constantly in awe of you. You’re one of the strongest, bravest people I’ve ever known, Evynria.”
He said the last words in a lower voice, almost reverently. She felt her eyes prick with the threat of tears. It was so close to what Xedara had said to her. Her free hand flew to her heart instinctively, and she suddenly thought of the other night, when her hand had clawed at that exact spot in anguish.
“Thank you,” she said softly, then lifted her gaze to lock with his. “I don’t think you understand, though, how grateful I am for you. That you entered my life when you did, and all you’ve done for me since. I’m so deeply grateful to have met you.”
They remained still, as her whispered words hung in the air between them, his still echoing in her mind. The world was quiet save for the sounds of their breaths, but then something flared in his eyes.
Ferrin took a long swig of his drink before setting the goblet down on the stone counter behind him, and then walked towards her. Her heart raced as he drew closer, and then nearly stopped altogether as his hand slipped around the back of her waist where her skin lay bare, shivers running all over her. He pulled her to him, his other hand reaching up to cup around her neck.
“If I’m wrong... If you don’t want this, tell me now, please,” he pleaded, his face a breath from hers, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her mouth and back. “I can grab one of these other bottles and go lick my wounds in private—“
Driven by impulse and desire, Evyn dropped her goblet, the sound clattering and echoing through the cavernous cellar, then pushed up on her tiptoes, connecting their lips in a desperate crush. He moaned deep in his throat and she sighed in pleasure.
All she could think was, finally.
She hadn’t realized how long she’d wanted this—wanted him. Sparks ran through her as their mouths moved against each other, slowly at first and then hungrier and greedier as they went on. His fingers pressed tighter against her back, and then he whirled them so she was pressed against the brick wall. The hand that had been against her neck now cushioned the back of her skull, but when he leaned away just out of her reach, he smiled, his hand coming forward to slide a thumb along the edge of her face.
“By the divine, you’re so beautiful.”
Her body flushed and melted at his words, seeming to fight an inner war of shyness and lust. She looked at his dark eyes that seemed to shine even in the low light of the cellar, his full lips wet and red from their kissing. Pale hair mussed, a few strands hanging delectably on his forehead.
“You’re one to talk,” she said, smiling back.
He chuckled and then kissed her again, deeply, his hand sliding back to cradle her skull, protecting it from the wall, while the other pushed her body closer to his. He felt amazing against her, the pressure lighting sensations all over her body. His mouth slipped to her jaw, and to her neck. Her breath caught.
She cursed as his mouth journeyed back to hers and she felt him smile against her jaw. “I could kiss you until the sun vanished entirely.”
“Evynria,” he said against her mouth, nipping her lower lip, his voice full of warning. “You keep saying things like that and I’ll fall in love with you.”
She froze, leaning back to meet his gaze. He looked back at her defiantly with one brow raised, almost daring her to take his heart. The heart she’d seen break earlier as Otsana held Ylid’s hand.
Instead of saying anything, she leaned forward, eyes still on his till the very last moment when she pressed her lips to his gently, letting them move slowly, caressing their noses against one another’s. She lifted her hands to hold his face and his arms looped around her fully, one reaching between her shoulder blades so his fingertips grazed the back of her head.
She leaned back again and whispered, “I know our hearts are still healing... but just know... that I can’t see how being loved by you could ever be a threat.”
“Evyn,” he said, his voice sounding pained, squeezing his eyes shut. When they opened again, his gaze burned into her. “I need you. All of you. Please.”
She noticed then, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing through the velvet of her skirts, and her heart skipped a beat, face warming. Her mind raced with indecision and worry, so she took a deep breath.
“I... I need you too,” she said, her voice sounding far more desperate than she intended, but it felt honest, mirroring the desire she felt pooling between her legs. “But I... It’s been a long time and I’m afraid I’m not the most experienced despite my age—Not completely inexperienced, but...”
He kissed her cheek, then just below her eye, and then closer to her ear, reaching further back to her earlobe. She could hear his uneven breath and the sound seduced her almost more than his kisses had, to know she’d driven him to this state.
“We’ll take it slow,” he said, his voice deeper, rasping. “We’ve got all day and all night if you desire.”