Page 63 of Black Hearted
His thumb brushed gently across my cheek, his expression filled with concern. “It got your face,” he said softly.
I barely registered his words. My gaze kept drifting to his lips, full and impossibly close.
Kiss him. Kiss him before you die.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, my voice breathless. “I lost my horse, though.”
Zane’s brows furrowed as he nodded. “Me too. They both ran. If this stuff burns through our clothes, we might have to leave. Find another way. Make a new plan.”
I nodded, trying to focus on his words. “Thanks for shielding me, oh brave knight.”
His lips curved into a grin. “When a princess falls off her horse in burning rain, what else is a gentleman to do?”
I smiled back, warmth blooming in my chest. Were we flirting? Whatever it was, it felt good. He felt good.
The grin slipped from his face, replaced by a more serious expression. “Do you want me to move? My cloak’s pretty big. I think we could both sit under it.”
I didn’t want him to move. Ever. The absurd thought made me giggle, and Zane’s frown deepened.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, trying to stifle my laughter. “No, I’m rather liking my personal protective tent. Besides, it seems to be letting up.”
The sound of droplets hitting the leaves above us was slowing. Zane nodded, lifting a corner of his cloak, and scanning the forest before dropping it back into place.
“Do you think this is what the letter meant? That the curse is attacking us? Or does this kind of thing happen here normally?” he asked.
I chewed on my bottom lip, and his eyes flicked down to my mouth, lingering. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But I was thinking about what the Wise Ones warned us about, too. My mother did say these lands are strange and volatile. She told me that, once, when she woke up after spending the night here, the trees weren’t in the same place as they were before.”
Zane’s eyes widened, disbelief clear in his expression. “That’s not possible.”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure what’s really possible in these wilds. But she never said anything about burning rain.”
The rain had finally stopped, but I didn’t want this moment to end. I edged myself a little closer, and as I inhaled, I caught a wonderful scent. Zane smelled like pine, wood bark, and freshly fallen leaves—something I’d never noticed before, something utterly intoxicating. And then one corner of his mouth twitched up.
Kiss him. Kiss him before you drink the vial and die.
My gaze drifted to his mouth. Why shouldn’t I kiss him? He was my mate, after all. He probably wouldn’t complain. The way his eyes lingered on my lips right now said he’d definitely kiss me back.
If you fall in love with him, you won’t want to drink the potion. And the curse will kill everyone.
The sobering thought crashed through me, snapping me back to reality. I tore my eyes from his lush mouth and cleared my throat. “Rain’s stopped,” I said softly.
“Right,” he mumbled, his voice lower than usual. He sat up, taking his warmth and intoxicating scent with him.
I noticed the red welts where the rain had struck his skin. My own wounds itched, but they were already beginning to heal.
I sat up as well, reaching out instinctively to grasp Zane’s face. He froze, his eyes wide as I closed mine, pulling energy from the plants around us and channeling it into him.
“Oh,” he breathed, awe filling his voice as he glanced down at his arms.
The red welts had vanished, but the flowers around us were withered, drained of life.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“You’re welcome,” I said, lowering my hands.
My magic was unique—I could transfer energy from one living form to another, but it always required a sacrifice. That was why I was constantly planting flowers, my quiet penance for taking life from them whenever someone needed healing.
I looked at the withered plants and murmured, “Thank you for your sacrifice.”
