Page 27 of King of Ashes
From a safe distance, I look behind, seeing he hasn’t moved from his spot, looking entirely too assured with his hands in his pockets and a smirk plastered on his face. His unworried stance makes me want to kiss, fuck, and kill him. In no particular order.
I am deep in the forest by the time I hear him running, ducking between any obstacle with the precision of a skilled predator.
Nerves prickle my skin, my rib cage expanding with every greedy gulp of air I suck into my lungs. The chase makes me feel alive, and I haven’t felt like that since I lost my memory. As I keep running toward an elusive freedom, I realize I must protect my heart because I slip with him into something comfortable, even familiar, and it terrifies me. My brain wouldn’t react this vehemently to him if he weren’t a threat. Ever since I proposed the marriage deal, alarm bells haven’t stopped ringing. Whether in warning, caution, or to announce a change eludes me, since I have much more to gain with this alliance than he does. I technically put him in the crosshairs.
The Syndicate and BRACON have waged a silent war for years. While my allegiance is to the former, I have made a name for myself independently, and I dislike someone making me choose.
My foot catches on a twig, a whoosh of air escaping me as I trip, landing on my palms and knees. Pebbles and wood cut intomy flesh, causing scrapes to ooze a faint red. I wipe my palms on my pants to clear the traces of earth and blood, hissing.
He’s right behind me. His speed is something else––a worthy opponent. A man who wraps around my senses, making me want to surrender, bathe in that luxuriant power of his and make it mine.
With my heart beating out of my chest, I crab back, my spine slamming into the bark of a tree. I hold my breath, not getting caught my sole goal. He runs past me but comes to an abrupt stop, sniffing the air. Even blindfolded, he oozes control, defying the elements.
“Fuck, you hurt yourself. I’ll have to punish you for that.”
A mewl mixed with a moan rolls from my lips, and I slap a hand on my mouth. Damn, I am hot for my husband.
I hate my body’s reaction, the arousal so potent it’s like a drug infusing my bloodstream, making me crave him.
Focus, Zara. Gaining back my composure, I make absolutely no noise as I watch him. There might be other animals waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack, but right now he’s the apex predator chasing his prey. No one would dare mess with him.
Dusk creeps through the leaves, silence has befallen the forest, every inhabitant a silent witness to our messed-up foreplay. His chest heaves with labored breaths, reflecting my own disarrayed state. My fingers dig into the earth, not to surrender, but to grasp control that disintegrates the longer he prowls around me. He emanates a raw masculinity I want to luxuriate in.
I should run, but I remain rooted in place to witness his next move. Too late, I notice the smirk before my brain processes what that means for me.
In an instant, he presses his body into mine, caging me between the bark and his chest. He grasps my hands, holding them above my head, trapping me for good.
A stuttered breath tumbles out of my dry mouth.
“Found you,” he says, burying his nose in my neck and breathing me in, the gesture so animalistic and erotic, my legs go weak.
“I let myself be caught.” Losing the game is dangerous, but losing myself to him would be disastrous. “Better luck next time.” With that, I lift my leg and knee him in the balls.
He hunches over, letting out a cough, making me feel bad, but only for a fleeting second. It’s playing unfairly or losing. That would be insulting, considering he’s the one blindfolded.
“Fuck. I’ll take more than a kiss now,” he groans low.
Half aroused, half petrified, I bend down to pick up a log. Swinging my arm back to gather momentum, I propel it as far as I can into the forest. It crashes against a tree, the echo of wood on wood offering me the perfect distraction. I run toward the lake, slowly inching into the water to get him off my trail. This man has had extraordinary training, but water is trickier, and I submerge myself to my chin, observing him.
He’s in the same spot. Damn, my deceptive tactic didn’t work.
Exhaling a breath of frustration, I peer at the rocks forming a small island with a waterfall. In the alcove behind it, I lost my virginity. Right there, I swore my heart to another man and made plans. Though my mind resembles a void, fragments of recollection, however blurry, have surfaced. I guess they meant too much to me to be forgotten for good. Those four years of my life exist more as feeling than knowledge.
I float in the lake, closing my eyes as tears roll down my cheeks, disappearing in the water like an offering.
My first love story was sweet. I think.
My marriage is a battlefield. I know.
I am dragged up by a powerful hand snaking around my neck, and in an instant his firm lips slam on mine, makingme forget everything else. I surrender, too exhausted to keep fighting. With the blindfold on, I ignore who he is and imagine the ghost man, the love of my life.
Like he knows where my thoughts go, he bites into my lip, causing a half moan, half hiss to roll out of my mouth before he licks it, soothing the afflicted skin.
Vian is a force of nature, a hurricane that will destroy one layer after another––unraveling me to my foundation until I am exposed to my rawest form, undone by him.
I kiss him back like he’s my air, and I am starved for oxygen with an increasing desperation I didn’t know I could feel.
He cups the back of my head, bringing us even closer. He’ll never let me go. In this instant, he’s the only thing keeping me sane, tethering me to him and far away from an unforgiving past.
