Page 105 of The Last Guardian

“Oh, please,” I said, crossing my arms. “Don’t act all weird when someone actually tries to help me, when you are nowhere to be found since yesterday.”

I passed by him. But his hand moved, curling around my arm, yanking me just enough to stop me in my tracks.

Zaidkiel turned me toward him, inching closer until our faces were nearly touching. Our eyes locked, sparks practically flying between us.

“That seems to bother you, not seeing me.” He gave me a wide grin.

Every cell in my body fought the urge to lean against him, his lips only inches from mine.

“Stop letting everything I say inflate that big ego of yours, Commander,” I whispered, my eyes flicking to his lips before darting back to his gaze. “You look like the one who’s obsessed right now.”

“Maybe I am,” Zaidkiel murmured.

His eyes slowly slid down in a delicate, agonizing path to my lips as he rolled his tongue across his lower lip. And everything stilled.

For a moment, the world disappeared, shrinking in darkness, leaving us in the layers of the universe, where stars met embers—lost in a trance only we could break.

His eyes travelled every inch of my face, drinking in the soft torture of this instant. My lips parted slightly, begging to taste him, as his gaze fell on them, tracing them.

Stars, I wanted to break the distance so badly. Every instinct, every cell of my body, begged me to lean into his embrace, to feel the warmth of his lips on mine. To⁠—

His hand rose deliberately to my face, his fingers lingering on the side. The faintest touch of his skin against mine made my breath catch. With one finger, he traced the outline of my lips, slowly, painfully, brushing against them without ever breaking the distance, like he was memorizing them by touch alone, etching them in the core of his skin.

Every heartbeat thudded louder in my chest. His eyes found mine again, grew darker. Deeper, pulling me into his trance.

He leaned closer, the space between us narrowing until I could feel the ghost of his breath against my mouth. His lips parted, welcoming mine⁠—

“Commander.” A throat cleared behind us.

Zaidkiel and I jolted apart, the air between us breaking like glass. The absence of his body against mine froze my skin more than any ice.

Hells, what just happened? My heart couldn’t stop hammering painfully.

Eirlys shot a warning glare at Zaidkiel with ferocity when she emerged from the tent he had come from.

As I drifted my attention to him, whose eyes were still settling on me, what crossed them almost shattered me in half. Zaidkiel looked completely undone, a man who had just fought a battle against all Seven Hells.

Zaidkiel’s gaze fell on Eirlys, a snarl forming on his face, a flash of fury crossing his eyes.

At last, Eirlys turned to me. A sharp smile cut across her red lips. “Highness. I heard your journey had been quite interesting indeed.”

Her carved crescent moon lit in hues of violet and silver. A cold shiver crawled down my spine; a pulling sensation pulsed behind my eyes when she said, “How curious… that after everything you have witnessed, everything you have learned, your deepest fear remains your own h⁠—”

“Don’t. Fucking. Read. Her,” Zaidkiel groaned. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous threat.

With a satisfying look, Eirlys glanced at him. Her crescent moon stopped gleaming, and it felt like I was able to breathe again.

“Remember your place, Commander.” Her eyes turned cold as she prepared to leave. She stopped. Leaning closer to him, Eirlys whispered loud enough for me to hear, “It would be a shame to jeopardize the quest now. If the relic stays dormant and the Last Guardian is never found… you know what must be done.”

Zaidkiel’s eyes turned stone as he looked down at her.

“Enjoy the Rite,” Eirlys said at last and left us.

THE WALK TO the training field was silent. Zaidkiel had not uttered a single word since Eirlys had left with her threat. I had not a single clue about what she had meant, but it shifted Zaidkiel’s mood entirely.

And what happened between us, too.

It had been completely reckless to let us be drawn by our impulse—in the middle of camp no less. I dread how his presence would feel during the Rite. The attraction was far more intense and inescapable when we were in my mind.