Page 96 of Star Bringer
We kiss until our mouths are bruised. Until our lungs burn for oxygen and our bodies burn for each other. And then we kiss some more.
Eventually, Beckett slides me gently down the cabinet until my feet hit the floor once more. My knees buckle, and she grabs onto me with a little laugh, and I bury my face in her chest as she holds me against her until my legs can once again support my weight.
Only then does she pull away just far enough that she can slide a finger under my chin and tilt my face up to hers. Her cheeks are flushed, her mouth is soft, and her eyes are a warm pool of amber that it feels like I can fall straight into.
I want to fall into them. No, I want to dive into them—into her—and then wrap myself around her and keep her safe from all the terrible tragedies that haunt her.
“You’re sure?” she murmurs, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I know what she’s asking, and I nod—I’m not certain I can speak. Still, I force myself to say the words, because she deserves them. “You know when Merrick was fighting with Ian earlier? I didn’t want Merrick to get hurt, but I also didn’t want him to win.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes soften even more. “You needn’t have worried. Ian would never have honored that particular bet.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Fuck, no.” She smiles gently. “You know if we do this, you’re going to piss a few people off? And not only Merrick. I’m used to that, but I’m guessing you’re not. You can walk away now. I’ll understand.”
Will she? And how could she let me go so easily, when the thought of leaving her is a physical ache inside me? Maybe I was wrong and she doesn’t want me after all. Or not enough.
“Will you?” I ask, and my tone is curt.
Her lips twitch. And I glare, because I don’t see anything funny about this at all.
She laughs and then touches a finger to my cheek. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” she murmurs.
“Is that good or bad?” My voice is still stiff—she hasn’t answered my question yet.
“I don’t know.” She looks away for a moment, and when she glances back at me, the laughter is gone from her eyes. “You’re so…perfect. So kind. And I’m anything but.”
“That’s not true—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Oh, it is. You’re too good for me, and everyone on that bridge knows it. Even I know it, just like I know you’ll be tainted by our association. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s part of the reason why I want you so badly. Because I can’t stand to see someone so good in the world and I want them to turn bad.”
I’m not sure what she even means, but I think she’s wrong. No, I know she’s wrong. “You’re underestimating both of us,” I whisper. “And you’ve got it the wrong way around. You’re not going to turn me bad. We’re going to make each other good.”
She looks shocked—just for a second, and then back to suspicion. “You think you’rethatgood?”
“I know we’re making something good together. Nothing that feels this good can be against the Light’s will.”
“High Priestess,” she mutters under her breath as she shakes her head. “Did I mention the bit where I’ve never met anyone like you?”
I nod.
“Look at me,” she says.
I do. She’s beautiful. Even the darkness in her eyes and the scar that snakes down her neck. I reach up and touch it. Then I trace the dark stain around her yellow eyes, and my fingertips drift over her long lashes. All signs of her heritage, of the life she’s lived up until now.
I want to know everything about her.
“What was it like?” I ask. “Growing up on Permuna, I mean.”
“Hard. Like most places.” Then she gives a shrug. “But not all bad.”
“What do you miss?”
She looks away for a second, remembering. “I miss the desert. In some ways it’s like space—so vast and empty. And I miss the starburst cacti.” She closes her eyes for a moment. “Even thinking about them makes my mouth water.”
“I’ve never tasted one. Maybe you can feed me one someday.”
