Hawke had gone so still against me that I wasn’t sure if he even took a breath. My request had shocked him—shocked me.
I think I might’ve stopped breathing.
“Gods,” he breathed, and one hand returned to my cheek. “You don’t have to ask me twice, Princess, and you never have to beg.”
Before I had a chance to respond, his lips brushed over mine. I gasped at the soft contact, and I swore I could feel his lips curve against mine in a smile. I wished I could see it because it seemed like a full grin, the kind that lifted both sides of his mouth and made both dimples appear, but then he moved his mouth along mine, painstakingly slow as if he were mapping out the curve of my lips with his. I held completely still, my heart feeling like a trapped butterfly as he retraced the path he’d just made. Tiny shivers hit every part of my body. I trembled as my hands curled into the front of his tunic, no doubt wrinkling the fine material.
This touch was barely a kiss, but gods, the gentleness, the sweetness of it shook me, rattled me to the core.
Then Hawke tilted his head, increasing the pressure, deepening the kiss. Suddenly, everything changed. This kiss—its rawness—left me breathless. Resulted in both of us gasping when we parted, our chests rising and falling quickly. I couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, but I could feel his penetrating stare.
I wasn’t thinking about what I was in those seconds. I wasn’t thinking about what was forbidden and what was right. I wasn’t thinking at all, truth be told, and I didn’t know who moved first. Hawke? Me? Both of us at the very same moment? Our lips touched again, and this time, there was no hesitation. There was just want, so much of it, and a hundred other powerful, forbidden things that pounded through me. His lips scorched mine, heated my blood, and set fire to my senses. His hands moved to my shoulders, sliding down my arms. Hawke shuddered, and a sound emerged
from the back of his throat, sort of like a half-growl, half-moan. It sent little shivers of pleasure and panic darting through me as he parted my lips. The hunger behind our kiss should’ve scared me—and maybe it did a little because it felt like too much and not nearly enough all at the same time. I moaned as his hands drifted down my sides. It felt like my body was sparking, igniting—
He gripped my waist, lifting me and settling me again so my knees fell to either side of his hips with me pressed against him. His breeches and my gown served as no real barrier. I could feel him, and I shuddered as a sharp, pulsing ache throbbed through me. His answering moan, another deep, rough sound, shattered whatever hesitancy I had. I placed my hands on his chest, marveling at the way his body jerked as I slid them up over his shoulders and then around his neck. I did then what I wished I’d done at the Red Pearl. I sank my fingers into his hair, and the strands were as soft as I’d thought they would be. No other part of him felt that way. He was all hard heat against me.
Hawke’s arms moved around me, pulling me so tightly against him that there was barely any space between us. He kissed me again, kept kissing me, and I knew this was more than a kiss. It went beyond that, beyond how he felt and how he made me feel.
His words had touched the deepest part of me, and it was thrilling. I felt alive, like I was finally waking up.
And I never wanted it to stop.
Not with the rush of sensations flowing through me. I knew in the back of my mind that I’d lost control of my gift. My shields were wide open, and there was no way to tell if what I felt belonged to him or me or both of us.
Instinct took over, guiding my body—my hips to push and roll—and he shuddered again, catching my bottom lip between his. He grabbed fistfuls of the skirt of my gown, lifting until his hands touched my calves. A tremor went through me like lightning.
“Remember,” he said against my lips as his palms glided up to the curve of my knees. “Anything you don’t like, say the word, and I’ll stop.”
I nodded, seeking his mouth in the darkness. When I found him, I wondered how I’d made it this long without kissing him again.
I wondered how I could go on without doing it more.
That thought threatened to dampen the heat, but his hands were moving again, skimming over my skin and sending a rush of heated blood
to every part of my body. I shifted forward until our hips were melded together. I moved. We moved. And I thought I whispered his name before I kissed him again, slipping my tongue between his lips, against his teeth—
Hawke jerked his head back, panting as he rested his forehead against mine. “Poppy,” he said in a way that made my name sound like both a prayer and a curse.
“Yes?” My fingers opened and closed around the silky softness of his
hair.
“That was the fifth time I’ve said your name, in case you’re still
keeping track.”
I grinned. “I am.”
“Good.” He slipped his hands out from under my gown, and one of them found its way to my cheek. He traced the edge of my mask, surprising me yet again with his sight. “I don’t think I was being honest a few moments ago.”
“About what?” I loosened my grip on his hair, lowering my hands to his shoulders.
“About stopping,” he admitted quietly, drawing his fingers down my cheek and over my jaw. “I would stop, but I don’t think you would stop me.”
“I’m not exactly understanding what you’re saying.” I let my eyes close. Despite being confused by his words and the fact that we weren’t kissing, I liked the intimacy of how close we were, how his head rested against mine.
He drew the tips of his fingers down the side of my neck. “Do you want me to be blunt?”
“I always want you to be honest.”
My senses were still open. I knew that because I felt a foreign sensation coming through the connection, but it was too brief for me to figure out what it was.
And then he kissed my temple, and I thought about the odd, ashy feeling that had coated my throat. “I was seconds from taking you to the ground and becoming a very, very bad guard.”
Air caught in my throat as a pulse of warm heat went straight through me. I didn’t know a lot, but I knew enough to know what he meant. “Really?”
“Really,” he answered seriously.
I should’ve felt relief that he’d stopped, and I did. But I also didn’t.
What I felt was a confusing mess. But I knew one thing for sure.
“I don’t think I would’ve stopped you,” I whispered. I would’ve let him take me to the ground, and I would’ve welcomed what he did, consequences be damned.
Hawke’s body shook as he moaned. “You’re not helping.” “I’m a bad Maiden.”
“No.” He kissed my other temple. “You’re a perfectly normal girl. What is expected of you is what’s bad.” He paused. “And, yes, you’re also a very bad Maiden.”
Instead of being offended—because there was no way, even if I didn’t count tonight, that I could deny that—I laughed and was rewarded by his arm coming back around me. Hawke pulled me back to his body, sliding his hand to my nape. I settled my cheek against his shoulder as his grip briefly tightened, and then his fingers moved, working the muscles of my neck. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed there like that, quiet and hidden away under the willow, but I did know that it was far past the point where my blood had cooled, and my heart had slowed. I didn’t move then, and neither did Hawke. I thought that maybe…maybe being held like this, so close and so tight, felt just as good as the kissing and the touching.
Perhaps even better, but in a different way.
But it was getting late, and unsurprisingly, Hawke was the responsible one. He kissed the crown of my head, causing my heart to squeeze in a way that was so sweet, it was almost painful.
“I need to get you back, Princess.” “I know.” But still, I held onto him.
He chuckled, and I grinned into his shoulder. “You have to let me go, though.”
“I know.” I sighed, yet I remained where I was, thinking that the moment we stepped outside of the willow, we would be back in the real world, no longer in our haven where I was Poppy, and who I was mattered. “I don’t want to.”
He was silent for so long that I feared that I’d said the wrong thing, but then his arm tightened around me again. When he spoke, his voice was strangely rough. “Neither do I.”
I almost asked why we had to, but I managed to stop myself. Hawke stood then, taking me with him, and I reluctantly lowered my legs. We
stood there for another all-too-short moment, his arm around me, my arms stretched above me, and our bodies still connected.
Then I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and took a step back. I couldn’t see him, but I wasn’t surprised when his hand found mine, and he led me toward the willow branches.
He stopped. “Ready?”
Not at all, but I said yes, and we walked out from underneath the willow, my chest threatening to become heavy. I refused to let that happen. At least not right this moment. I had all night for everything I felt to become memories.
I had many nights ahead for that.
We found our way back to the gas-lamp-lit walkway, the garden silent except for the sound of the wind and our steps. I looked down the shadowy paths, wondering what had happened to the hushed conversations and soft moans. We rounded the corner, nearing the fountain—
And came face to face with Vikter, sans mask.
My heart lurched in my chest as I stumbled back a step. Hawke turned as if to catch me, but I gained my footing. “Oh, my gods,” I whispered, looking up at Vikter. “You about gave me a heart attack.”
He stared at me for a long moment and then turned to Hawke. A muscle in his jaw clenched as he looked down to where Hawke still held my hand.
Oh, shit.
Slowly, Vikter looked up while I tried to pull my hand free. Hawke held on for a moment and then let go. I clasped my hands together, my eyes wide behind my mask.
“It’s time to go back to your room, Maiden.” Vikter bit out, voice low. I winced at his tone.
“I was in the process of escorting Penellaphe back to her room,” Hawke replied.
Vikter’s head snapped in his direction. “I know exactly what you were in the process of doing.”
My mouth dropped open. “Doubtful,” Hawke murmured.
Which was the wrong thing to say. “You think I don’t know?” Vikter stepped into Hawke’s space, and while Hawke was an inch or two taller, they were eye to eye. “It only takes one look at both of you to know.”
One look at both of us? Blinking, I lifted my fingers to my lips that were still humming and felt puffy. My gaze flew to Hawke’s mouth. His lips did look swollen.
Hawke held his ground and Vikter’s stare, and I really had no idea what he could say. “Nothing happened, Vikter.”
Well…
“Nothing?” Vikter snarled. “Boy, I may have been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.”
I blinked.
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” Hawke retorted. “But you’re stepping way over the line.”
“I am?” Vikter laughed, but there was no humor to the sound. “Do you understand what she is?” he demanded, voice so low it was barely audible. “Do you even understand what you could’ve caused if anyone other than I had come upon you two?”
I stepped forward. “Vikter—”
“I know exactly who she is,” Hawke shot back. “Not what she is. Maybe you’ve forgotten that she’s not just a godsdamn inanimate object whose only purpose is to serve a kingdom, but I haven’t.”
“Hawke.” I whirled on him.
“Oh, yeah, that’s rich, coming from you. How do you see her, Hawke?” Vikter stepped in more. Suddenly, they were as close as Hawke and I had been under the willow. “Another notch in your bedpost?”
I gasped, spinning back around. “Vikter.”
“Is it because she’s the ultimate challenge?” Vikter continued, and my lips parted.
Hawke’s chin dipped. “I get that you’re protective of her. I understand that. But I’ll tell you just one more time, you’re way out of line.”
“And I’ll promise you this…it will be over my dead body before you spend another moment alone with her.”
Hawke smiled then, one side of his lips curling up. There was no dimple. His features seemed to sharpen in the moonlight, creating shadows under his eyes and on his cheekbones. “She thinks of you as a father,” he said, his voice so soft it sent a chill down my spine. “It would hurt her greatly if something unfortunate were to happen to you.”
“Is that a threat?” Vikter’s brows lifted.
“I’m just letting you know that is the only reason I’m not making your promise come true this very second,” he warned. “But you need to step back. If you don’t, someone is going to get hurt, and that someone won’t be me. Then Poppy will get upset”—he turned to me—“and that’s the sixth time I’ve said it,” he added, and all I could do was stare at him. “I don’t want to see her upset, so step. The fuck. Back.”
“Both of you need to stop,” I whispered, grabbing Vikter’s arm, but he didn’t budge. “Seriously. This is escalating over nothing. Please.”
They didn’t look away from each other, and it was almost like I wasn’t there. Finally, Vikter stepped back. I didn’t know if he saw something in Hawke’s face, or if it was me tugging on his arm, but he took another step away, his skin unusually pale in the moonlight.
“I’ll be guarding her for the rest of the evening,” Vikter stated. “You’re dismissed.”
Hawke smirked, and I shot him a glare he didn’t even seem to notice. He said nothing as Vikter took my arm and turned. I went with him, having taken only a couple of steps before I looked over my shoulder.
The space where Hawke had stood was empty.
I looked around quickly, not seeing him. Where had he—?
“I don’t even know what to say to you right now,” Vikter stated. “Gods. After I finished talking to the Commander, I couldn’t find you, but I ran into Tawny. She said you returned to your room. I went to check on you, and when you weren’t there, I figured you could be here. But I did not expect to find this.”
It seemed as if he knew exactly what he wanted to say.
“Dammit, Poppy, you know better than this. You know what’s at risk, and I’m not talking about the fucking kingdom.”
Hearing him curse caught my attention. I looked up as he stalked along, bringing me with him.
“If anyone had seen you with him, missing a few days of training would’ve been the least of my fears,” he went on, and my stomach dropped. “And Hawke knows better. Dammit, he never should’ve laid a hand—”
“Nothing happened, Vikter.”
“Bullshit, Poppy. You looked like you’d been thoroughly kissed. I hope that was all.”
“Oh, my gods,” I exclaimed, my face flaming. “Don’t lie to me.”
“We were coming back in to go to my room—”
Vikter stopped, looking down at me with wide eyes and lifted eyebrows.
“Not what you’re thinking,” I insisted, and that was the truth. “Please. Just let me explain what happened,” I said, desperately trying to figure out how to fix this.
“I don’t think I want to know.”
I ignored that. “After you left to speak to the Commander, I felt bad because Tawny wouldn’t leave my side. I knew that as long as I stayed at the Rite, she would feel as if she had to stay with me. So, I told her I was going back to my room so she could have fun.”
“That doesn’t explain how you ended up out here with him.”
“I was getting to that,” I said, trying to be patient. “Hawke knew I didn’t want to go back to my room, and he knew how much I used to love the gardens. So, he brought me out so I could…so I could get past what happened here with Rylan. That’s why we were out here.”
“I feel like you’re leaving a lot out.”
At this point, I knew I couldn’t continue lying, at least not about everything. “We walked around, and Hawke showed me a place he enjoyed in the garden. I…I asked him to kiss me.”
Vikter looked away, jaw locking.
“And we did kiss. Okay? It happened, but that was all. He stopped it before it went any further,” I told him, speaking the truth. “I know I shouldn’t have asked him—”
“He shouldn’t have been so willing to oblige you.” “That’s not the point.”
“That is the point, Poppy.”
“No, it’s not.” I pulled my arm free, closing my hands into fists before I picked something up and threw it. “He’s not the damn point!”
Shock flickered over his face.
I made an effort to lower my voice. “This whole stupid thing is the point. The fact that I can’t do anything is the point. That I can’t have one night to do something normal and fun and enjoyable. That I can’t experience anything without being warned to remember what I am. That every privilege you have, and Tawny has, and everyone else has, I don’t have.” My voice cracked as the back of my throat started to burn. “I have nothing.”
His expression softened. “Poppy—”
“No.” I took a step back, his features blurring. “You don’t understand. I can’t celebrate my birthdays because that’s ungodly. I’m not allowed to go to picnics at the Grove or to supper with others because I’m the Maiden. I’m not allowed to defend myself because that would be unseemly. I don’t even know how to ride a horse. Nearly every book is forbidden to me. I can’t socialize or make friends because my sole purpose is to serve the kingdom by going to the gods—something no one will even explain. What does that actually mean?”
Breathing heavily, I tried to rein my emotions back in, but I couldn’t. Something in me snapped, broke wide-open, and I couldn’t stop. “I don’t even know if I’ll have a future beyond my Ascension. In less than a year or even sooner, I may lose every chance I have to do everything everyone else takes for granted. I have no life, Vikter. Nothing.”
“Poppy,” he whispered.
“Everything has been taken from me—my free will, my choice, my future—and I still have to suffer through the Duke’s lessons,” I spat out, shuddering. “I still have to stand there and let him hit me. Let him look at me and touch me! Do whatever he or the Lord wants—” Sucking in a fiery, painful breath, I lifted my hands, grabbing fistfuls of my hair, pulling them back as Vikter closed his eyes. “I have to stand there and take it. I can’t even scream or cry. I can do nothing. So I’m sorry that choosing something that I want for myself is such a disappointment to you, the kingdom, everyone else, and the gods. Where is the honor in being the Maiden? What exactly should I be proud of? Who would want this? Point me in their direction, and I’ll gladly switch places with them. It should be no shock that I want to be found unworthy.”
The moment those words left my mouth, I smacked my hands over my lips. Vikter’s eyes snapped open, and for a long moment, we stared at one another, the truth a double-edged sword between us.
“Poppy.” Vikter looked around and then reached for me. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
I danced out of his reach, curling my fingers against my mouth. It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t going to be all right. I’d said it. The truth. Out loud. Heart thumping and stomach churning, I turned and started walking toward the castle. I thought I might be sick. “I want to go back to my chambers,” I
whispered, lowering my hands. Vikter started to speak. “Please. I just want to go back to my room.”
He didn’t respond, thank the gods, but he followed directly behind me. All I could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other. If I didn’t, the angry, messy, and violent ball of emotion lodged in my throat would erupt. I would erupt. That was how I felt. I would explode everywhere in a shower of sparks and flames, and I didn’t care what I looked like when we entered the hall and moved into the light, or what people saw if they looked at me and realized that I was the Maiden. My entire body was trembling with the force to keep—
A loud, cracking sound reminding me of wood splintering drew us to a halt. We turned to the Great Hall just as a shout sounded, followed by screams—piercing screams, one after another. My heart dropped.
Someone—a Lady in Wait—backed out of the Great Hall, her red gown fluttering around her feet as she pressed her hands to her mouth.
Vikter started toward the entryway but stopped. He turned to me, and I knew he was going to take me back to my room, but the screams kept coming, followed by shouts of panic and horror. Another joined the Lady in Wait. Then another, a servant carrying an empty tray. He turned and vomited.
“What happened?” I demanded, but no one answered. No one could hear me over the screams. My wide gaze met Vikter’s. “Tawny is in there.”
The set to his jaw said that he couldn’t care less. He moved to grab me, but I was fast because he’d taught me how to be when I needed speed. I evaded his reach as I raced for the entryway, his muttered curse ringing in my ears.
A rush of people came out of the entryway, knocking into my shoulder. A blur of masked faces came from every direction. I was thrust to the side, my slippered feet slipping on the polished floors, but I pushed forward. Tawny was still in there. That was all I could think as I broke through the panicked crowd.
I slid to a stop, my gaze landing on the dais, to what was behind the dais. “Oh, my gods,” I whispered.
I knew what had made the cracking sound. One of the wooden rods that held the heavy banners had cracked. The Rite banner had fallen, pooling on the floor of the dais, but red still streaked the wall.
I saw what had broken the rod, what hung from the remaining one. Rope stretched arms outward, and so much red streaked pale skin. I knew who it was. I knew why the Duchess stood in the center of the Great Hall, her arms at her sides, and why everyone else was frozen in shock. It was the hair so blond that it almost looked white.
It was the Duke.
Even from where I stood, I knew what had been shoved into his chest
—through his heart. I would recognize it anywhere.
It was the cane he’d lashed me with.
And above him, written in red—in blood—was the mark of the Dark
One.
From Blood and Ash…. We Will Rise.
