I didn’t think I’d ever been this cold before.
The bedroll did nothing to stop the chill from seeping up from the ground, and the blanket, as heavy as the fur was, couldn’t fight back the iciness in the air. My fingers felt like ice cubes inside my gloves, and no amount of shivering warmed my skin.
It had to be at least twenty degrees cooler at night inside the Blood Forest, and I imagined if it rained, it would turn to snow here.
For the last twenty or so minutes, I’d tried to will myself asleep. Because if I were unconscious, I wouldn’t be so worried about turning into a chunk of ice. But every crunch of grass and stir of wind had my hand going to the dagger stowed under the bag I was using for a pillow. Between the cold, the possibility of free-roaming barrats, and the threat of a Craven attack, there was no way I was getting any asleep tonight. I didn’t know how anyone would. I’d barely been able to eat any of the food during our quick, quiet supper.
Four guards slept. Four guards stood watch several yards away, one at each corner of the camp. Hawke had been speaking to one of them, but now he was striding toward me. A tiny part of me thought I should pretend to be asleep, but I had a feeling he’d know.
Stopping in front of me, Hawke knelt. “You’re cold.” “I’m fine,” I muttered, teeth chattering.
A moment later, I felt his ungloved fingers brush my cheek. I tensed. “Correction. You’re freezing.”
“I’ll warm up.” I hoped. “Eventually.”
He let his hand dangle between his knees. “You’re not used to this kind of cold, Poppy.”
“And you are?”
“You have no idea what I’m used to.”
That was true. I stared at the shadowy shape of his hand. For such rough, callused hands, his fingers were rather long and graceful. Digits that belonged to an artist and not a guard. A killer.
Hawke rose, and for a moment, I thought he might walk off to join the others keeping watch, but he didn’t.
Holding the coarse blanket as close as I could around me, I watched him unhook the rolled blanket from his bag and then drop the bag on the ground. Without saying a word, he stepped over me like I was nothing more than a log. Before I could take my next breath, he was lying down behind me.
I cranked my head around. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t freeze to death.” He unrolled the heavy fur blanket, tossing it over his legs. “If you did, that would make me a very bad guard.”
“I’m not going to freeze to death.” My heart started thumping erratically. He was close enough that if I shifted onto my back, my shoulder would touch his.
“What you’re going to do is lure every Craven within a five-mile radius with your shuddering.” He rolled onto his side, facing my back.
“You can’t sleep beside me,” I hissed.
“I’m not.” With the edge of his blanket in hand, he draped it, along
with his arm, over me.
The heavy weight of his appendage settled at my waist, stunning me for a few precious moments. “What do you call this, then?”
“I’m sleeping with you.”
My eyes opened wide. “How is that any different?”
“There’s a huge difference.” His warm breath coasted over my cheek, causing my pulse to dip and then rise.
I stared at the darkness, every part of my body focused on the feel of his arm around me. “You can’t sleep with me, Hawke.”
“And I can’t have you freezing or getting sick. It’s too dangerous to light a fire, and unless you’d rather I get someone else to sleep with you, there really aren’t many other options.”
“I don’t want anyone else to sleep with me.”
“I already knew that,” he replied, his tone both teasing and smug. Heat blasted my cheeks. “I don’t want anyone to sleep with me.”
In the darkness, his gaze found mine, and when next he spoke, his voice was even lower. “I know you have nightmares, Poppy, and I know they can be intense. Vikter warned me about them.”
Sorrow pierced the embarrassment before it could even form, shattering it. “He did?” My voice was thick, hoarse.
“He did.”
My eyes squeezed shut against the burn of pain. Of course, Vikter would’ve filled Hawke in. He’d probably done so the very first night Hawke had to watch over me. I knew in my heart of hearts that Vikter had shared this information for my benefit instead of preparing Hawke for the night one of the nightmares drove me from sleep. He’d done it so Hawke wouldn’t react in a manner that would cause me embarrassment or stress.
Vikter was…gods, I missed him.
“I want to be close enough to intervene in case you have a nightmare,” he continued, and I opened my eyes. “If you scream…”
He didn’t need to finish. If I screamed, I could draw nearby Craven. “So, please, relax and try to rest. We have a hard day ahead of us
tomorrow if we have any hope of not being forced to spend two nights in the Blood Forest.”
A hundred refusals rose to the tip of my tongue, but I was cold, and if I did have a nightmare, someone needed to be nearby to stop me before I started screaming bloody murder. And Hawke’s heat…the warmth of his body was already seeping through the blanket wrapped around us, sinking into my chilled skin and bones.
Besides, all he was doing was sleeping beside me. Or sleeping with
me, as he’d said. But neither of those things was forbidden.
And it wasn’t like we hadn’t already done things I should’ve protested or avoided. Compared to the night at the Red Pearl and during the Rite, this was extraordinarily chaste, no matter that I shivered now for an entirely different reason than the cold.
“Go to sleep, Poppy,” he urged.
Exhaling as loudly and obnoxiously as I could, I plopped my cheek back onto the bag and winced. The material had chilled significantly while I had my head up. I ended up staring straight ahead, focusing on the vague shape of one of the guards standing in the moonlight.
I closed my eyes, and immediately, my entire focus went to where Hawke’s body touched mine.
Hawke’s arm was all but curled around my waist, but his hand didn’t touch me. It must’ve dangled in the space in front of me. That was surprisingly…polite of him. His chest rested beside my back, and with every breath he took, it brought his body more into contact with mine.
The only sound other than my pounding heart—which I wondered if he heard—was the rattle of the wind stirring the leaves, reminding me of dry bones rubbing together, and the soft neighing of the horses.
Was Hawke asleep already? If he was, I was going to be so irritated. “This is wildly inappropriate,” I muttered.
His answering chuckle stroked my nerves in all the wrong—and right
—ways. “More inappropriate than you masquerading as a wholly different kind of maid at the Red Pearl?”
My jaw snapped shut so quickly and tightly, I was surprised I didn’t crack a molar.
“Or more inappropriate than the night of the Rite, when you let me—” “Shut up,” I hissed.
“I’m not done yet,” he said, his chest pressing against my back. “What about sneaking off to fight the Craven on the Rise? Or that diary—?”
“I get your point, Hawke. Can you stop talking now?” “You’re the one who started this.”
“Actually, no, I did not.”
“What?” A low laugh left him. “You said, and I quote, ’this is wildly, grossly, irrefutably…’”
“Did you just learn what an adverb is today? Because that is not what I said.”
Hawke sighed. “Sorry.”
He didn’t sound sorry about it at all.
“I didn’t realize we were back to pretending we hadn’t done all those other inappropriate things,” he said. “Not that I’m surprised. After all, you’re a pure, untainted, and untouched Maiden. The Chosen.”
Oh, my gods….
“Who’s saving herself for a Royal husband. Who, by the way, will not
be pure, untainted or untouched—”
I moved to jab him with my elbow, but forgot I was currently wrapped in one blanket and draped with another. All I managed to do was uncover the front of my body, revealing it to the cold air.
Hawke laughed.
“I hate you.” I scrambled to fold myself back up into my blanket cocoon.
“See, that’s the problem. You don’t hate me.” I had no response to that.
“You know what I think?”
“No. And I don’t want to know.” He ignored that. “You like me.”
My brows knitted together as I stared out over the small clearing. “Enough to be wildly inappropriate with me.” A pause. “On multiple
occasions.”
“Good gods, I’d rather freeze to death at this point.”
“Oh, right. We’re pretending none of that happened. I keep forgetting.” “Just because I don’t bring it up every five minutes doesn’t mean I’m
pretending it didn’t happen.”
“But bringing it up every five minutes is so much fun.”
The corners of my lips tipped up as I lifted the edges of the blanket above my chin. “I’m not pretending none of that stuff happened,” I admitted in a low voice. “It’s just that…”
“That it shouldn’t have happened?”
I didn’t want to say that. I felt like once I did, I couldn’t take it back. “It’s just that I’m not supposed to…do any of that. You know that. I am the Maiden.”
Hawke was quiet for several moments. “And how do you really feel about that, Poppy?”
After several false starts when I tried to answer him, I closed my eyes and just answered truthfully. “I don’t want it. I don’t want to be given to the gods and then, after that, if there is an after part, I don’t want to be married off to someone I’ve never met, who will probably…”
“Probably what?” His voice was quiet, soothing even.
I swallowed hard. “Who will probably be…” I sighed. “You know how Royals are. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and flaws, well, they are unacceptable.” Warmth finally crept into my cheeks. The words tasted like ash. “If I end up as an Ascended, I’m sure whoever the Queen pairs me with will be the same.”
Hawke didn’t say anything for a long moment, and I was so grateful, I almost rolled around and hugged him. Nothing he could’ve said would’ve made what I said any less humiliating to admit.
“Duke Teerman was a cunt,” he said. “And I’m glad he’s dead.”
A shocked laugh burst from me, loud enough that I saw the pacing guard stop. “Oh, gods, that was loud.”
“It’s okay.” He sounded as if he smiled.
Grinning into the blanket, I said, “He was definitely that, but it’s… even if I didn’t have these scars, I wouldn’t be excited. I don’t understand how Ian did it. He barely even knew his wife, and I…I don’t think he’s happy. He never speaks about her, and that’s sad, because our parents loved each other. He should have that.”
I should have that, Maiden or not.
“I heard that your mother refused to Ascend.”
“It’s true. My father was a firstborn son. He was wealthy, but he wasn’t chosen,” I said. “Mom was a Lady in Wait when they met. It was accidental. His father—my grandfather—was close to King Jalara. My father went to the castle with him once, and that’s when he saw my mother. Supposedly, it was love at first sight.” My smile faded. “I know that sounds silly, but I believe it. It happens—at least for some.”
“It’s not silly. It does exist.”
A slight frown pulled at my lips. His voice sounded off. I couldn’t explain it exactly, but it made me wonder if he’d seen someone and had fallen in love with them after just one conversation. I thought of how he’d admitted to being in love before.
The center of my chest burned.
“Is that why you were at the Red Pearl? Looking for love?” “I don’t think someone goes looking for love there.”
“You never know what you’ll find there.” He was quiet for a moment. “What did you find, Poppy?”
His question was so soft, it was almost…seductive. “Life.” “Life?”
I closed my eyes again. “I just want to experience things before my Ascension.” Before whatever happened during the Ascension. “There’s so much I haven’t experienced. You know that. I didn’t go there looking for anything in particular. I just wanted to experience—”
“Life,” he answered. “I get it.”
“Do you? Really?” I didn’t think even Tawny got it.
“I do. Everyone around you can do basically whatever they want, but you’re shackled by archaic rules.”
“Are you saying that the word of the gods is archaic?” “You said it, not me.”
My nose wrinkled. “I’ve never understood why it is the way it is.” I opened my eyes. “All because of the way I was born.”
“The gods chose you before you were even born.” He felt closer, like if we weren’t wrapped up, I’d feel his breath on the back of my neck. “All because you were ’born in the shroud of the gods, protected even inside the womb, veiled from birth.’”
“Yes,” I whispered, opening my eyes. “Sometimes, I wish…I wish I was…”
“What?”
Someone different. Someone other than the Maiden. Thinking it was one thing. Saying it out loud was another. I’d come close to admitting it to Vikter, but that was as close as I would let myself get with those words.
It was far past time to switch gears. “Never mind. And I don’t sleep well. That’s another reason why I was at the Pearl.”
“Nightmares?”
“Sometimes. Other times, my head doesn’t…go quiet. It replays things over and over,” I said, the shivering easing a little.
“What is your mind so loud about?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard. No one other than maybe Tawny— not even Vikter—had ever asked me that. Ian would’ve if he were still near. “Lately, it’s been the Ascension.”
“I imagine you’re excited to meet the gods.”
I snorted like a piglet. “Far from it. It actually terrifies—” I sucked in a sharp breath, shocked that I had so willingly admitted that out loud.
“It’s okay,” he said, seeming to sense my disbelief. “I don’t know much about the Ascension and the gods, but I’d be terrified to meet them.”
“You?” Disbelief compounded on top of itself. “Terrified?”
“Believe it or not, some things do scare me. The secrecy around the actual ritual of the Ascension is one of them. You were right that day when you were with the Priestess. It is so similar to what the Craven do, but what is done to stop aging—stop sickness for what has to be an eternity in the eyes of a mortal?”
My stomach shifted with unease. “It’s the gods—their Blessing. They make themselves seen during the Ascension. To even look upon them changes you,” I explained, but my words sounded uncomfortably hollow.
“They must be a sight to behold.” While I sounded empty, he sounded as dry as a whole swath of the Wastelands. “I’m surprised.”
“About?”
“You.” His chest touched my back again when he took a deep breath. “You’re just not what I expected.”
I wasn’t.
Most would look forward to meeting the gods, to possibly becoming an Ascended. Ian did, just like Tawny, and all the Ladies and Lords in Wait, but not me or my mother, and that made us different. Not in a unique way. Not in a special way. But in a way that made it…difficult to be who we were, even if our reasons were vastly different.
I shook my head. “I should be asleep. So should you.”
“The sun will be up sooner than we realize, but you’re not going to sleep anytime soon. You’re as tense as a bowstring.”
“Well, sleeping on the hard, cold ground of the Blood Forest, waiting for a Craven to attempt to rip my throat out, or a barrat to eat my face isn’t exactly soothing.”
“A Craven will not get to you. Neither will a barrat.” “I know. I have my dagger under my bag.”
“Of course, you do.”
I smiled into the night.
“I bet I can get you relaxed enough that you sleep like you’re on a cloud, basking in the sun.”
I snorted again, rolling my eyes. “You doubt me?”
“There is nothing anyone or anything in this world could do that would make that happen.”
“There is so much you don’t know.”
My eyes narrowed. “That may be true, but that is one thing I do know.”
“You’re wrong. And I can prove it.” “Whatever.” I sighed.
“I can, and when I’m done, right before you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, you’re going to tell me I’m right,” he told me.
“Doubtful,” I said, wishing that he could actually do—
The hand that had been dangling in the air was suddenly flat against my upper stomach, startling me.
My head jerked back around. “What are you doing?”
“Relaxing you,” he said, and all I could tell was that his head was dipped.
“How is this relaxing me?” “Wait, and I’ll show you.”
I started to tell him that he didn’t need to show me anything, but then his hand began to move in slow, small circles. My mouth fell shut. Somehow, he’d gotten that hand between the folds of my blanket, through the cloak, and under the sweater to move against my thin undershirt. He moved those fingers in circles, first in small, tight ones, and then larger arcs until his fingers reached below my navel and his thumb almost brushed the undersides of my breasts. All he was doing was rubbing my belly, but it was new and different and it felt like…like more than that. A warm, shivery sensation radiated from his hand.
“I don’t think this is making me relaxed.”
“It would if you’d stop trying to strain your neck.” Suddenly, his head lowered, and his lips touched my cheek. “Lay back down, Poppy.”
I did what he said only because of how close his mouth had been to mine.
“When you listen to me, I think the stars will fall.” He followed me down so he spoke just above my ear. “I wish I could capture this moment somehow.”
“Well, now I want to lift my head again.”
“Why am I not surprised?” The sweep of his touch drifted lower, now below my navel. “But if you did, then you wouldn’t find out what I have planned. And if I know anything about you, it’s that you’re curious.”
An answering warmth bloomed under his hand and spread lower. I sent a nervous glance to the guard. “I…I don’t think this should happen.”
“What is this?” His fingers brushed the band of my breeches, causing me to jerk. “I have a better question for you. Why did you go to the Red Pearl, Poppy? Why did you let me kiss you under the willow?”
I opened my mouth, but his lips brushed the curve of my cheek, stealing my words.
“You were there to live. Isn’t that what you said? You let me pull you into that empty chamber to experience life. You let me kiss you under the willow because you wanted to feel. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Nothing at all.” His lips coasted back up my cheek, sending a fine shiver over my skin. “Why can’t tonight be that?”
My eyes closed briefly and then reopened, fixed on the guard.
“Let me show you just a little of what you missed by not coming back to the Red Pearl.”
“The guards,” I whispered, and it wasn’t lost on me that they were my concern. Not the gods. Not the rules. Not what I was.
“No one can see what I’m doing.” His hand moved, slipping down and between my thighs. I gasped as he cupped me through the pants that no longer felt thick at all. “But we know they’re there.”
I could barely breathe around the sharp swirl of sensation that settled low in my stomach and made my chest feel heavy, achy.
“They have no idea what’s going on. No clue that my hand is between the thighs of the Maiden.” His voice was a hot whisper as he pulled me back and pressed against me, causing another puff of air to escape my lips. My rear nestled into the cradle of his hips. He made a deep, rumbling sound that sent a flash of heat through me. “They have no idea that I’m touching you.”
And then he was no longer just palming me. He was touching me, rubbing two of his fingers over the seam of the pants, over the very center of me. A rush of damp heat flooded me. My gaze dropped, and I almost expected to see what he was doing under the blanket.
I saw nothing in the darkness. But I felt everything.
How did we get here? I couldn’t quite figure it out, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I’d had a taste before of what I was feeling now, and just a tease seemed so unfair. And wasn’t that what living meant? Taking more than a sip here and small bite there. It was all about gulping and swallowing as much as you could.
I wanted to feel as much as I could, especially after feeling nothing but pain and anger for so long. I felt none of that now.
I would be in the capital soon, and it was quite possible that my Ascension would happen sooner than expected. And if I came back from it, I knew beyond a doubt that whoever I ended up with wouldn’t make me feel half of what Hawke always seemed to elicit from me, whether it be irritation and anger, laughter and amusement, or this—this consuming, rippling wave of acute pleasure.
His fingers toyed with the stitching, pushing in just hard enough that I felt the touch all the way to the tips of my toes. Every part of my body became hyperaware.
How did he think this was going to help me sleep?
I was wide-awake now, pulse pounding and heart crashing, and he was touching, rubbing me in a way that caused my hips to twitch.
He dragged his hand up the front of the breeches. His palm brushed along the bare flesh of my lower stomach. Those long fingers settled over a throbbing point and moved in slow, steady circles. “I bet you’re soft and wet and ready.” His voice was a lush growl in my ear. “Should I find out?”
I shuddered, half afraid that he would. Partly scared that he wouldn’t.
The friction of his fingers, the rough material against my flesh…and his words… Oh, gods, they were decadent, purely sinful, and I never wanted it to end.
“Would you like that?” he asked, and my hips rolled instinctively, seeking his touch. He made that sound again, that rumble of approval that was so raw and primitive. “I would do more than this.”
Eyes open only a slit, I watched the not-too-distant shape of one of the guards slowly patrolling the north-facing side of the camp, my skin and body flaming with forbidden heat as my hips moved again. This time, it wasn’t only a reaction I couldn’t control. I moved them purposefully, rocking them against that slow, steady circling of his fingers. I reveled in the spike of aching, biting pleasure that followed.
I shouldn’t allow this. Not even in the privacy of a room, and surely not where someone could just turn around. I imagined if they paid close enough attention, they’d know that something was happening. I was almost positive that the guard closest to us, the one I watched even now, was Kieran. He seemed as alert as Hawke.
This was wrong.
But how could it…how could it feel so right, then? So good? I was becoming a being of liquid, pulsing fire, all due to just two long, graceful fingers.
“You feel what I’m doing, Poppy?” I nodded.
“Imagine what my fingers would feel like with nothing between them and your skin.”
I shuddered.
“I would do this.” His fingers pressed in, a little harder, a little rougher, and my legs jerked. “I would get inside of you, Poppy. I would taste you. I bet you’re as sweet as honeydew.”
Oh, gods….
I bit down on my lip as my grip eased off the blanket. I reached down, placing my hand over his forearm. He stopped. He waited. Wordlessly, I lifted my hips to his hand as my fingers dug into his skin. The ache was becoming unbearable.
“Yes,” he breathed. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” “Yes,” I whispered, forcing the word out past my lips.
His fingers started moving again, and I almost cried out. “I would work in another finger. You’d be tight, but you’re also ready for more.”
My breath was coming out in quick, shallow pants as I felt the tendons in his arm flex under my hand, as my hips moved in the same circles he was making against me.
“I would thrust my fingers in and out.” His lips brushed the skin just below my ear. “You’d ride them just like you’re riding my hand right now.” That’s what I was doing, shamelessly so. Clutching his arm, I rocked against his hand, chasing that unbelievable tension that kept building and
tightening.
“But we won’t do that tonight. We can’t. Because if I get any part of me in you, every part of me would be in you, and I want to hear every sound you make when that happens.”
Before I could even feel disappointment, before I could truly process the silky promise in his words, he shifted his hand lower, pressing his fingers against the very center of me while his thumb rolled over the part that throbbed. There was nothing slow about his movements then. He knew exactly what he was doing with all that swirling, inescapable tension. Hawke shifted beside me, somehow, working his other arm under my shoulders. He hauled me flush against his front, and I was no longer just moving against his hand, but against him, the rolls of my hips erratic and sharp. Soft, low moans escaped my lips. I felt trapped, wonderfully pinned between his hand and the hard, unyielding length of his body. Something… something was happening. It was what his kisses and brief touches before had hinted at and promised. My body suddenly went as tight as a bowstring taking aim, and my lips parted a second before Hawke folded his hand over
my mouth, silencing the moan I wouldn’t have been able to suppress. His hot mouth moved against the side of my throat, his lips, his teeth. There was a wicked sharpness—
The tension broke. I broke. Pleasure whipped out, intense and sudden. It was like standing on a ledge and then being pushed over. I fell, shuddering in pulsing, throbbing waves, and I kept falling until the hand between my legs slowed and then stopped. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or when Hawke’s fingers slipped from my thighs or his hand eased away from my mouth. My heart was only beginning to slow when I became aware of his hand pressed against my stomach, and his arm curled around my shoulders, keeping my boneless body snug against his.
I thought maybe I should say something but…what? Thank you seemed inappropriate. And I thought that it wasn’t entirely fair that he had given me this, while I gave him nothing of the sort. Plus, I thought that I should probably look to see if Kieran or any of the other guards had noticed what Hawk had done—what we’d done under the blankets, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I couldn’t get any words out.
“I know you’re not going to admit it,” Hawke said, voice low and thick. “But you and I both will always know that I was right.”
My lips curved into a faint, sleepy smile. He was right.
Again.
