“Functionis a strong word for what I’m currently doing.” I take another sip. “How long have you been at the temple, High Priestess?”
Now that I’m delving into personal questions, I expect the same wariness as yesterday, but she answers easily: “This winter is my fourth year. And please,” she murmurs, “don’t be so formal. Call me Elodie when we’re together in private.”
As if there will be more time spent together. In private.
When her irresistible fragrance hits me again, the air seems to thicken between us. I squirm in my seat and set my cup down, the place between my legs pulsing. My focus sharpens, blotting out our surroundings until Elodie is the only other person in the world, the only thing that matters.
With a shuddering breath, I imagine her crowding me back against the settee and crushing her mouth to mine. The veryideaof kissing her is so enticing; every square inch of my body ignites.
Her nostrils flare, quivering as if she smells something I can’t. That’s when her features go soft, then darken into something resembling urgent need. Her lips part, and she leans closer as if in invitation.
My poor, degenerate heart betrays me, thudding so hard in my chest ithurts. Without fully knowing what I’m doing or why, I reach for her, framing her face between my hands. Her skin iswarm velvet. Tilting my head, I lean in to meet her, brushing her lips with mine.
The softness of her full mouth carries a power I can’t articulate. There’s a sharp intake of breath before she surrenders, melting into me. She’s more delectable than I imagined, her soft heat and intoxicating fragrance utterly consuming.Elodie.
She drowns out the hissing fire, halts the endless questions knocking around my brain, overshadows my confusion, sadness, pain—all of it.
A second later, she stiffens and pulls away. “Wecan't, Tiss.” Her fingers cinch around my wrists, tugging my hands away before she moves backward on the settee. Reality crowds in, jarring in its harshness.
Oh, no. Please tell me I didn’t just do that…
“Goddess, you can’t just— Whenever you damn well please!” she blurts haltingly, breathing fast.
The pulling between us intensifies, nearly taking my breath away. So many half-formed questions fly through my brain it’s impossible to isolate one line of thought from the flurry.
“That washardlyappropriate.” She gives a stiff jerk of her head that sends the silver leaves jingling. “And youknowit.”
“I’m so sorry.” Lips still burning from our kiss, embarrassment takes hold. Blood scorches my neck and cheeks as her gaze scours me.For shit’s sake.
When I woke up this morning, I didn’t even know I was attracted to women! And now I want to sink through the floor and disappear.
“Didn’t you take your blood vows?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Do me a favor.” She rises to her feet, standing over me. “Keep them in the forefront of your mind if you think you can manage. Not only is indulging in each other forbidden, it’salso a very,verybad idea.” She crosses to the door, muttering something else, but I don’t catch it.
Brigit and Imogen file in, making a general fuss and offering to guide me back to my room. I’m so mortified, I can’t look at the priestess while I let them usher me out.
Chapter 3
Itissa
The refectory’s sconces and candelabras have been snuffed, the tables and sideboards cleared when I poke my head inside. But enticing aromas linger, inspiring another grumble from my empty stomach.
Hunger drives me to venture into the auxiliary kitchen at one end of the rectangular dining hall. When I peek through the doorway, I’m greeted by a cozy space with a pitched timber ceiling, a staircase spiraling downward in the near corner, and a fire crackling in the hearth. A wooden table with bench seating is arranged in front of it.
The room is otherwise cloaked in shadow.
The sight and smell of stew bubbling at the hearth lure me closer. Inside the crock, I find chunks of beef, carrot, and potato swimming in rich broth. I’m so preoccupied, I fail to notice the woman at the table, partly swathed in darkness.
I’m mid-scoop when she says, “Too hungry to sleep?”
I start, clenching the bowl so tightly it nearly sloshes.
“Ooh, careful, it’s hot! It’s good though, I promise.”
I turn slowly, feeling like a burglar caught in the act. “I must have missed dinner.”
