What came out of me was a whisper. “Did it get warmer?”
Leland shook his head.
“But you cast fire in the lanterns?”Nope. “Water?” I scanned his room for cups. But there was no trace of elemental magic. No fire stirring my blood. Only him.
Only him.
I should have climbed off his lap then, but I didn’t want to, and his fingers locked against the base of my spine told me it was fine to stay, at least a little longer. He shifted me higher in his lap, and I dropped my head, resting it on his shoulder.
“You were wearing a crown,” I said, not saying what else I was thinking. The crown suited him, and probably, if we were like this on a couch, and I was on top, probably he could keep wearing it.
“I was,” he said back.
Focus, Ember. Focus.
“All this time,” I said slowly, not really surprised, although it was objectively surprising, “you’ve been hiding that you’re royalty?”
“No,” Leland said with a small laugh. “I haven’t. Everden doesn’t have kings and queens; we never have. I think it was a Sundering costume — a Halloween party for your birthday.” To explain how he knew this, he added, “We had cake after the intercourse.”
“Cake,” I said, for some reason touching his arm. “What kind?”
Did I care what kind? No. Not really. But was I trying to stop thinking about the act of sleeping with him? Yes. Very much.
“White,” he said simply, and he closed his eyes for a beat.
I stopped myself from running a hand through waves of his brown hair where that crown had sat so well on him. There was nothing costumey about his crown in the Vision, not to mention I’d been in a simple black slip dress, and while it was sexier than what I usually wore, I was still me — not pretending to be anything else. And Leland, I could more easily see him as a true king than someone pretending to be one.
I twirled one of the strings at his neck and looked up at him. “Do you usually dress up for the Sundering?”
“No,” he said softly, and his face drifted closer to reclaim the inch I’d taken away from us, our noses a breath away from touching again. “But maybe I do with you.”
“Maybe,” I replied, then smiled at a tiny kernel of pink salt trying to disguise itself among the dots of his stubble.
Leland, a king. Me, a Dark Witch. And we were happy together. Happy on the Sundering. Halloween. My birthday.
His hands slid slowly up my back, his face tilting ever so slightly as he looked at my lips with a question in his eyes.
“This feels like you’re going to kiss me,” I said, uncertain and a little panicky as I pulled back from him.
“I wanted to.” He let his head fall back on the couch in a relaxed position, his hands still exploring my back, lightly. “Not if you don’t though.”
“I don’t think I do,” I said softly, unconvincingly.
“Agreed.” He stared at my mouth like he wanted to devour it. “Why?”
“You can’t agree and then ask why.”
“I just did.” His hands stilled on my hips. “I want to know your reason.”
“Tell me yours first,” I said. “Because the last time this came up, you said, ‘We can’t.’ Then you took a nap for four hours.”
Leland chuckled softly, looking downward. “Is that why you pulled away? Because you don’t believe I’d want to kiss you? Ember . . .” He sighed, then lifted his gaze to me. “I felt you dying inside the temple. I don’t know. It’s probably still not good for us. But I just want what I want right now.” He caressed where my hair was bunched in the hood of his sweatshirt I was wearing, then lightly untangled my hair from it. “Why did you change your mind? Do you only want to when your blood’s burning?”
Really, he was going to erase my memory anyway, so myreason might not even matter. We could do this, and I’d have no recollection of it tomorrow. Except, sometimes, strong memories, even when erased, left physical imprints. And if I remembered anything about tonight, it would be this. Leland holding me in his arms.
“I want this,” I said. “I want thisconstantly. I pulled away because I think it’s what’s right.”
He nodded. “Will you tell me why?”
