“I’m sorry for pushing you away.” I fight that old shame, which tells me in no uncertain terms that I am unworthy of Notus, this one good thing. But I am, after all, human. I am imperfect. I am unfinished and always will be. “I was not in a good place, as you know, and I suppose I felt insecure about myself.”
He cups my face in his broad hands, thumbs smoothing away the tears that trickle like rivulets. “Insecure in what way?”
Despite my attempts to stifle the emotion, it rushes up and out. The words emerge as a croak. “I feared that you would leave, that you did not want me.”
Notus’ eyes soften, and warm. “Sarai.” My name is a sound of relief and completeness and deep knowing. It makes my knees quake. “I have never wanted a single thing in my life, but I saw you, and I fell, and not even the gods could stop me.”
The stony emotion obstructing my airway eases, and I swallow, hard.
“I have always loved you,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “I don’t think you truly understand how deep my feelings for you run. I am enthralled by you. Wholly, stupidly, madly in love with you.You, just as you are in this moment. Just as you have always been.” The corners of his mouth drag downward into a frown, and he searches my gaze. “But I have spent many nights lying awake wondering if those feelings were reciprocated.”
That fault is mine. I have given no reason for Notus to trust my word. After all, my actions have not always showcased my true feelings—rather, the opposite.
“Shall I tell you,” I begin, “what excruciating torture it has been since you arrived? To watch you practice in the pre-dawn mist and pretend I do not notice the sweat slicking your skin? To search for you in the corridors, to listen for the rhythm of your footsteps around every corner, across every room? Some days, I thought I was going mad from the obsession.”
A short laugh chases my words, and I’m caught in the South Wind’s eyes, sheened as mine are by emotion too great to contain. “Shall I tell you,” I go on, “the ways that your kindness slowly chipped away myarmor? How your patience was sometimes the only thing that kept me grounded? Or that you have inspired me beyond measure to grow and face down those fears I harbor? The care you have for my people. Your belief in me, gods…” Without Notus, would I have even considered leaving Ishmah? Would I have recognized how poorly Father treated me, if I did not receive the South Wind’s love and acceptance and gentleness?
“You have absolutely stolen my heart, Notus. There’s no way around it. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I’ll love you tomorrow, for as long as you’ll have me. You are all that I want. And… I hope I’m not too late in telling you th—”
His mouth crushes roughly against mine. Our teeth collide. The sting fizzles through my blood, and as he parts my lips with his tongue, licking deeply, my thoughts scatter to the wind.
For here is hunger. The biting drive to consume, its descent into madness. His taste, his scent, the power of his form, all combine to create the headiest impression, sensation at the forefront. Our tongues dance and our lips feast. He drags from me embarrassing sounds of need; I wrench those deliciously low groans from his throat, the ones that send vibrations through my sternum as I press closer, breasts crushed against his chest. We have nothing but our past, our exposed hearts. There is no need to shield, no reason to conceal. My appetite rips wide. It demandsmore. I feed it eagerly.
Meanwhile, my hands map the South Wind, no part of his body left untouched. The wings of his shoulder blades beneath the cotton of his robe, which ease toward the curved spine, its lifted vertebrae, leading to the taut curves of his buttocks, which I shamelessly clamp with both hands. Pleasantly round, firmly muscled. I fight the inane urge to catch his flesh between my teeth.
“I always did love your ass,” I whisper into his mouth. That inane urge? Not so inane, considering I’ve done it before.
Notus’ warm chuckle teases out. “I remember.” The tips of his fingers skate across my hip, the slope of my lower back, pausing at the rise of my rear. He goes no farther. It only serves to heighten my desire,whet it to an acute point. “I believe I’ve told you plenty of times how I admire yours.”
He has, hasn’t he? “Do you stare at my ass often?” The warmth in my belly spills upward, my peaked breasts aching as their tips graze the front of his robe.
The South Wind smiles with his eyes. “Down hallways, as you climb stairs.” Our noses brush. He exhales into my mouth. “Does that anger you?”
“No,” I murmur. “But it might, if you don’t touch me soon.”
As he drags his lips along my jaw, the tingling sensation shivers through me, temporarily drawing my focus elsewhere. I wait, breath held in anticipation as Notus’ touch wanders south. His heated palm strokes one ass cheek. Then, a sudden slap, a bright sting against my skin. I jerk against him, breathless laughter tumbling free. It’s cut short as he claims my mouth, tongue plunging deep.
As our lower bodies shift into alignment, his erection presses between my thighs. I pull away, panting hard. His black eyes flicker behind a haze of desire.
“What do we have here?” I murmur.
I allow my palm to graze his turgid flesh. It surges hotly, and he bites back an oath. The sound is everything to me. The South Wind, so carefully contained, yet one thread is pulled, and he unravels at the seams.
It is an entirely instinctive gesture to roll my hips, dragging myself against the jutting length inside his trousers. One of his hands drives into my hair, fisting the long dark strands between his blunt fingers, my scalp smarting with a delicious pain. The desire is so thick the air is laden with it, and my pulse drives higher as the kiss spirals into rich, velvet carnality, our mouths so deeply mated I find our edges blurred, reduced to shadow and smoke and night.
Because the South Wind and I were never meant to remain separate parts. Sun and moon, earth and sky, forever caught in an endless cycle, a perpetual push and pull. Fate laid the stones of this road long before. Oh, how I fought every winding curve. But it was all for naught.
Time spins on its axis, yet I hold the South Wind close. Here is what I know: tomorrow is never guaranteed. There is no perfect moment. Lives are messy, unpleasant, chaotic. I don’t know what awaits beyond the labyrinth. I’m not even sure we’ll make it out alive. But I won’t squander the time I’ve been given. It heals something in me, to give myself to this immortal in all ways: mind, body, soul. We will not be parted, not again.
After a time, I pull back, gently breaking our kiss. Notus searches my eyes for one, two, three heartbeats.
“You must understand,” I say lowly, tracing his eyebrow with my thumb. “I’m selfish when it comes to you.” It has always been so. His time, his touch, his voice, his presence, his desert scent. “I don’t want one lifetime with you, Notus. I want a thousand lifetimes. As many as you can give me.”
But my heart sinks. For while Notus is permitted that privilege, I am only granted one.
As though sensing my thoughts, he frames my cheeks between his palms.
“What will happen when this is over?” I ask. “If we survive, I mean.”
