“So let them stare,” I say.
She shakes her head, going to pull the gown back over her shoulders.
“Nini,” I tell her, “stop!”
She freezes and for a moment I hesitate. Can I do this? Is it safe?
I want her to know how beautiful every part of her is. I want her to know how much I love her scars. How much I love all of her.
And so I make up my mind, yanking off first one leather glove, then the other, and stepping towards her.
Chapter Eighteen
Briony
The skin across my back is so mangled, there’s very little sensation left.
And yet when Thorne steps towards me, I feel the heat of his body draw closer and the electricity of his magic brushing up against me.
“Don’t move, Nini,” he whispers, leaning in so his mouth is mere inches from the shell of my ear – the closest he’s ever been to me.
I hold my breath on instinct, my legs trembling because this close I feel the power of his magic, but also the tenderness of it. My heart flutters in my chest, full of anticipation.
I hear him shuffle on his feet, right behind me. I hear him draw in another breath.
And then I feel it, the press of his fingertip against my disfigured skin.
Despite the damaged nerves and the scar tissue, I feel Thorne touch me and my entire body shudders from head to toe.
“Okay?” he whispers and the room is silent as if everyone else daren’t breathe, daren’t spook us both and break this moment.
“Y-y-y-yes,” I answer, closing my eyes so I can concentrate in on his touch, his magic tingling against my flesh, his own skin warm.
He draws his fingertip slowly down my back, from the point where my shoulder blades meet to the pinch of my waist, over the lumps and rivets caused by whatever instrument of torture my stepmom had to hand.
I feel the power of his shadows straining to break loose. I sense the eagerness and the danger. From that simple touch, I understand why he’s been so frightened to do this. It’s clear if his shadows broke free, if he failed to control them, they could rip me apart, leaving far more damage than one woman in Slate Quarter ever could.
But I’m not afraid. Not one bit.
I trust him. I trust his shadows. I trust my heart.
“If I could, I’d smooth them all away. If I could, I would turn back time and I’d find you in Slate Quarter, take you away from all you suffered. But I don’t have that ability.”
“They are what they are,” I say.
“They aren’t ugly, Briony. No one is going to notice them. Everyone will be looking at how amazing you look in the dress Fly picked out for you. It was made for you. And you should wear it.”
He glides his fingertip back up my spine, passing over all that mangled flesh once again, running around the base of my neck and then after a pause, resting his hand on my shoulder. I lean into his touch, the weight of his hand anchoring.
“We can’t let our pasts define us, Nini. If I’m brave enough to touch you like this, then you’re brave enough to wear that dress.”
I nod, tears meandering down my cheeks.
“Show them who you are, Nini. Just who they’re dealing with. Scars and beauty and a power like none of them will ever have seen.”
“You’re making it really hard to refuse,” I say, smiling through my tears.
“Is that a yes?” Dray asks.
