I raised an eyebrow, confused. “You were with him at archery practice. You share similar interests.”
“He has his qualities, good and bad.”
“Don’t we all?”
“I suppose,” Lucas said, a hint of amusement crinkling the corners of his dark eyes. “But we don’t exactly see eye to eye when it comes to certain things.”
“Like the monster?”
He nodded. “Though I know it isn’t something we should ignore. It’s dangerous.”
“No,” I said, heart sinking. “I suppose we shouldn’t.”
Telling Lucas about what was happening to me was out of the question.
“I don’t like Qian, though,” Lucas said.
“Why?”
Lucas was having a hard time articulating it. “The way he looks at you, it sets all my nerves on end.” He shook his head, like he was clearing his own thoughts, and asked, “Are you and Qian courting?”
“What? No! I’m trying to figure out how to help Nix.” Then I remembered the flowers he’d brought for me. Did Lucas know? Had he seen Qian picking the flowers earlier? Had Lucas overheard Qian saying something? My chest tightened when Lucas stepped toward me, and I instinctively stepped back. I didn’t want him to get too close. What if he saw that there was something wrong with me? What if he saw what I was turning into?
Even if he weren’t with Amador, how could he possibly love me now?
“I don’t think I can court anyone else,” I said. Something like relief washed across Lucas’s face, but accusation came across mine. “Why would you care? You’re marrying Amador.”
Lucas huffed loudly through his nose. “It doesn’t stop the way I feel.”
Any anger that came naturally when I was with him had been muted. My desperation won out. I had to know. “Then how do you feel? Tell me. For once.”
Maybe the cave was affecting him, too, because his eyes were bright, vibrant, as if he’d downed an entire bottle of wine.
“When he was touching you, when you were learning to shoot that bow…” Lucas was so close now, I could feel his breath on my cheek. “I had this raging fire inside me. BecauseIwanted to be the one to touch you like that.”
My stomach somersaulted, and heat rushed to my face. He’d echoed my own thoughts back to me. I’d thought those same words seeing him and Amador together. He was jealous of Qian. I remembered the way Lucas had looked, like he was going to be sick, and how I’d assumed it was because he didn’t want to be near me. And here I thought I was the jealous one.
“I didn’t know you cared,” I said. I desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, but I fought myself, keeping my fists at my sides.
“I care about you so much, sometimes I think I’m losing my mind.”
I care about you, too,I wanted to scream. Instead, I asked, “So, then, what are we to each other?”
“Every day when I wake up,” he whispered, eyes roaming overmy face, “every moment before I go to sleep, you’re in my thoughts. You’re all I can think about. You haunt me.”
It was getting harder to breathe. The magic of this cave was getting to my head. “It felt like you were ignoring me. Like I was invisible.”
“Invisible?” He practically gasped, and his eyes went wide. “MJ, you’re the only person I can look at.”
Something like joy took root in my heart. “Lucas…” I whispered. The truth was right on the tip of my tongue, waiting to be let loose. I still loved him. My mind told me to stop, but my heart told me to tell him how I felt. “I…I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”
His gaze, half-lidded, dropped to my lips, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me. It was like nothing had changed between us, like nothing at all was standing in our way. No betrothals, no politics. We were alone, and we were together. Finally.
This time, it was my turn to show him how I felt. I leaned in, and my lips caught on his, kissing him like I always wanted. My eyes slipped closed, and all I felt was the softness of his mouth. He smelled amazing—of clean steel, a sharpness that sang. He parted his lips, and our kiss deepened, like he was releasing all the pent-up energy he’d been harnessing these past few days. We practically became one as his hands drew up my arms, caressing my skin with rough fingertips, and it sent rolling waves of pleasure rippling down my spine. Those hands were rough because they were meant to protect—to protect me—never to harm. They were rough and calloused so I would never be in danger.
His mouth tipped mine up, and it made me gasp when histongue slipped between my lips. And yet he was so gentle as he cradled the side of my face with one hand and held me upright with the other.
It felt so good, I was drunk off his kiss.
