I snap back to the present with a gasp. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I feel the shape of the wooden camel, clutching it until my knuckles turn white.
Farron’s amber eyes are watching me, unblinking, waiting for an answer I can’t give.
“I have accepted it, Farron,” I say, my voice hoarse. “And every time, I lose myself entirely until I’m a creature of my father’s will and malice.”
“You were young then.” Farron waves a dismissive hand.
I circle him warily. How does he know my age? “You keep calling it a gift. It’s not.”
“You’ve used it sparingly in such grand displays. I didn’t appreciate it when you destroyed the Nightingale’s army inSpring. Didn’t understand that’s merely a mote of the power inside you.” Farron’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t look away. “You’ve carried it all this time but never truly let it burn. Only that once, so long ago.”
The words stick in my throat like thorns. “I’ve seen what it can do. I’ve felt it. It doesn’t just burn—it destroys. And you don’t come back the same.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy and charged. Farron’s expression softens, but his eyes remain intent, as if he’s trying to pull the truth from me without me saying another word.
“Some things aren’t meant to be wielded,” I add.
Then his hand is on my face, forcing me to look at him. “You could have the whole world on their knees with the power you wield.”
I know, I think, not sure if the words reach him.That’s what I’m afraid of.
Shifting out of his grip, I give a light chuckle. “Come, Fare, why would I want the whole world on their knees? It’d be much more entertaining if it were only you before me.”
I take a step away from him, turning my attention to the towering ice shelves. Farron grabs hold of me. In one swift motion, he slams me back against the shelf, the impact sending books cascading around us like falling leaves.
He tilts his head. His soft curls almost brush past his chin. They frame his face in a way that emphasizes his jawline, strong and dusted with stubble. “You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, Cas.”
I open my mouth, close it. I’m suddenly at a complete loss for words. His hand is firm on my shoulder. I’m wearing nothing more than drab, spare clothing they rustled up for me, but Farron must have brought some of his finery from Autumn. Hisattire is darker than usual—deep maroons and browns that seem to drink in the light rather than reflect it.
“You said I owe you,” he says. “I could repay you right now.”
His eyes pull me in—the same amber hue as always but deeper, like molten gold caught in shadow. They drop to my lips.
“Careful, pup.” I smirk. “There aren’t any guards around to catch us. You wouldn’t be able to play this off as a diversion.”
“I don’t want diversion,” Farron says. “I want you.”
Then he kisses me.
His hand is on my jaw, his lips on mine. He’s not hesitant or questioning but warrior-fierce. Heat flares between us, cutting through the ever-present damnable cold. I find myself holding on to his tunic, pulling him closer, despite knowing I should stop.
The scents of cedarwood and smoke envelop me as he opens his mouth, tongue pressing between my lips. Farron slides his hand around the back of my neck, anchoring me to him. The kiss is desperate, like it’s the only way for him to bridge the gap I’ve placed between us since he stepped into the pool.
When he pulls away, his breath is warm against my cheek, and his gaze locks with mine. “You can fight me on this later,” he says, “but right now, I really want to kiss you again.”
Fuck him for doing this.Because after the never-ending pain in that prison of fire, gods, does it feel good to be touched like this.
I say nothing, because I can’t. Instead, I grip the front of his tunic tighter and pull him back to me.
This time, I kiss him.
There’s no hesitation, no moment for breath or thought—just heat, ferocious and unrelenting. He grabs my waist, drawing me in until not even a sliver of space remains between us.
I gasp against his lips as he shifts, his hands sliding down to my hips. With surprising ease, he maneuvers me backward, hismovements deliberate, until the edge of a table presses into the backs of my thighs. Farron breaks the kiss long enough to meet my gaze, his amber eyes dark with intent, as if daring me to stop him.
I don’t. Stars, I need to. But I’ve already descended to the Below with him. How much further can we go?
“I tasted you,” he says, pupils blown, “when my tongue was deep inside her. I still tasted traces of you.”
