"I'm not afraid of you," I tell him.
"You should be."
"You keep saying that." I stroke my thumb across his cheekbone. "And I keep not listening."
A muscle jumps in his jaw. "Annora—"
"Do you know what I saw today?" I don't let him pull away. "I saw you fighting for your people. I saw you trying to hold the curse back even when it was burning you alive. I saw you fighting yourself as hard as you were fighting the enemy."
"Ilost."
"You came back." I pull his forehead down to mine. "When I touched you, you cameback. The curse had you completely, Vorak. And you still came back."
His breath shudders out. "Because of you."
"Maybe. Or maybe because you're stronger than you think."
He makes a wounded sound and kisses me—desperate and careful all at once, like he's afraid I'll shatter.
I kiss him back harder.
Demanding.
Not fragile. Not breakable.
Here.
When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"You saved my life today," he says roughly. "Saved everyone's life. And you nearly killed yourself doing it."
"I'm fine."
"You collapsed."
"I'mfine." I take his hand and place it on my chest, over my heart. "See? Still beating."
He stares at where his palm rests, and I can see the war in his face—the need to pull me close versus the fear of hurting me.
I make the decision for both of us.
I pull him toward the bed.
"Annora—" He resists. Barely. "You need to rest."
"I needyou." I meet his eyes. "Please."
The word breaks something in him.
He lets me lead him to the bed, lets me push him down to sit on the edge. I climb into his lap, straddling him, and his hands come up automatically to steady me at the waist.
"You should be afraid of this," he says, but his fingers are already tracing patterns on my hips through the thin fabric of my shift.
"I'm not." I kiss his jaw. His throat. The place where his pulse hammers. "Do you want me?"
His hands tighten. "Always."
"Then stop punishing yourself for things you can't control."
