Page 8 of Veil of Night & Flames

“He was,” Chase says, wiping away the tear that’s trickling down my cheek. He shifts then, grimacing as he moves to pull the sheet aside, silently inviting me to join him. I don’t hesitate, and soon I’m curled up against him, careful not to bump his wounded thigh as I snuggle close.

For a moment, we’re both silent, the crackle and pop of the fire acting like a soundtrack to my fingers gently stroking his bare chest.

“How long had you known him?” I finally ask.

Chase is quiet for a beat, then he twines his fingers in mine, stopping my lazy doodles on his skin. “An eternity. He was one of the first allies I found after my brother tore us apart.” I nod, remembering what he’d told me about how he and Adric used to be one being—the Guardian—who had maintained the barriers between realms, and how Adric had split them apart with the Guardian’s very own blade. A single act, now known as The Breaking, that set the barriers to failing. And, in some weird and convoluted way, led to me now being in bed with this man—and betrothed to Adric.

“We’ll do a proper memorial when we’re back in the Real,” I promise. “Mr. Griffin knew him. Tia, too. They should be there.”

He brushes a kiss over my forehead. “He would like that.”

I sigh, and for a few minutes, we just sit there in the half-dark, both missing our friend.

Then his hand moves. Not much—just his fingers tracing a slow line down my arm. But there’s a new tension between us with a decidedly sensual edge.

“A few hours still, right?” His voice is rough.

I nod.

“After that, you’re his. Officially.”

“Chase—”

“I’m not asking you to back out. I know why you’re doing it, and I love you for that. But you’re still mine, Cora. Until some maid comes in here bearing your engagement gown, you’re still mine.”

“I’ll always be yours,” I say, but he only shakes his head.

“I want what’s left of the night.” His fingers twine with mine. “I want you while I still have the right.”

“I told Adric I wouldn’t give you up. We won’t⁠—”

He silences me with a finger to my lips. “Just us now,” he says, and before I can even think about protesting, his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding. I melt into it, a wild hunger mixed with relief flowing through me, because oh god, I need this. Need him. Hard and wild and claiming. I need it like I need my next breath.

And yet…

“Your leg.” I have to force the words out. “We can’t. The wound.”

“Gone.” He takes my hand and slides it under the bedsheet, then presses it against the place where the wound had been, now healed, leaving only a slightly raised scar.

“Who would have thought I’d owe the bastard my life?”

“You don’t,” I say, reaching up to cup his cheek.

“Because you already paid my brother’s price.” His voice is low. Harsh.

“I would have paid anything,” I say, remembering my hours with Adric. The price I’d paid for his blood. And yet it had felt like no price at all.

“Tell me you’re still mine,” Chase demands, as his hands find the fastenings of my dress—the midnight silk that Adric transformed from my clothes before the dragon ride.

“Yours,” I say, my heart pounding as his fingers work the clasps. “Always.” The fabric loosens and slides down my skin, the sensation somehow wildly erotic.

And then, when the air brushes my nipples, I feel a jolt of pure, desperate need.

“Please.” It’s the only word I can manage, and it’s heavy with want, though I don’t even know what exactly I need. His hands? His mouth?

Yes. All of it. And more, too. Because right then, I think I might die without his touch.

His fingertip teases my breast, and I somehow manage to pull his shirt over his head, and then it’s just skin and firelight and the sound of our ragged breathing.