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In that moment, there wasn’t a thing she could ask of him that he would not have done for her. “If that’s what you want.”
Lilith blessed him with another of her small, real smiles. It settled against his soul, tempting one to surface from him as well.
She tilted her head, staring at nothing. Her eyes widened when she caught the thought she was chasing and closed in the space between them. She stuck her right hand out, palm down, the other placed over her heart.
“It won’t happen overnight, and it won’t go away completely, but we could try, can’t we?”
Jarek stayed right where he was with his back against the wall. What is she doing? Weren’t they already acquainted? Maybe he was slow to connect because he was unable to think about anything other than her body pressed up against him in the alleyway. Her warmth, the resinous sweetness of her scent that reminded him of vanilla, her fingers clutched tight to his clothing… That act seemed so much more vivid now that he was secretly hoping and dreading she wanted to get that close of her own volition.
Lilith’s brows knit together, and she glanced at her hand. Her confident posture cracked. “Oops. Let’s see. I can, um…”
He cursed himself straight to Theila’s core for taking a fraction of a second too long. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could tuck it away. She froze, mid-ramble, moving her stare from their hands to him. The realization of what he’d done hit him about the same time he realized he got his wish of further narrowing the distance between them.
Jarek realigned his posture to face her, gently easing her chilled hand back where she had it suspended between them and sliding her palm atop his.
“Forgive me,” he said, placing his free hand over his chest. “You can continue.”
“Oh. Where… where was I?”
A surge of confidence washed over him watching her forget the basics to her own greeting. Jarek leaned over again, pinched the sleeve of her coat, and lifted her arm until it was close enough to where it needed to be.
She reset herself with a shake of her head. “Did, um, Kyer ever mention my family’s name?”
Jarek didn’t break her nervous gaze. “Akira.”
Her brightened smile at the utterance was enough to melt him at her feet. “Whenever people talk about me, my standing, my… anything, they always forget about the other half of me, in the way of my Ashin mother who never even knew she carried Evelian blood. I want to be more than that.”
Lilith was the shattered pieces of a legacy she never asked for, burdened with the responsibility of her predecessor’s history and transgressions. In the face of it all, she was desperately clinging to who she was underneath, and he admired her for it. Where she succeeded, Draven failed. She was willing to push back to keep it, even now.
“I’ll happily go back to Rimore, not solely an Evelian. Lilith, Lily, Wraith, Evelian, Akira. Whatever. First half-blood chosen by the Eizreth’s Wraith, Obliterator of Orchards, or something along those lines.”
Eizreth needed her—he needed her, but he wouldn’t let her lose that part of herself like he did. That was a burden he’d silently carry for her until the time of his own death.
Her expression became more implicative and impatient as she rapped her fingers against his wrist. “And you are?”
A number of thoughts and promises clicked into place. “Jarek Atwood.”
“Jarek Atwood.” The name twirled off her tongue in the most delightful way. “That’s it? No other titles attached to your name?”
He let himself smile. “As far as I’m aware. Nor are there any affiliations with any Hazevales or Evelians. I like to think I’m better than that.”
There was a delay in her response, and he wasn’t sure if she knew she gave one.
“So do I.”
Jarek ever so gently gripped her hand, enthralled with the serenity crossing her face, thanking all the gods, old and new, dark and light, that she couldn’t clearly see his emotions.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Lilith Akira.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Ihave a good feeling about this.”
Lily gnawed on her thumb nail, ignoring Aarin and peering past the bustle of the small market street to the steadily growing group of guards waiting for the shuttle.
“I’m sure this is going to go very well for you,” she muttered.
Sitting on a crate, knees spread and ridiculously relaxed, Aarin jutted his helmet to her and back. “For us. For it to go well for me, it needs to go well for you.”
