Page 4
Story: An Empress of Fire & Steel
“Same one?” was all he asked.
Emara nodded, starting to calm against him, his heat travelling to her, warming her once more.
The trauma of the Uplift and the loss of her best friend had utterly destroyed her. So much so that she couldn’t even find solace in sleep. That elite bastard had destroyed that for her too.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Torin whispered, knowing it wasn’t true. Although Taymir couldn’t physically harm her anymore, she would never mentally get over what he had done to her. To her best friend. No one should witness someone they love having their heart ripped from their chest.
She looked up at him—without rage or anger—through lashes thick with tears. His heart almost stopped all together. Nothing but unimaginable sorrow lay within her deep black eyes, and he tensed again, not knowing how much longer he would be able to look at her like this. A dull ache in his chest reminded him of how truly helpless he felt.
Quickly, he placed the feelings of helplessness into a suppressed section in his mind and filled the void with fury. Always fury. He wanted to end anyone who gave aid to this. Anyone who played a part in this would pay for it, terribly. And Torin Blacksteel vowed that his face would be the last one they saw as they took their final breath.
He stopped his hands from scrunching into fists in front of her.
Sniffling slightly, she rolled onto her back, moving away from his arms. He instantly felt the need to pull her back in again and cradle her.
Strange.
Where she had lay on him was now cold. Empty. And he felt the first of the winter’s freeze where she should have been.
Abruptly, Emara sat up fully, her nest of black hair waving and tangling down her back. Even in her hollow state, there was something agonisingly beautiful about her. Something that he had never appreciated in a woman before now.
Even if they were just friends.
His throat bobbed as he watched her. “Are you okay?”
He knew it was a stupid question, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking.
“Even though I sleep continuously, I am exhausted.”
Her voice was so bleak that Torin shuddered.
Emara wrapped her arms around her legs, cradling her knees, and rested her chin on her arm. “Can you stay here until I fall asleep?”
Her voice was so tender and weak. It almost broke him. She hadn’t really spoken at all since the Uplift, mostly just incoherent sobs, so to actually hear her voice again caught him off guard.
He gave himself an internal shake before answering.
“Sure,” he replied, “I am not going to be falling asleep anytime soon.”
She finally looked over her shoulder at him, the skin at her back exposed from the night garment his mother had dressed her in, revealing a little bruising. Even though she had fought so fearlessly, she had been hurt. Slammed across the room.
His fists tightened again, thinking of her screams, the noise she had made as she hit the marble ground as the winged demon had batted her across the room. His eyes had always been on her as he’d fought his way through the crowd to get to her.
The gown she had worn to the ball was completely destroyed, so she now wore a plain beige nightgown, borrowed from his mother. As she faced him, her eyes explored his face underneath the dim light of the moon.
But she didn’t speak.
Torin swallowed, his heart rate accelerating.
When she slowly lay back down against her pillow, her hair swarming her face, he let out a long breath. Even though she had slept for the best part of five days, she looked depleted. The blotches on her face from crying were trying their best to settle into her skin, and she looked pale—so much paler than usual. Her glow was gone.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” Torin asked, his voice sounding croakier than before.
She shook her head against the pillow.
“There must be something.” He tried to let a smile warm his face, but he knew it wasn’t going to work. His face never could hide when he was angry or upset. Or feeling murderous.
“A little wine? Cheese and biscuits? I know it’s late, but you can't beat a midnight snack. Especially when it involves wine.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (Reading here)
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169