Page 143
Story: The Gilded Cage
Kiva’s fingers clutched at his chest, her breathing turning shallow.
Jaren angled his head to the side, his nose brushing hers. A quiet sound left her lips, the noise making his already-dark eyes darken even more, the gold rims like circles of fire in a twilight sky.
The sight was too much for Kiva, and she closed her own eyes, achingly aware of what he must be able to read in her expression.
His mouth moved back to her ear as he murmured there, “I know you’re scared.” He pressed a whisper-soft kiss against her neck.
Kiva whimpered.
“But I promise you don’t have to be.” Another kiss, this one at the edge of her jaw. “You’re safe with me, Kiva. You’ll always be safe with me.”
Her shallow breaths turned into panting.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Jaren whispered.
It took her a moment, her heart pounding, pounding,pounding,but when she looked at Jaren again, everything in her stilled at what she saw radiating from his expression.
And then sheerupted.
Kiva didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on hers, his hand tangling in her hair, his other arm drawing her chest flush against his. At the flick of his tongue, she gasped, her mouth opening automatically. He moaned as their kiss deepened, the sound causing her legs to buckle enough that his arm became a steel band around her waist, keeping her upright. She leaned her whole body against him, her hands sliding up his chest to his neck and into his impossibly soft hair, holding his face to hers, never wanting their kiss to end.
But then he shifted slightly, and the dagger at his belt dug into Kiva’s side, the jolt of pain enough that she drew back with a quiet,“Ouch.”
Jaren looked dazed, his hair mussed and eyes glassy, but with clear effort, he asked, “Are you all right?”
Unable to help herself, Kiva touched his face, tracing a finger over his kiss-swollen lips.
Heat flared in his eyes again, that same heat filling every part of her, but before he could lean toward her once more, she reached for his dagger, pulling it from his belt.
“Can we get rid of —” Kiva’s words halted as she stared at the weapon.
“I’m sorry, I forgot all about it,” Jaren said, prying the dagger from her suddenly numb fingers. “It’s ceremonial, something I’m encouraged to wear to formal events. The blade isn’t even sharp.” He ran his finger along the edge to show her what he meant.
But Kiva wasn’t looking at the blade.
She was looking at the hilt.
And at the clear gemstone embedded into it.
Kiva pointed a shaky finger at the jewel, a horrible feeling growing within her as she asked, “What is that?”
“Remember the Eye of the Gods? The gift they gave Sarana and Torvin?” Jaren tapped the diamond-like jewel. “It came forged into a dagger — so I guess a more accurate name would be the Dagger of the Gods, but that’s a bit morbid.” He cocked his head to the side. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Kiva shook her head. Then shook it again.
No.
No, no, no.
“This one is just a replica.” Jaren tapped the jewel again. “As I said the other day, Ashlyn has the real one.”
He was wrong.
So, so wrong.
Because Kiva had seen the real one.
In her grandmother’s cottage.
Jaren angled his head to the side, his nose brushing hers. A quiet sound left her lips, the noise making his already-dark eyes darken even more, the gold rims like circles of fire in a twilight sky.
The sight was too much for Kiva, and she closed her own eyes, achingly aware of what he must be able to read in her expression.
His mouth moved back to her ear as he murmured there, “I know you’re scared.” He pressed a whisper-soft kiss against her neck.
Kiva whimpered.
“But I promise you don’t have to be.” Another kiss, this one at the edge of her jaw. “You’re safe with me, Kiva. You’ll always be safe with me.”
Her shallow breaths turned into panting.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Jaren whispered.
It took her a moment, her heart pounding, pounding,pounding,but when she looked at Jaren again, everything in her stilled at what she saw radiating from his expression.
And then sheerupted.
Kiva didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on hers, his hand tangling in her hair, his other arm drawing her chest flush against his. At the flick of his tongue, she gasped, her mouth opening automatically. He moaned as their kiss deepened, the sound causing her legs to buckle enough that his arm became a steel band around her waist, keeping her upright. She leaned her whole body against him, her hands sliding up his chest to his neck and into his impossibly soft hair, holding his face to hers, never wanting their kiss to end.
But then he shifted slightly, and the dagger at his belt dug into Kiva’s side, the jolt of pain enough that she drew back with a quiet,“Ouch.”
Jaren looked dazed, his hair mussed and eyes glassy, but with clear effort, he asked, “Are you all right?”
Unable to help herself, Kiva touched his face, tracing a finger over his kiss-swollen lips.
Heat flared in his eyes again, that same heat filling every part of her, but before he could lean toward her once more, she reached for his dagger, pulling it from his belt.
“Can we get rid of —” Kiva’s words halted as she stared at the weapon.
“I’m sorry, I forgot all about it,” Jaren said, prying the dagger from her suddenly numb fingers. “It’s ceremonial, something I’m encouraged to wear to formal events. The blade isn’t even sharp.” He ran his finger along the edge to show her what he meant.
But Kiva wasn’t looking at the blade.
She was looking at the hilt.
And at the clear gemstone embedded into it.
Kiva pointed a shaky finger at the jewel, a horrible feeling growing within her as she asked, “What is that?”
“Remember the Eye of the Gods? The gift they gave Sarana and Torvin?” Jaren tapped the diamond-like jewel. “It came forged into a dagger — so I guess a more accurate name would be the Dagger of the Gods, but that’s a bit morbid.” He cocked his head to the side. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Kiva shook her head. Then shook it again.
No.
No, no, no.
“This one is just a replica.” Jaren tapped the jewel again. “As I said the other day, Ashlyn has the real one.”
He was wrong.
So, so wrong.
Because Kiva had seen the real one.
In her grandmother’s cottage.
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