Page 105 of Alchemised

Her clothes were slipping out of the way as he ran his hands along her ribs and waist, kissing across her breasts, body pressed between her legs. Her skirts sliding up as his hand trailed along her thigh.

It happened so fast. She’d never thought it would be something soft or slow, but it was more like a collision, like breaking across each other. The rush of skin and teeth as she let herself be consumed.

He sank into her, and her heart stopped, eyes going wide. She bit down on her tongue so hard she tasted blood, her eyes squeezed shut. He paused and kissed her, his lips so searing she felt it in her bones, and she nuzzled her face against his, but it hurt.

She’d known it might hurt if not done slowly, but she was glad it did.

Certain things were meant to hurt. She’d seduced Kaine when it was abundantly clear that this was a line he had no desire to cross. She had pushed and persisted and done it anyway, because she was desperate.

That should hurt.

His frame practically enveloped her, his lips nipping at her hairline. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tight against himself. She forced her eyes open, wanting a glimpse of what he felt in that moment.

Even now, his jaw was tense. His expression guarded. His mouth held in that hard, flat line.

But his eyes …

She could tell—

He was hers.

The realisation broke her heart.

Kaine dropped his head against her shoulder, moaning into her skin, pulling her closer, and then suddenly, it wasn’t merely a pleasure he was taking in her.

Heat came to life inside her, her sense of control untethering as it threatened to engulf her.

But shame and guilt rose equally quick, cold and bitter as seawater, until she was on the verge of sundering.

His body shook. He gave a low groan, slumping, arms still around her. His breath dragged across her skin as he panted, pressing a kiss on her bare shoulder.

Helena lay still, the weight of his body against her, suddenly aware of the cold radiating from the floor. The dirt and gravel and rough cloths that bit against her skin, rubbing it raw.

The only thing she could think of was how relieved she was that it was over before anything else had happened.

Even whores were not so low as to find pleasure in their work the way she nearly had.

She tried to lie still and not tremble. Kaine’s body and breath were the only warmth in that cold place. Then he went rigid and shoved himself away. His expression was drawn, and he didn’t even look at her as he scrambled off, pulling his clothes back on.

Helena slowly sat up, watching him because she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do.

He was growing paler and paler as he re-dressed. His expression disbelieving.

“Fuck—” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair before he pulled his shirt back on.

His breathing was growing unsteady. When his shirt was on, he fumbled for the buttons, and when he found some missing, he seemed blindsided.

He clamped a hand over his mouth as if he were about to be sick.

His throat dipped, and he closed his eyes.

He drew a deep breath before he turned to face her, his expression cold.

He only looked at her face for an instant before his eyes dropped down, and the little colour remaining in his face vanished.

“You—were you a virgin?”

Helena looked down. There was blood smeared at the top of her inner thigh. No wonder it had hurt.

She pressed her knees together instantly and shoved her skirts farther. “It was assumed that was how you’d want me,” she said, trying not to think about everything the question insinuated.

For a respectable girl to lose her virginity was to give up everything, a career, education, alchemy. Only virgins were given Lumithia’s grace. If Helena were somebody of note, Kaine would be expected to marry her now. An indiscretion like this was the reason for his parents’ marriage after all.

Clearly he’d never considered her as belonging in that category. Her lungs shrivelled inside her chest.

“I—” His voice failed him. “I—I would have been gentler—if I’d known.”

She drew her legs closer, as if being smaller would shield her from being so seen.

“I didn’t really want you to be,” she said quietly. Her hands shook as she tried to get her clothes back on.

His mouth closed then, and the room went still. She could feel the change in the air between them. But she didn’t understand why it mattered, why this was the line he’d drawn.

The array must be part of it. Just after he was healed and fully internalising its effects, he’d kissed her.

Wanted her. It had created a crossroads for him; that was why he’d stayed away for so long after that.

Perhaps giving in, even once, was enough to tip the scales.

Perhaps he couldn’t change course now; he’d made his choice.

Obsessive and possessive.

She had him. If she was smart enough to leverage it.

On his knees, ready to do anything, Ilva had said.

She still didn’t know how to do that, though. It wasn’t as if Ilva or Crowther would see any significance in the fact Kaine had finally slept with her; that was what they’d expected him to do from the start.

She was torn between the desire to laugh and cry, her mouth twisting in a grimacing smile.

“Well, you seem pleased,” he said in a bitter voice, his lip curling, “to have finally whored yourself.”

Her fingers froze, and the room went out of focus.

“That was my job,” she said. “You had to have known it was my mission.”

“Of course,” he said tonelessly, looking around the room as if he couldn’t quite believe he was there. His arms were hanging limp at his sides. “I just—I never thought you’d actually succeed.”

There was a pause while Helena finished dressing.

“I wasn’t going to betray the Resistance,” he finally said. “I was never going to. You were already losing when I made the offer, and you’re probably still going to lose now, but I never cared. I just wanted to avenge my mother.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line and looked down at the floor.

“Unfortunately, by the time I had an opportunity to offer my services, she’d been dead too long and there was the coroner’s report saying she’d died of natural causes.

What could I possibly have to avenge?” The bitterness in his voice and on his face was unadulterated.

“I knew Crowther well enough to know he’d only consider me as valuable as the strings he could pull, so I thought I’d give him a dead end to dig himself into. ”

Then his expression turned vicious and disdainful.

“I tried to think what could I possibly want from the Eternal Flame. A pardon, because it was as ridiculous as it was obvious. But the Resistance was losing, everyone knew you were losing. I knew I’d need a contact, someone who could retrieve messages for me and come when called.

I didn’t want Crowther choosing one of his rats, and I thought demanding someone specific would play into—what they expected of me. ”

He swallowed. “But the Eternal Flame’s noble families are too precious, I had to want someone they’d consider disposable, and Crowther was standing there, waiting for an answer.

I had to come up with something. I remembered your name, on the exam lists.

When I said Helena Marino, Crowther got this look in his eyes, and I knew he’d taken the bait. ”

He sneered. “As if I would betray the High Necromancer for you. I knew they’d send you with instructions to try to play up the obsession I was supposed to have—to ensure I wouldn’t get bored or change my mind—but I wasn’t worried.

You were no one, just an awkward shadow behind Holdfast, following him like a dog.

I thought it would be funny, watching you try. ”

He looked away from her then, his face twisting. “But you—you—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. You outmanoeuvred me. Or maybe I’m just too tired and grieving to keep pushing you away. You won.” He met her eyes for a moment, his expression bitter and derisive. “Well done.”

Then he went and leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes.

Helena watched him sceptically. She wasn’t sure what angle he was trying to play with this confession.

What he said about her was believable enough. It aligned with their inconsistent interactions, but to claim that avenging his mother was his true impetus? Avenging her for what?

“You switched sides because your mother died of a heart attack?” She gave a loud scoff, standing up, hiding a wince.

“Her death wasn’t anyone’s fault, and even if it was, did you murder Principate Apollo by ripping out his heart by accident?

Ran off with it and joined the Undying for three years, saw her die, kept going, and then what?

You got so melancholy because you can’t get drunk that you decided to turn spy? ”

She was baiting him. She knew it would enrage him. She hoped that if she goaded him enough, he’d finally tell the truth.

His eyes snapped open. They’d turned silver, and two splotches of colour flushed in the hollows of his cheeks. “Fuck you.”

She flinched but spat back, “You already did.”

Her back felt bruised, the skin rubbed raw from the floor, and her lower abdomen ached as if she’d been punched low in the pelvis. She’d never felt so cold as she did then, standing there, but she was so angry, and finally it was all out in the open. No more of this game.

“You are a monster,” she said, crossing her arms. “Do you expect me to forget what you’ve done?

To think you became so high-ranking because of that delightful personality of yours?

You think invoking your mother’s death can erase all that?

Everyone has lost someone, and most of them, more than you ever could.

If you want to blame her death on Morrough, then maybe you shouldn’t have spent all that extra time supporting him after she was gone.

After you started this war. And chose to become Undying. ”