Page 38 of Fate’s Sweetest Curse (Mirrors of Fate #2)

Satiation

Hattie

O h, please ,” I said, wrenching myself free of his grip. As much as his clenched jaw, bunched muscles, and growly tone felt like a wet finger sliding across my lower belly, I didn’t want to encourage that kind of behavior.

Who knew where it would lead?

“It was an accident,” I enunciated, pretending to be annoyed.

“ That was no accident,” Noble said, practically vibrating with rage. “That is the mark of a blunt weapon intended for you.”

“If you must know, I’ve been practicing sword training.”

“With whom?”

“I’m not sure I should say.”

“I beg you do,” Noble rasped, those green eyes cataloguing every part of my expression.

Feeling utterly exposed, I turned my back to him. “No.”

“Hattie,” Noble said softly, approaching me from behind. His fingers hooked under the fallen strap of my dress and slid the silky fabric onto my shoulder again, grazing the bruise in the process. “Please tell me.”

Goosebumps scattered across my skin like sparks, lighting up at Noble’s gentle touch.

Three fingertips. That was our only point of contact, but I could feel him looming behind me, feel the heat of his breath on the back of my neck, feel him noticing those goosebumps.

It took everything in me not to lean back against his strong chest and tug his arms around my middle .

This isn’t fair , I’d told him under the archway at Inver—but the blame wasn’t entirely his.

I could walk away.

I just chose not to.

“It was an accident,” I repeated to the flagstone path ahead of me.

“You don’t even like sword training.”

“I’ve actually been having fun,” I admitted.

“With whom?” he tried again.

“Not important.”

“You didn’t think to ask me?”

“Are you jealous ?” I glanced over my shoulder at him, my amusement dying when I saw the way he’d been staring at my bare shoulder: not with anger, but hunger.

He smoothed the expression quickly—but not quickly enough.

I turned away again. The sun was setting, splashing the glass panels of the dome with periwinkle and pink. The evening air was fresh, cool, and herbaceous on my tongue. “Oderin’s been training me.”

“Phina’s brother?”

“I asked her to see if he knew anyone who had time to train with me, and he offered to do it himself. It’s been a nice way to take my mind off things. Make me feel less…” I trailed off.

Noble’s fingers slid across my shoulder blade, following the edge of my strap, up and down. The contact was both soothing and mind-scrambling.

“Less what?” he prompted.

“Exposed,” I answered, wincing at my choice of words. “It’s eased my anxiety.”

“At night,” he concluded. “Your sleeplessness.”

“Yes.”

“So, it’s for self-defense.”

“Yes. ”

Calloused fingers slid over the bruise, featherlight. “Does it”—he cleared his throat—“hurt?”

“I’m fine , Noble,” I assured him.

I wanted to turn around, to look into his eyes again, but an intensity had entered this conversation that I wasn’t sure I could face head-on. He was so much easier to talk to when I wasn’t looking at his handsome face and the expressions that broke through his carefully blank features.

“Just fine,” I repeated more softly.

“Good.” His voice was a satisfied rumble in my ear. “Good.”

Except—I wasn’t fine.

I might’ve been fine physically, but inside I felt like a tangled skein of yarn.

Over the past two weeks, I had thrown myself into my studies and the unique mindlessness of sparring, but no amount of busyness had truly distracted me from the knots in my heart.

The constant questioning of what exactly Noble had meant under that archway.

I had intended to let it go, but who I was I kidding?

Even Oderin hadn’t believed my denial. I was sick of burying my curiosity—my urge to have an honest conversation with Noble—under the guise of practicality and safety.

Expressing parts of our history in mixed company could prove dangerous—but out here in the gardens, just the two of us, what was the harm in getting it all out in the open?

“Actually,” I blurted, and his fingers paused their slow perusal of my upper arm. “I’m not fine.”

“You’re not,” he repeated flatly. “Why?”

I spun around, suddenly needing to see him, needing to look up into those captivating eyes when I asked— begged —“What did you mean when you said I was wrong about how you felt back then? How you feel now ?”

His eyes widened slightly. With his arms at his sides, he looked… caught .

“How do you feel, Noble? ”

He placed his big hands on my shoulders, and for a moment I thought he’d lean closer—but then he turned me around again, so that I faced away.

“What are you—?”

“I can’t…” His voice was strangled. “I can’t stand you looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to break all the rules.”

I tilted my head, stealing another glance at him. He clicked his tongue, pinched my chin in his thumb and index finger, and guided my head forward again.

“Do you want to break the rules?” I asked.

Without answering, he released my chin, trailing his fingertips along my jaw, under my earlobe, to my nape. He stroked the top of my spine, sending a shiver all the way down.

My bodice felt too tight; I found it hard to breathe.

If he wasn’t going to talk, I would. “What are the rules, anyway? Other than a feeble attempt to maintain the distance that our guardians imposed upon us over a decade ago?” I asked.

“We aren’t kids anymore. Neither of us have to worry about our former stations.

In Fenrir Territory, we can be whomever we want. ”

He huffed a joyless exhale. “ Hattie .” He sounded patient, like he was humoring me. Be serious , that tone said.

I balled my fists. “You’re infuriating, you know that? You can’t just say you care about me, storm off, and never elaborate.”

Noble’s fingers paused briefly, then continued their slow, tantalizing perusal of my neck and shoulders. Innocent touches that made my mind go to more intimate places. My thighs tensed; my lower abdominals squeezed.

Oderin had been wrong about forbidden desire. This wasn’t exciting, this was excruciating .

But then Noble stepped closer, his chest grazing my back as he lowered his lips to my ear. “You want me to elaborate on how I feel about you?”

“That’s what I’ve been asking.”

His breath was hot. “You want to know how I feel, even if it makes everything about this worse? Unfair?”

I swallowed thickly. “Yes, Noble.”

“ Hmm ,” he rumbled, as if considering the notion. “How do I feel?”

The hand that had been toying with the edge of my strap slid sideways, pushing the fabric off my left shoulder again, exposing my skin from earlobe to upper arm.

I went motionless, breath caught somewhere between my mouth and lungs, waiting for…

for I didn’t know what. For him to do whatever he’d do next.

The anticipation did not prepare me.

Noble lowered his head, gliding the tip of his nose along the edge of my ear, behind my jaw.

Awareness sizzled under my skin, burning me with a furious flush.

His other hand—his right hand—found my hip, fingers digging in with a deliciously possessive pressure.

He inhaled against the side of my neck like he wanted to breathe me into his lungs, then something wet— fucking Fates , his tongue —glided along my pulse-point and down, until he buried his mouth against the crook of my neck.

A soft, pleasure-filled, confused little moan escaped me. It was my most ticklish spot—as he knew—but also one of my most sensitive.

My mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening, didn’t know how to make sense of it, especially not with Noble’s ardent mouth sliding over my skin, kissing my neck. All I could do was tilt my head, giving him better access, and he chuckled faintly at my transparent bid for more .

His lips were soft, reverent , the perfect contrast to the rough scrape of his stubble.

Another moan—louder this time—rose out of my chest. It was answered by one of his own, shockingly low and feral.

Hearing a sound like that come from cool, collected Noble made my heart tumble into my belly and pulse there, needy and desperate .

I leaned back into him, thoroughly enjoying… whatever this was .

Fates , I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Knowing would probably just sully it.

“How do I feel?” Noble mused against my skin, the deepness of his voice vibrating from his chest into my back.

“I feel like I’m starving, Hattie. I feel like I’m freezing.

I feel like I’m blindfolded. I feel like I’ve been living in a cold dark cave, hungry and hollow, and the only time I feel satiated or see the sun is when I’m with you. ”

I choked on another moan, stilling under his touch. My heart was beating wildly, frantically, like a bird trapped on the wrong side of a window, desperate to fly free. What was he even saying to me right now?

Everything I’d ever wanted .

“You sure hid it well,” I joked shakily, but it wasn’t very funny.

“I see you,” Noble went on, undeterred, “and I feel full and warm, and the world around me appears brighter and more colorful.” He pressed the statement against my shoulder with a kiss.

“You are a sunrise.” Kiss. “You are a rich meal.” Kiss.

“You are river water evaporating off my skin on a hot summer’s day. You are the summer itself. You are—”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned in his hold, gripped the back of his head with both hands, and brought Noble’s mouth to mine.