Page 35 of King of Ashes (Kingdom of Sinners #4)

“Where were you sneaking away to the other night?”

I laugh again, and he doesn’t like it if the flash of anger in his eyes is any indication. “Not to see a lover. Why are you so intent on believing that?” I start to walk away, tired of this game we play.

His jaw tightens as he reaches out to take my arm, preventing me from moving. “Where were you going?”

Incensed, I stare into his blue eyes. “To see Brigit. To make sure she was okay.” There’s no reason to hide my intentions that night any longer. He knows she’s here. He made her a sandwich, apparently.

He releases me, surprise etched in his expression. “Why hide her? Do you think I’d hurt a child?”

I throw up my hands in exasperation. “The house was invaded, Phoenix. Guns firing. People were dying. Of course I’m going to put her somewhere safe.”

“Right.” He steps back as if he only now realizes the implications of what he did. He takes in a breath. "Brigit. Your parents asked about her. They seemed… unusually concerned for her wellbeing. More so than for yours, actually."

I force a casual shrug, though my mind is racing. I can only think my parents are trying to figure out a way to use her to save themselves. All the more reason to get her out of here and away from all of them. "She's their god-daughter. They've always been fond of her."

"Is that all she is?" His eyes narrow slightly. "Just their god-daughter?"

"What else would she be?" I counter, hating the lie, the only real lie I've told him since his return.

Phoenix steps closer. "I find it strange that your parents would express such concern for a child who isn't even theirs while barely asking about their own daughter."

I let out a humorless laugh. "You want me to explain the inner workings of my parents' minds? I can't. You should know that better than anyone."

His expression remains skeptical, and I feel panic rising. I need to divert him, quickly.

"How many times did I tell you how unhappy I was with them? How many nights did I cry to you about their coldness, their control? And if not that, their indifference? I was invisible to them if I wasn’t of use to them."

Phoenix's expression softens slightly at the reminder.

"You promised to take me away from them," I say, the memory still painfully vivid. "Do you remember? You said once you finished college, you'd come for me, and we'd build a life together far from both our families."

I see the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the memory hitting home.

"I remember.”

"Then you understand why I can't explain their priorities or their concern for Brigit over me. They've never put me first. Not once in my entire life. Hell, they gave me to you in exchange for their lives. And you agreed, not because you want me like you once did. No, I’m a pawn to you just as I am for them. So who’s really betrayed whom here, Phoenix? "

“I suppose we both have reasons to resent the other.”

“You think?” I’m so tired of all this.

“I meant what I said before about creating a workable marriage.”

“And I’ll do what I can. I know my place. My role.”

Frustration flickers in his eyes. “I don’t mean that.” He lets out a breath, his gaze lingering on my face in a way that makes my traitorous heart skip a beat. "Do you think we could ever get back what we had? Not just the arrangement we have now, but what we truly had before. The love."

The question catches me completely off guard. After everything, the humiliation, the accusations, the forced marriage, he's asking if we could rekindle what we once shared?

Is that what he wants? Or is this a ploy? "I don't understand. You've made it clear how you feel about me. About my family."

He steps closer, close enough that I can smell his cologne. "The other night together… Was that just compliance? Or was there something real between us?"

My pulse quickens as I remember the heat of his skin against mine, how for those brief moments, I'd let myself believe we were the people we used to be.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I answer honestly. "One minute, you're treating me like the enemy, the next, you're in my bed. And when it’s done, you’re accusing me of being with another man. How am I supposed to know what's real anymore?"

His jaw tightens slightly. "I'm asking what's real for you, Keira."

The question sends a wave of conflicting emotions through me. What's real? The love I never stopped feeling for him, even when I thought he was dead? The hurt and betrayal when he returned only to punish me? The fear I feel every day for Brigit's safety?

"What does it matter what's real for me?" I finally ask. "Is this just another way to punish me? To make me admit I still have feelings for you so you can use them against me?"

Phoenix's expression shifts, something like pain flickering across his features. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I don't know what to think anymore. You say you want to know if we could get back what we had, but I don't even know if you actually care about me. Or if I'm just a means to an end."

Phoenix's hand rises slowly, hesitantly, before coming to rest against my cheek. His touch is gentle, so at odds with the harshness he's shown since his return. I should pull away. Every rational part of me screams to step back, to protect myself from falling into this again.

But I don't move.

"Keira," he whispers, my name a caress on his lips. His thumb traces the curve of my cheekbone, and I feel myself leaning into his touch, betrayed by my own heart’s memory of him.

"Phoenix…" I want to pull away, but my eyes flutter closed as I savor his touch.

"Keira…" His voice is rough with emotion. His lips find mine. Unlike our previous kisses since his return, hungry, angry, punishing, this one is achingly tender. It's the kiss of the boy I fell in love with.

I know I should stop this. There's too much at stake. Brigit, my parents, my own heart. But when his arms wrap around me, pulling me against the solid warmth of his chest, I'm lost.

My fingers tangle in his hair as the kiss deepens, years of longing and grief pouring into this one reckless moment. His hands slide down my back, lifting me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the desk.

Papers scatter as he sets me down, his mouth never leaving mine. I pull at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine, to reclaim some piece of what we once had.

My fingers glide over a bandage. I stop to look at it and then him. “You’re hurt.”

“Some of your father’s friends paid a visit.” His eyes narrow, studying me.

I feel it then, the doubt he has about me. “You think I sent them?” I release him, wishing he’d step back.

“No. But I wonder if you’d be okay if they’d succeeded.”

I close my eyes, hating this world I was born into. “Why do I let this happen?”

“What?”

“Give in to your touch when you think I’m a monster. You had your brothers’ sisters question me, but you don’t believe their report. You only believe what you want. That I’m a whore and—” God, I can’t go on.

“Keira.” He uses the crook of his finger to lift my chin. I want to refuse to look at him, but then again, I don’t want him to think I can’t stand up to him.

“You’re under the mistaken impression that you’re the only one who is helpless against the onslaught of past emotions. What we had was real?—”

“Then why ask me?”

“I guess I needed to hear it.”

“Yeah, well I could hear it too.”

His smile is soft as his gaze drifts to my lips and then back up to my eyes. “It was real. And despite everything, the power of what we had still radiates between us. It’s pulling us together even though we both have doubts now. Our situation is different now.”

I nod. “So, what do we do?”

“Honestly, I don’t know except that in moments like this, I want to give in to it. I think maybe you do too. But if you don’t…”

Push him away. Tell him no, you don’t want this . But he’s right. The desire to feel what we had ten years ago is too powerful to let go of. Despite the pain it will bring. Despite the fact that it’s a memory, not real now.

“I do too.”

Something like relief flashes in his eyes before he captures my mouth again. His hands push my dress up my thighs, and I let go. I’ll regret this later, but for now, I’m going to relive the wonder of us.

We move together with desperate urgency, as if trying to erase the decade that separated us, the betrayals, both real and imagined. For these stolen moments, there is no revenge, no secrets. It’s just Phoenix and Keira, finding their way back to each other.

My body remembers him, every touch, every caress. I arch against him as his hands slide beneath my dress, tracing patterns on my skin that make me gasp his name.

There's an urgency between us, a need that transcends the anger and betrayal. But then he slows, his lips against my neck.

“Not here,” he growls, lifting me and carrying me to the bed.

He lays me down gently, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes my clothes.

His touch is reverent now, almost apologetic, as if trying to erase every harsh word, every cruel action since his return.

The vulnerability in his gaze undoes me completely.

He’s back. The man I've mourned for ten years is here with me now.

Deep down, I know he’ll be gone again, so I do what I can to live in this moment. My hands roam his body, rediscovering him. He’s broader, more muscular than before, and yet the same.

"Look at me," he commands softly, and I open my eyes to find his face above mine, his expression raw with emotion. "I want to see you."

I reach up to touch his face, tracing the lines that weren't there before. With our gazes holding, he enters me. Emotion overwhelms me with the sense of rightness, of having what I lost back with me.

“Keira.” His voice has the same reverence as his touch as he moves. Slow. Controlled. As if he wants this moment to last forever. I know I do. The more the pressure builds, the more I’m desperate to hold off the end. To make this moment last.

We move together, finding our rhythm as if we'd never been apart. Every thrust brings us closer to what we once were and yet, I know it’s a fantasy. We’re living in the past. Soon, reality will return. But until then, I hold on to him, move with him.

I think of the words I wish I could say, like how I never stopped loving him. Like how I wish we could have what we had ten years ago, even as I know we’ll never have that again.