Page 18

MY YESTERDAYS. MY TODAY. MY TOMORROWS.

SERYN

H is throat bobbed, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “Ah, there she is.”

I smirked, backing away. He drew a dagger from his belt, raised one brow, and then swung his arm. I sprang away; my eyes glued to his every move.

His muscles rippled and bunched beneath his dark tunic. He jabbed toward me, and I blocked, pushing his forearm away with my other fist. We danced around each other, parrying and blocking one another, our weapons clashing and clanging.

I had honed my skills with a blade since our time in the Dormancy; muscle memory enhanced and responsive. Of course, Gavrel could best me if we’d been sparring with swords, but with daggers, we were equally matched.

As adrenaline surged through my system, months—nay, turns—of frustration condensed into this moment.

My pulse roared in my ears, a frantic drumbeat, as my vision tunneled and locked on the glint of my dagger.

Until all that was left was the burning need to defeat my opponent, the thrill of victory coursing through me.

Because maybe a win would momentarily offer me relief from the constant disappointment of not being able to tether my ember. Maybe it would make me forget my less-than-chaste thoughts about the man jabbing a blade at me.

A grin split across my face; I appreciated he wasn’t holding back. He trusted me.

A soft breeze caressed my skin, making me acutely aware of a bead of sweat that dripped down my temple. Gavrel’s eyes narrowed, a roguish smile dancing along his mouth.

Swiftly, I sliced my weapon through the air, the blade barely missing his tunic, and he jerked back with a wry chuckle. “One would think you’re trying to draw blood, Little Star.”

I beamed. “Never.” And then stabbed toward him.

Gavrel feinted left, spinning out of the way, his thick arm wrapping around my waist from behind me, and cold metal nestled against my throat. Stuck between us, my curls tugged at the back of my scalp. His face bowed, and his ragged whisper dragged across my ear. “Do you yield?”

Would I really give in to the man who had shattered my heart?

The one who lingered in my thoughts, refusing to fade away?

Perhaps .

The beginning of a growl caught in my windpipe as desire pooled between my thighs. “Never.”

Without thought, I flung my arm down, digging my nails into his upper thigh, precariously close to his manhood. A deep rumble vibrated against my back, and he pushed his hips into my bottom.

The blade at my throat drifted away, and my mouth curled. All at once, I dropped into a squat, kicked out my leg, and hooked behind his knees until he toppled onto his back. Swiftly, I straddled his waist, my blade pressed against his neck. “Do you yield?” I asked victoriously.

The clatter of metal against stone sounded as his hands bracketed my waist. Gavrel’s pupils dilated, and I swore I stared into the eyes of a wild beast. He licked his lips and gently raised his neck to my dagger’s edge. “Only to you,” he murmured.

My eyes widened, my mouth slackening until my bottom lip dropped along with my weapon. Clanging bounced against the rock and somber trees. The cacophony of croaking toads and chirping insects was suddenly overwhelming, accompanied by the faint caw of a raven flying overhead.

With each heartbeat, I bent forward as if the force of it drove my ribcage closer to his. As if his pulse called to mine, reeling me in.

Was he my captive, or was I his ? I thought as my hands pushed against the cool, damp rock on either side of his head. The chill sank into my skin. My face hovered a breath above his. “Damn it, Gavrel,” I breathed. “Why do you say such things?”

“You know very well why, Asteria.” His words were rough and barely restrained. His body practically vibrated beneath me, taut and rigid. The bite of his fingers moored me to reality when all I wanted to do was fall into this dream.

My eyes searched his, bouncing between the viridian depths. His nostrils flared, and his fingers twitched against my waist.

He would never lose control.

Unless I wanted him to.

And I was tired of holding back. Of the guilt and anger. Of denying whatever was resurfacing between us.

“Fuck it.”

My lips collided into his, swallowing his escaping groan as his arms immediately wrapped around my back, one hand tunneling into my hair.

His plump lips were as I remembered. Firm, but supple.

Our mouths left each other.

Joined once more.

Over and over again.

His tongue invaded my mouth, demanding that mine meet his stroke for stroke.

We were still sparring. His patience and mine finally snapped.

My thoughts tapered, senses spiraling through me and condensing. Teeth and tongue and lips journeying over every inch of his kiss. It was as if my mind were creating a map of his lips for the times I’d want to imagine them on me in the future.

As a molten shiver swept from my throbbing nape to my tailbone, I moaned. Or he did. I wasn’t sure as it vibrated through our mouths and where our chests connected. Our frantic heartbeats volleying against one another.

He sat up, my backside seated firmly against the hardness straining within his trousers. His palms dragged down my back, cupping my rounded cheeks, and I grabbed onto his nape.

I was going to incinerate.

Ancients, I wanted him. Needed him.

He tore his mouth from mine, breathing raggedly, and nipped at my jaw. “You taste like I remember. Fucking salted honey,” he rasped against my neck.

I stilled, a chill slithering over my heated skin.

Confusion and unmitigated guilt clung to my awareness.

Kaden had said something similar to me months ago.

But whatever was happening between Gavrel and me felt different.

More potent.

Its talons digging into my spine.

But Kaden …

My fingers flinched against his nape, and I untangled them as I slowly rose from his lap. “I’m … I’m sorry. I can’t?—”

“Don’t.” His hands gently rested on my hips as his eyes met mine, lips swollen. With a gaze that was soft and assessing, he pressed his fingers into my breeches ever so slightly, bringing me back to reality.

“This was a mistake. I … I can’t do this. Kaden … He said something about salted?—”

“Don’t,” he repeated, wincing as if I’d slapped him, hands dropping immediately from my body.

Although his tone was low, the sharp edge of it cut through me.

A shadowed look slammed over his face as he stood, brushing off his breeches and then picking up our weapons.

His movements were those of a well-honed commander.

Efficient and precise .

Perfunctory.

He slipped my dagger into the sheath at my hip, his emeralds digging into the ice that was surely coating my irises. “It wasn’t a mistake.” He moved toward our skiff bobbing in the muck. He gripped his broadsword, the sound of it scraping through the air as it slid into its leather scabbard.

“Gav, I …”

He looked at me, a look of utter resoluteness sweeping over his features. His jaw hardened into a square, its edges ticking near his earlobes.

I sucked in a breath, certain that he’d keep what he so clearly wanted to say tethered. That he’d walk away like he had all those turns ago. Keep his thoughts and feelings locked away—buried beneath his secrets—so I couldn’t reach him.

With my pulse slamming against my neck, he proved me wrong. All at once, he was in front of me. He cupped either side of my neck. Despite the barely contained restraint pushing at his tense muscles, his touch was gentle. So gentle, I thought he might be a figment of my imagination.

His nostrils flared. “I don’t give a damn what my brother said to you.

What happened between you two; it’s a memory.

I aim to be your today and every tomorrow after that.

” His eyes softened, and a fist full of fireflies fluttered through my belly.

He stepped back, and his fingers slipped from my skin.

The loss of them burrowed deep within my soul.

“What happens between us is entirely our own. No one else’s. ”

I blinked a few times, clearing away the fuzzy warmth. Unbidden, the memory of Gavrel tearing my heart out two autumns ago took its place like a bucket of iced water pouring over me. Ire bubbled up my throat, my eye squinting dangerously. “How dare you!”

He froze, eyes widening.

I poked my finger into his chest. It was like stabbing a rock wall. “How dare you say such things, you … you wanker!”

Tilting his head, he wiggled his jaw, but it didn’t rid him of the ticking along the hinge. Several wayward ebony strands fell over his forehead.

A sound of pure frustration reverberated in my throat as I squeezed my nails into my palms, preventing myself from swiping my fingers across his brow.

“My today? My tomorrows? How dare you so easily forget that you are the reason this”—my hand thumped against his chest and then gripped the fabric over mine—“was torn apart. You had me then. Until you tossed me aside.”

He stepped into my space, nostrils flaring. My body stilled, vibrating with anger and anticipation and need. I looked at him from under my lashes, fists clenching. Was that the sound of my heart or his thudding feverishly against muscle and bone?

His chest expanded as his gaze bore into mine.

Dropping his head, he sighed heavily before stepping back.

“I could never forget, Little Star.” The farther he got from me, the deeper the furrow between his brows dug into his skin.

“I destroyed what we had. I won’t deny it.

The memory of that look you gave me. That moment I ripped your heart— and mine —into countless pieces.

I felt your pain, and I knew I was the one who made you carry it.

I’ll regret it forever.” He rubbed his palm over his left breastbone, staring helplessly at my boots.

My skin warmed as if his palm was brushing over my sternum.

After a moment, his eyes met mine. “But I broke us because it needed to be done. And I’d do it again and again if it meant keeping you safe.

From Melina. From myself. From the fucking Ancients themselves if need be.

” He reached out and cupped my cheek. “So, yes, I do dare … because, at last, hope is within reach.”

Stunned, all I could do was blink.

He ran one hand through his hair and turned, climbing into the rowboat, holding it steady while I silently joined him. My blood raged as we paddled back, and my molars ground into one another as I chewed on the thick silence between us.

Aching remembrances crawled out of the shadows. I wanted to let the resentment go. Wanted to forgive Gavrel for breaking my heart. I yearned to trust him with it again, but I didn’t know if I could.

My infatuation with him had always simmered beneath the surface. What began as admiration and awe in my childhood had evolved into a deep well of pining during my adolescence. When the spring of womanhood finally effloresced, there was no doubt of my feelings for him.

And two springs ago, when he finally acted on his affections, I recalled his expression—so full of reverence and remorse—when he first called me Asteria . In that moment, I believed it to be true, as the stars finally shifted into place.

Until they shriveled that following autumn.

My fingers tightened around the oar, lips smashing together, as other thoughts weaved through my awareness. My mind spun through everything that had happened between Kaden and me. Everything that led up to us crossing that line between friends and lovers.

Guilt twisted like a knife in my guts. My situation with Kaden. My feelings—old and new—for Gavrel.

Each recollection was like one of Medusa’s snakes, threatening to strangle the others. I feared that if I looked at them head-on, I might turn to stone.

My heart banged against my ribs, and my ember hummed against my nape. I breathed in to the count of four, and then out again.

Slow down , I reminded myself. One thing at a time.

If I were honest, I didn’t entirely regret what happened during the Dormancy. At the time, I had wanted more with Kaden. But even without recalling half of our lives, something had been missing. I just … couldn’t give him every piece of my heart.

And that was all right.

A heavy sigh pushed from my lungs as I sat up and stretched my neck from side to side.

Kaden had said it himself. Don’t ever apologize for feeling . Irritation bubbled up my throat, and I scoffed.

When we found him, I’d remind that cur he’d said that. He didn’t get to make me feel awful for not reciprocating his affections. Not anymore. I wasn’t culpable for his emotions.

A grimace dug into my features. What is wrong with you? Your best friend is trapped somewhere, and you’re planning on tearing him a new asshole? Hasn’t he suffered enough?

Spiraling.

That’s what I was doing.

The vibration under my scar tapped wildly.

Bollocks . Hadn’t it had enough fun today?

I jabbed my oar into the swamp water, and mud splattered against the side of my knee. Huffing, I slapped at my pants, brown sludge staining the fabric.

I glanced behind me, and Gavrel raised his brows, tucking his still-swollen lips between his teeth.

He probably thought I’d lost my mind. Perhaps I had. At least, that’s what it felt like with all these unfettered thoughts and emotions bashing around my skull.

Tossing my braid behind me, I turned to face forward.

Fucking void, Gavrel.

My today.

My tomorrows.

The fireflies were back. Bumping into my guts and trying to light me up from the inside. I clamped my molars together, willing the creatures away.

I could barely handle the next minute. So, Gavrel would have to wait an Ancient-damned second while I pieced myself back together and worked through my yesterdays.

Breathe .