Page 26 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)
Eighteen
Herinor
The bonfire isn’t a joke. Honestly, I’m surprised the clouds haven’t caught fire the way the flames are licking at the sky. Speaking of flames.
It’s not easy to pay attention to Rochus’s stories about his childhood in the grain fields of Tavras and how he used to help with the harvest to keep in shape.
Silas and the rebel girl are dancing right in front of my nose, and it’s a hassle not to mock him for his clumsy attempts at charming her.
Well, perhaps it’s not my place to mock him since I haven’t even worked up the courage to ask Kaira for a dance while he took the chance with Gabrilla the moment the rebels joined us by the statue.
“I wish I could see the grain fields in spring one day,” Sanja muses. “Your descriptions sound too lovely, Rochus.”
The man shoves his hands into the pockets of his cloak. “Maybe when the little one is a few years old so he can enjoy it.”
It’s still beyond me why Rogue and Sanja risked letting the three new rebels in on their secret, but it’s not my place to judge.
“We’re not certain it even will be a he ,” Sanja reminds the man and Rogue whose eyes light up at the image of his youngling bounding through the grain fields.
Royad exchanges a glance with Rogue that informs me the two of them have had a conversation about this topic, and honestly, I’m not surprised. Royad is the kindest of us all and the best at keeping secrets. He’s always been.
From somewhere in the background, the fairy princess’s laugh draws my attention, and I can barely believe my eyes as I find Tori and her dancing closely by the fire.
Silver satin snowflakes dance along Clio’s lace-covered skin with every move, the fabric alive with the glow of the fire.
Astorian’s fingers linger lightly at the edge of her waist as they sway to the music, the general’s eyes glued to Clio’s face rather than the tempting landscape of curves and dips barely hidden by the dress she’s wearing.
Like the rest of us males, Astorian wears leather pants and boots, his bare chest covered in whorls of black paint that symbolize the smoke rising above the flames.
While for me, being shirtless used to be my natural state for millennia, Astorian seems not entirely comfortable putting himself on display.
Perhaps that’s why his cloak is still fastened at the front, the fabric merely swept back over his shoulders.
I try not to grin at the hint of discomfort I spot when he meets my gaze over Clio’s shoulder.
“At least you have a beautiful female in your arms,” I think at him, my gaze already scanning the garden for Kaira.
The general dips his chin with a satisfied grin. “Where is your beautiful female?”
Trying not to react to the emphasis of the possessive in his question, I get to my feet to have a better view of the space around the fire.
The last time I spotted Kaira, she was dancing with Ed, laughing and joking with the boy, and I chose to focus on Rogue and Sanja rather than watching her get cozy with the young rebel.
She was still wearing her cloak then, and I hadn’t wondered what she might be wearing underneath, but now that I’ve seen Clio, I can’t help but be curious.
The next time she spins past me, Ed is wearing his usual attire: woolen shirt and the new leather pants Astorian provided for all the rebels, but when my eyes land on Kaira, breathing becomes hard as an invisible fist punches me right in the stomach.
I can only see her from the back, but gods, I need to watch myself, or I’ll stand there with my jaw hanging open.
Delicate flames wind up her legs and around her hips, whips of them licking up her sides.
The curve of her backside is perfectly framed by shimmering orange and golden patterns, leaving near to nothing to my imagination, and her hair…
Like liquid chocolate, it drips down her back, sw aying in time with the music to expose parts of her shoulders and spine.
Every movement is graceful, fluid, like she’s become part of the fire herself.
For a long time, I just stand there and watch, drinking in the view of her while she’s unaware of my attention.
For once, she isn’t paying attention to her surroundings.
For once, she isn’t ready to pick through all our minds while we make plans to win this war.
For once, she’s so swept up in the moment that I can marvel at her without being caught.
“Seeing something you like?”
Damnit! Kaira isn’t the only one who isn’t paying attention. The Fairy Queen has snuck up on me and is now standing by my shoulder, a smirk on her face.
“Perhaps.” I can’t lie anyway, so what’s the point?
Sanja’s smirk turns into a knowing expression. “ Perhaps , you should let Ed know it’s time to take a break, then.” With a pat on my arm, she returns to Rogue’s side, the male winding his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest in a near-painful image of affection.
“All right,” I murmur to myself. “You can do this.” Steeling my spine for a blow of rejection, I walk up to Ed and Kaira and tap the boy on the shoulder.
“Time for a break.” I’m not ashamed to steal the Fairy Queen’s words at all since, in the thirty feet from the statue to the dance floor, I wasn’t able to come up with something better.
Ed takes one look at me and drops Kaira’s hands before stalking away. I’m almost sorry for him—almost. Until Kaira turns around and my tongue decides it no longer wants to work .
She’s beautiful. A goddess of fire wrapped in flames of lace and silk.
Unable to produce a sound, I reach for her hand and lead her in a half circle until we stand face to face, and she glares at me from kohl-lined eyes.
“What are you doing?”
I take a shameful amount of satisfaction in her breathless tone and the thought that it might be because she just took more than three heartbeats studying the patterns on my chest.
“Dancing with you.” Why it sounds like a question might have something to do with my dry mouth and tight throat.
The fact that she’s frowning doesn’t chip away at her allure, even when she decidedly stops moving at all, leaving me the only one swaying. Her hand, however, remains in mine.
“We’re not dancing.” I pretend not to be distracted by the challenge in her fiery eyes.
All right. If she wants to play the game, I’ll play. “Whatever you say, Flameling.” Instead of stopping, I lift her hand above her head and walk around her in a small circle, pretending she’s spinning when it’s actually I who does all the work.
Kaira, not pulling back her hand, gives me enough confidence to meet her gaze when I arrive in front of her once more.
“We might be dancing if you’d asked me if I wanted to rather than scaring away the kind human boy.”
She has a point there, but Ed is chatting with his father and Royad, not even glancing our way. “I think he’ll be fine.”
The way the Flameling looks at me makes me guess she wants to stomp a foot. “It’s not about whether he’ll be fine. ”
Gathering my courage, I lean forward as if I’m about to share a secret, and guardians, she sways an inch toward me like she can’t help it. “The question is, will you be fine if you dare dance with me, Flameling.” A challenge of my own, and knowing Kaira, she won’t back down.
Her other hand grabbing for mine proves me right, and my heart pounds a few rapid beats as she steps closer until only a few inches remain between us.
“Wrong, brute. The real question is whether you’ ll be fine if I dance with you.
” With those words, she slides one hand up my arm until it rests on my shoulder, her head tilted back so she can stare me in the eye like she’s sizing me up for a fight.
My cloak suddenly feels too heavy and the air uncomfortably hot, and it’s not the warmth of the fire.
Her throat bobs as she waits for me to make a move, and gods, I’m ready. Ready to do so much more than dance.
Swallowing all the thoughts of what it would feel like to kiss the slight smirk off her mouth, or to trace the patterns on her dress with my lips, I hold her gaze. She might not be backing down, but neither am I.
“Then I guess we’ll need to see.” Being locked up in a forest did wonders for my self-control, so when I place my hand on her waist, a smirk of my own is all I let show of how satisfying it is to finally be this close to her under circumstances different than her almost dying or her interrogating me with her fingers on my temples and her mind digging through mine.
She moves like a dancer, light and graceful, as I lead her into a turn, filing in behind Myron and Ayna, barely noticing the Crow Queen’s lace and feather dress and Myron’s painted torso.
All I see is the Flameling in my arms, the wild tangles of hair flowing like a banner behind her as I spin her around.
Not to speak of the moment her body clashes with mine when I tug a tad too hard so she can’t stop her spin without my help.
Kaira flashes her teeth, and I’m ready to kiss that defiance right off her face. But I don’t. I won’t push her or force her or even expect anything of her. We’ll see who’ll come out of this dance triumphant, and if it’s both of us, all the better.
I don’t give either of us time to think.
This is a celebration, so I celebrate. I sweep Kaira into one turn after another, not taking my eyes off hers as we spin around the fire.
The flames paint her features in patterns of light and shadow, bringing out her high cheekbones and the cut of her chin.
A small dimple I never noticed sits in the middle, getting more pronounced as she purses her lips.
If she is getting tired, she won’t let it on, but the beads of moisture on her temples tell me I can indeed make her sweat.
She’s not the only one, though. My cloak has become suffocating, so I direct us toward a tall granite block at the edge of our dance floor, carrying the statue of a female with striking resemblance to the fairy queen.
There, I pause just long enough to untie my cloak where it’s laced at the collarbone, and toss it onto a stone bench a few feet away, but it’s enough to give Kaira the chance to step away and look me up and down as I reveal the patterns of black paint rolling from my abdomen over my chest all the way across my shoulders and down my back and arms. My hair is tied back for once, a measure I took to keep it from smudging the paint on my neck before it could dry, and I didn’t bother to remove the leather tie.
I don’t even allow myself to scan her front, or I’ll never make it back to the dance floor. A familiar image of me shoving her against a wall flashes through my mind, but this time, it’s not because she’s driving me insane.
“What are you thinking?” Kaira’s voice is breathy, her chest rising and falling in rapid movements—and yes, I dared look this time—as she waits for my response.
It’s tempting, but—“I’d rather not tell.”
Kaira’s lips curl at the sides, gaze heating as she lifts her hand and places it on my chest.
I don’t even get to decide whether I’m shocked or delighted at the searing sensation running through my entire body at the touch, before she pushes me toward the statue.
And, fuck me, I let her. Obediently, I take a step backward, then another, until my bare back meets frosty granite.
When I shiver, it’s not from the temperature of the stone; it’s the fire dancing in the Flameling’s eyes as she rises to her toes and closes the gap between us. “I win.”
And then she kisses me.