Page 49 of The Cinders

Xian barely moved except to part his lips.William led the way entirely and combined subtlety with command.His breath, warm of course, grew ever warmer.The press of his body against Xian’s was so heated there was soon uncomfortable dampness beneath Xian’s robe.His lungs ached with the need for air; shock robbed his mind of a way to breathe.The wooden beam at his back tormented every knot of his spine as William’s forceful presence pushed into him.

By all rights, Xian should have been terrified, and searching for escape.He put up a protest only once.Pulling William’s hand away when it sought to cup his scarred cheek.

The man obliged easily, showing no umbrage at being declined.

A tingling began in Xian’s fingertips, light at first, but rapidly intensifying into a pins and needles sensation.Now Xian sought to draw away, his head light, his body awash with heat.

‘What—’

‘Hold on.I told you it would hurt.’

William’s words were perfectly clear, even though his mouth was back atop Xian’s.

Before there was a chance to wonder at that, everything shifted.

The sharp prickling in Xian’s fingertips raced down the lengths of his arms, pressing a cry from his throat, a noise that William seemed to swallow as he worked his mouth over Xian’s own.

Arms afire, Xian struggled against William’s embrace, making sounds of protest against the velvet kiss.The man, the daemon, did not let him go.His hold was rock solid, irrefutable.And now, hot as embers.

Xian wriggled and squirmed and wondered if this was the moment he would join his mother and Mercy in the afterlife.

The fiery pinpricks scored their way through his torso, teasing at the scars already made by true flames, and pouring down into his legs.

Xian whimpered.Truly afraid.

‘Keep steady.These knots are tight.’

A flash, as though lightning had struck the room, then scalding memories joined the fire that spread through Xian’s body.

Memories his mind had shielded him from, now slipping through the cracks.

They have killed me, but they will not take you, my dearest son.

His mother’s voice filled his skull.The pressure of her body over his, driving him down.

I will give them no reason to hunt you, my bao bao huli.Forgive me, Xian, for what I take from you to save you.Forgive me.

A scream birthed in the pit of Xian’s stomach and rose like thefenghuang;the avenging phoenix tearing a path through his body.The cry burst from his lips, its strength sending the daemon hurtling backwards.

William Black landed hard on his backside, halfway across the room, his skirts pooling around him in a lake of mist-coloured satin.‘Fuck.’

Xian found himself on his knees, with no memory of falling there.He dripped with sweat, his hair clinging to his cheeks, and his breath escaping him in sharp gasps.

A knock came at the door, a muffled voice raised in concern.Xian was too exhausted to even raise his head.

‘Lady Margaret?Are you alright?’The enquiry was hesitant; the English stilted.

‘Do you servants never sleep?I am very well, I assure you,’ William spoke in Mandarin, but with a voice undeniably female, husky and rough with exertion.‘Go away.You are ruining a perfect moment, and I am not yet done.’

He got to his feet, fixing the wayward slip of his gown.

‘My humble apologies, my lady.’The quickened tap of retreating footsteps grew distant.

Xian raised his head, his sweat-covered body icy.

‘William,’ he breathed.‘You are…’

How did he describe such a thing?