Page 68 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

“What about the rest of my family? Theron and Lida and the others? Are they okay?”

“I don’t know. Your mother didn’t sound upset, so I think they’re fine.”

Kalie exhaled softly. “Thank the gods.” Frowning, she flicked at a spot on his jacket. “Is that blood?”

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing too major.” Zane stretched his legs out, and his breath seized as the bruises on his chest pulled.

She gave him a shrewd look, and Zane sighed. “Apparently, the stunt I pulled in the throne room pissed off the Feds.”

“Do you mind if I…?” She removed a tiny vial from her pocket and squinted. “It’s okul salve, I think. Selene slipped it to me.”

“You sure it isn’t poisoned?” The promised relief of okul salve made him shrug his jacket off anyway. It wouldn’t do anything for the bruises, but it would stitch up the cuts. “What happened between the two of you?”

Kalie shrugged. “Nothing. She came to the chapel, told me to come with her if I wanted to see you, and dragged me down here. She didn’t say anything else.” She drew her lip between her teeth as she gazed down at the vial of salve. “I think it’s her way of absolving herself of guilt. Or trying to.”

A blood-curdling scream blasted down the corridor, raising the hair on Zane’s arms and rattling the grates. Kalie huddled into herself. The noise sputtered out, but a louder cry rose like thunder, and cruel laughter followed.

“You should go,” Zane mumbled, though the thought of her leaving left him hollow and aching. “Leave the salve with me. It isn’t safe here. I can’t protect you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Kalie uncorked the vial, and the minty scent of okul salve wafted into the musty air. “I meant what I said during training. I don’t need your protection. I can make my own decisions.”

“And if that gets you killed?”

“That’s my choice.”

“That is not your choice!” Zane lurched to his feet, hissing as pain seared through his ribs and jarred his bones. He stormed to the edge of the cell and shuddered at the muffled cacophony of grunts and groans beyond. “I’ve failed so many times?—”

“Stop comparing me to Lysa,” Kalie snapped.

Zane whirled around. “I didn’t…”

She glared at the bloodstained wall. “We all make our own choices. She chose to save you. I chose to turn myself in. You chose to come after me.”

“Because you shouldn’t have come in the first place!”

“They have Ariah. Of course I came. And now that you screwed up my deal with Iliana, they might kill her!” Kalie’s cheeks flushed as her chest rose and fell rapidly.

“I didn’t come here to argue, but I want you to listen.

We’re willing to take risks for those we care about.

I won’t leave anyone else behind to die for me.

It’s no different from what you’re trying to do. ”

Zane sagged against the rusted bars. She had a point. He’d come back for her because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if she died.

If Lysa had left him behind, wouldn’t she be the one drowning in guilt?

Had that been her choice?

Kalie gestured to the bench. “We have five minutes until I have to go, and I intend to spend every second with you. So sit down, let me put the salve on, and stop wasting our time arguing about what can’t be undone.”

“So demanding.”

Her lips twitched.

Shuffling across the cell, Zane dropped onto the concrete slab. He tried to peel off his bloodstained shirt, but his shoulder blade cramped. He hissed through clenched teeth.

As Kalie peeled the hem of the shirt up, her fingers brushed against his chest, and chills crept across his skin.

Her touch was maddening, but he wanted more.

That moment at training flashed through his mind—how it’d felt with her silky hair twined in his fingers, how sweet her perfume had smelled, how he’d been aching to kiss her.

Stop it.

Zane let out a ragged breath.

Setting the shirt aside, Kalie tipped the vial over her fingers and let the clear paste ooze out of the glass tube. The minty scent of okul knocked into Zane like a pungent cloud, and he wrinkled his nose.

Clearing her throat, Kalie gestured at the vial.

Zane tried to speak, but he didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded.

As she smeared the cool salve across a deep, stinging cut, Zane shivered, clenching his fists.

Most of the scrapes were superficial, but the bruises throbbed.

The legionnaires had only attacked with their fists and feet, so in a way, he was lucky.

Still, fighting through pain always delayed his reaction time and dulled the strength of his blows.

Zane wiped his palms on his pants. He only needed to hold on until Kalie escaped.

“So you’re really doing this.” She smeared salve over a cut, and goosebumps broke across his chilled skin. “Iliana offered a county to whoever wins the duel for her. Her champion is Hewlett’s nephew Cleon. He’s the best duelist in Usias.”

“Let’s not talk about this right now.”

“Do you really think you can win?”

Zane swallowed. “I never planned to win.”

Kalie’s hands stilled over a livid slash. Her jaw hung open.

He grimaced and leaned towards her ear. “I’m only doing this to buy time for your father’s fleets. As soon as they get here, or if the duel goes badly, Ryker’s going to come get you. You have to go with him. Even if I’m about to die, I need you to promise you’ll go.”

As Kalie’s face reddened, she shoved him away. “You really are an idiot. Gods. I’m not leaving you.”

“Why?”

She looked away. Zane took the vial from her salve-coated hands and gripped her shoulder, but she didn’t look at him.

“Why, Kalie?”

Slowly, she turned to him. Even with her knotted hair, the mud-stained uniform, and the dark bags under her bloodshot eyes, she was breathtaking.

Her glistening eyes flitted to his lips, and she leaned closer, so close that their foreheads almost touched.

Zane drew in a sharp breath. The air was lined with the faintest whiff of fruity shampoo.

The aroma drove all thoughts from his mind, other than the maddening desire to touch her, to feel her, to taste her lips.

Kalie threaded her fingers through his hair.

He closed his eyes, and the cell melted away as she pressed her cracked lips to his.

The kiss was slow and soft, and it sent a surge of warmth jolting through him. Burying his hands in her silky hair, he pulled her closer. A nagging voice in the back of his head whispered that he didn’t deserve her, he’d never be good enough.

He ignored it.

He moved his lips gently against hers, trying to tell her without words how special she was.

How honored he was that she’d chosen him, and how he’d spend the rest of their time together making it up to her, if she’d let him.

She slid her arms around his neck, like she was claiming him as hers, like this kiss was the beginning of everything.

They broke apart. Kalie let out a breathless laugh, and Zane wrapped her tangled hair around his finger, sucking in shallow breaths.

Then the cell’s stench washed over him—metallic blood, musty mold, and the awful, distant odor of burning flesh. Sobs and screams drifted down the hall.

Zane’s smile slipped away.

“You don’t need me,” he mumbled. He wanted this desperately, but she’d said it herself: they couldn’t. Especially not now, when Mordir lurked on his doorstep. She’d be left broken and alone.

Kalie pressed her forehead to his. “But I want you.”

The words were like liquid fire, freeing the frozen parts of his heart, waking a hunger in his veins and a cry in his blood that demanded more, more, more .

Zane took a deep breath. “I thought you said we couldn’t do this.”

“I don’t care.”

His lips were on hers in an instant. Hungry. Desperate. He tugged her closer. As she straddled his lap and moved against him, fire burned through his body. His heart thundered, like it was on the brink of exploding. Slipping his hands under the fabric of her shirt, Zane caressed her bare skin.

Kalie shuddered and gripped his hair.

Moving his lips against hers, Zane let his hands spiral higher. His fingers brushed the curve of her bra, and she moaned into his mouth—then she pulled away. As she glanced at her wrist chrono, her face paled.

“We have time,” he murmured, tugging her back to him.

His rough calluses scraped her smooth skin, and Kalie gave a breathy moan that rocked through him like a rush of fire. More. He needed more.

Zane tugged her shirt past her bra. His lips crashed down, worshipping her neck, the hollow of her throat, her collarbone.

Her skin tasted of salty sweat. He was shaking, and she was trembling, and their hearts beat as one as their bodies moved together.

Her fingers plunged into his hair, and all logic and reason fled his mind as he gasped into her mouth and freed the button of her pants.

“Zane,” she panted, music to his ears, “Zane, they’re coming.”

Screw it, let someone find them like this. He’d trade his life to worship her, just once.

Then her words registered, and a pit plunged into his stomach.

Shifting her onto the bench beside him, Zane jolted to his feet. His pulse hammered as he crossed the cell, trying to shield her from view. Darkness spanned the length of the hallway, and awful screams wailed in the void, but no sign of black armor or glinting pulsers. Yet.

“Now?”

“Forty-five seconds.” Kalie buttoned her pants and smoothed her rumpled, muddy shirt. Marching across the room, she took his face in her cold hands. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Come back to me. Please. I’ll be there. Fight with everything you have, and come back to me.”

“Kalie—”

Selene’s voice hissed down the hall: “Kalista!”

“I have to go.” Kalie pushed the iron bars open. The hinges screeched, and Zane winced. She bolted through, but paused in the musty hallway beyond. “May Azura bless you. Oh, gods, Zane. You have to live. Come back.”

Loud, mocking voices drifted down the hallway, and the color drained from Kalie’s face. Zane opened his mouth, but she sprinted away.

Before he could speak, she was gone.