Page 55 of The Unbound Witch

I looked back to Raven, standing with Grey on the street. Nym followed my gaze.

“She's brave. Showing her face around here. Even with Grey, half the witches want to see her hanged.”

“No one knows the truth, Nym. And if they come for her, I will personally kill them all. I have nothing left to lose.”

Her voice was quiet. The conviction, faint. “You have me.”

“I will not hold you to drunken promises we made to each other before ... before I died. You deserve so much better than this,” I said, flourishing my hand.

She set her jaw, staring at me. “Your heart may not beat, Kirsi, but your soul is the same.”

All the moments we'd stolen in the Chosen's hall in the black castle, the dances the night at the ball, the time we'd shared on All Hallows Eve had played through my mind on repeat during the nights while the others slept. The way her hands felt on my body, her quiet whispers and soft pants as I tasted her. Nym gave me life then, and even now, I could feel a hint of that.

“I'm still an asshole,” I promised. “Ask Grey.”

She laughed, all traces of sadness gone. “I don't need to ask the king's cousin. I would expect nothing less from you.”

“Where did you want to go? I think Raven and Grey have some business to sort. I have an hour.”

“Not nearly long enough, but I'll take it.”

23

KIRSI

Ifollowed my golden witch through the black stone streets, making eye contact with Raven one final time. She knew. And the eyebrow wiggle from Grey was enough. The Fire Coven’s ground was nothing but soot and ash. It'd been that way for as long as I could remember. Unless one was locked in the castle, as the Chosen were, the bottoms of the witches’ dresses and soldier’s boots were always black. At least it was harder to see the mess in the black castle. A blessing for the workers, I supposed. But here? There was a shared sense of happiness and peace among the witches I'd never seen before. Especially with the shifters intermingling, shopping the surplus of wares and holding casual conversations. Witches and shifters could live in peace. Bastian's dad had ended a war on that principle alone. And I needed to hang onto that as I followed the little witch in front of me, looking back over her slender shoulder from time to time with a smile, just to make sure I was still there.

Eventually, we stopped at a small gathering of crowded thatch roof huts.

“It's not much,” Nym said, pulling the door open. “But it's home for now. And it looks like someone decided to join us.”

I turned, the faint glow of my ghostly form lighting the black kitten that followed us, his eyes on me, hackles raised.

“Oh, Scoop, stop being a dick,” Nym said. “That's your witch.”

I snorted. “I wish.”

“You are still his, and he is yours. I won’t argue with you about that. Your souls are connected, and that’s that.” She pulled at the strings of the leathery corset around her waist.

My eyes dipped low, the longing I felt suffocating. “You know we can't...”

She moved in so close I ached to kiss her. To actually feel those lips that had been my undoing. “I’ve loved you and lost you, and missed you more than I could ever find words for. Whatever patience this world demands from me, I will endure. Maybe we just need a little practice.” She slid the tips of her fingers over my lips. “Can you feel this?”

I closed my eyes, wishing so badly that I could. “No.”

“Pity.” A sly tone graced her smoky voice.

She slipped out of her boots and set them at the foot of the makeshift bed, which was really just a pile of blankets thrown on the stacked rugs covering the ground.

“Kiss me, Kirsi. Relieve me of this desolation that has been full of only missing you.”

“I can't,” I whispered.

“You can.”

Her faith had given me more than I could have hoped for. Even when I didn't love myself, she'd been there. Waiting.

I pushed forward, concentrating as I caressed her cheeks, ghostly fingers brushing bare skin. She gasped. I closed the space, pressing my cool lips to her heated ones. Closing my eyes as I focused on touching her. Feeling her. Letting her feel me. Passion erupted. It worked. I don't know what the rules of the wraiths were, but in all these days of no sustenance, no pleasure, mine was here. Before me. Moaning as our tongues caressed each other.