Threads of Fate

Chapter 28 ~ The Voices That Drown Us

    She didn't get far before a hand latched onto her ankle. Tissaia gasped as a head appeared between her legs and she found herself seated on Azael's shoulders. She dug her fingers into his hair with a startled cry when he pushed up, lifting her out of the water. His hands gripped her legs, keeping her in place, but she didn't trust him for one moment.

    "Put me down!" She sputtered. "It's cold up here!"

    "As you wish," the Prince replied, then leaned backwards.

    She smacked the sides of his face by accident in her frantic efforts to grab onto him, but they were fruitless. Tissaia toppled off his shoulders and landed headfirst in the water. She recovered herself quickly and resurfaced, a curtain of dark hair shrouding her surroundings. Azael was already laughing as she picked at her hair, trying to clear her vision.

    She tensed when his calloused hand rested on her arm while the other parted her hair and smoothed it back for her. "What a very princely way to treat your betrothed," she chided, her teeth clicking together with a faint shiver.

    Tissaia went rigid when he moved closer, one of his arms circling around her to draw the last of her hair over her shoulder, letting it cover her back once more. Her lips parted breathlessly, their mingled scents flooding her nostrils. She shivered again, and almost without realizing it, found herself flush against him.

    Azael didn't seem to notice. His eyes were fixed on her hair, his fingers still combing through it. Tissaia drew shallow breaths, hardly daring to move. Her mouth ran dry as she slowly, carefully, lifted her hands from the water and let her palms rest against his chest.

    His warmth seeped into her, gradually driving away the chill she'd felt and leaving something else in its place, a burning ember in the pit of her stomach. This...this wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for her to be trapped with such emotions, knowing he didn't return them. Knowing that he never would. They would return to Arcan and it would be as it always had.

    Only now, she would have this memory. She would know what it felt like to be pressed against him and feel his heart racing in time with her own. She would know the sensation of his fingers in her hair, of his other hand that had found her bare waist beneath the water. She would remember this unfamiliar look in his eyes. Glassy, heavy. Branding her skin with its smoldering intensity.

    Tissaia swallowed once more, her eyes now stinging with emotion. This wasn't fair to her. She should stop it, now. But for the first time in so many years, she could feel him. And she could feel how much she didn't want to let that go.

    She drew a sharp breath and without giving herself a chance to hesitate, leaned her head forward. Her nose brushed his collarbone and Azael's breath faltered, his fingers digging into her waist sharply. Her lips parted as she simply breathed him in.

    A quiet sound shuddered out of him and Tissaia froze, but he didn't push her away. Her eyes flew wide as she felt him push his face into her neck, his breath scalding her damp skin. She arched into him on instinct, her throat bobbing around a thick lump that was hiding her voice.

    The hand on her waist drifted down, finding the center of her lower back and drawing her as close to him as possible. She could barely spend a thought in the hope that he didn't notice the ridged scars his hand was resting atop. Tissaia threaded her fingers through his hair, turning her face again so that her lips grazed his temple.

    Azael leaned into her as she brushed a few soft kisses in the spot. That small move emboldened her, and Tissaia lifted one hand to cup his cheek. His other hand found her wrist and wrapped around it, his grip strong, but gentle. He was being so gentle, remaining so still, like he was afraid to startle her.