Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XXXIX. New Horizons

Crack! Alia's head hit the floor hard enough that stark white lightning shot across her vision, leaving green spots that spun lazily about in the thick darkness. The warmth of skin and panting breath and tangled blankets surrounded her, but she couldn't focus on it. Fire shot through her shoulder joint and throbbed deep in her wrist, crushed against the wooden floor. Kit! she tried to yell, not knowing what was happening, but instead a wordless, anguished squeal tore out of her throat.

All at once, the pain stopped--the hand on her wrist released it, and her arm was back where it was supposed to be. Alia realized she was shaking, panic receding slowly. She still couldn't see a thing, but the presence that loomed over and pressed against her was Kit. It had to be. Only Kit.

A familiarly gruff noise emanated from just above her head. Kit clearing his throat. "I, um, you startled me," he said lamely, hoarse whisper impossibly loud in the blackness.

Alia went limp, relief flooding through her limbs. Her pulse thudded loudly now, impact tangible in her chest, legs, and aching head. Suddenly conscious of the warm, male body pinning her to the floor, she weakly tried to wiggle away--to no avail. She tried to turn sideways, sitting up, but it just curled her in against what had to be the muscles of Kit's chest.

For one stupid moment, she thought her pulse had doubled--but no, that had to be his heartbeat, thudding under her ear at twice the rate of her own. "Kit--" she said, cutting off when her voice wobbled with the threat of tears. She gulped air, then tried again. "My head-- You hurt me."

Alia's tone was whiny and plaintive and the words weren't what she had meant to say at all.

In response, Kit said something fluid in a language she didn't know. It was a barely a breath, so quiet she wouldn't have heard if they were more than a handspan apart. Then all at once she was moving again--gently this time--being lifted and rolled over til all at once she settled. On top of him.

Her breathing accelerated in a new kind of panic as she took a quick inventory. Though she could see nothing, she could feel their legs all tangled together in a knot of blankets, and the intoxicating warmth of him spread through her torso. And lower, against her stomach, was that--parchment and ink don't think about it don't think about it!

Kit cleared his throat again, startling her when the rumble moved through her body as well. "Sorry," he said again, sounding stilted. "Guard's reflexes."

Alia took a breath to speak, then stopped abruptly. Trying to ignore the way her cheek and chin were pressed up against the warm fabric of his shirt, she tried again and was more successful. "I didn't mean to--"

The Hero cut her off, sounding much more like himself. "Of course you didn't," he said smoothly, every word a faint sensation in the places where their bodies met. His voice was honeyed and charming, suddenly effortless. "What is it? Change your mind about passing the time?"

Passing the time? What? Then, abruptly, she remembered his old offer and felt hot blood light her cheeks up like two coals.

For an endless, silent moment, she considered it--really, truly thought about moving forward and letting her mouth land on his. She wanted to so badly it was a physical ache in her chest. But then she took a breath and reality intruded--the sharp, stabbing pain still emanating from the side of her head, the sour sleep-taste in her mouth, the thick press of the pitch-black hold all around them.

"Gods," she said--and instead of sounding like the rebuke it was meant to, it came out breathy and yearning. "Not right now, Kit." Alia fumbled to correct her speech, trying to make it sound less like she was actually considering it. Right now? she asked herself, wincing. Not later either, you idiot. "The light," she added stupidly. "The candle is used up."