Shadowburn (2)

Chapter 39

The world was dark and cool, quiet outside the windows, when Sin's internal clock woke her from slumber, exactly two hours before dawn. She sat up slowly, careful not to wake Scotty, and smiled at his sleeping form.

Then she slipped out of the bed and dressed, quickly and quietly, braiding her hair in a rope down her back as she stood at the window, staring out into the darkness. The moon had set, but the stars had not yet faded, leaving everything shrouded in gloom and shadow.

This was her favorite time of day, the hours between the night's end and the dawn's rise. The early hours.

A flash of color caught her in the reflection of the window, and she glanced at her hand, smiling at the ring on her finger. Never in all her life had she imagined that she would be married--let alone happily. She had always expected to be alone, not just because of her curse but because there was no one in the world capable of understanding and accepting her.

She'd been right--there was no one in her world capable of it. But Andreas was not from her world. He was her world.

She turned away from the window, her booted feet silent on the carpet as she walked back to their bed. He was still asleep, his expression almost childlike, soft in the gloom. She kissed his forehead softly, barely touching him so as not to wake him up, and then straightened, turning to leave.

But an arm snaked around her waist and suddenly she was tumbled down onto Andreas' chest as his mouth met hers. She groaned into him, kissing him fiercely.

A second later, she was below him, his body stretched over hers, and she pulled back enough to shake her head at him. "Fenghar. You weren't asleep at all, were you?"

"You didn't think I'd let you get away without kissing you, did you?" Even though he ignored her question, there was no sleep in his voice, and that answered it well enough.

She hit his head. "As I said, fenghar."

He snatched her wrist and pinned it above her head. "That's not nice," he said, and she arched a brow at his teasing tone.

"I never claimed to be nice."

He nipped at her bottom lip, and she tried to stop the flood of desire rushing through her because she did not have time for this.

"You have about an hour before you need to leave, right?" His tone was low, a sensual caress against her skin.

She groaned again. "No, no, I don't. I have to get things together--we need provisions and I need to--" his lips grazed over hers, interrupting her.

"What do you need?"

She hissed at him. "I need to use Thorn's blood for my Inkflare because--"

"Use mine," he said, cutting her off again as his lips brushed over hers.

"How is that supposed to work? You don't have a drop of Ember in your veins, it'd be as bad as using mine."

"No, but apparently there is some divine mojo in my blood. Wouldn't that make your Inkflare even stronger?"

She tilted her head in thought. "I've never thought of that before, actually. It'd be worth a try..."

"You see? That's why you have me. Now, if there is nothing else...?"

She sighed, tugging on his hair. "It still takes time, Scotty. Why do--"

"Uh huh," he murmured, and kissed her. She made a muffled sound of protest, but couldn't help the way her body responded to his. Gods, one touch and she wanted him so badly she couldn't breathe.