He hovers right there and waits, our mouths so close it would only take a whisper of movement to connect us. All it takes is his nearness, his touch, and my blood simmers. Anticipation flushes my skin, and he strokes his thumb along my heated cheek but doesn’t take what I so desperately want him to.
My breath catches at the realization that he’s giving me the choice not just to kiss him, but to call our night in Samara an exception.
But it wasn’t.
Leaning up, I brush my lips across his, then kiss him gently as if it’s the first time. This isn’t heat and passion, though I know it will be in a matter of heartbeats. This is something else entirely. Something that scares the shit out of me, and yet I can’t bring myself to pull away, even in the name of self-preservation.
I’m choosing him, choosing us. There will be no calling this a lapse in judgment, or the result of too much adrenaline, or even lust.
I love him. No matter what he’s done or why he did it, I still love him, and I know he cares about me.
Maybe it isn’t love.
Maybe after all he’s been through, he isn’t capable of that emotion.
But I mean something to him.
He kisses me long and slow, like we have all the time we want, like there’s nothing more important in this world than the slide of his tongue against mine, the drag of his teeth across my lower lip.
It’s a bone-melting, intense assault on every one of my senses, and by the time he lifts his head, we’re both breathing harder.
“We have to stop, or we’re not leaving this room tonight.” He drags the backs of his fingers down my cheek and steps back when I force myself to nod in agreement.
I shake my head to clear it, and he moves toward the door.
Where the hell is he going?
“I didn’t ask him to help us yet for a reason.”
“Yeah. I gathered that.” Xaden pauses, gripping the door handle, and looks over his shoulder at me. “I’m with you. I’ll do this. But you have to know the consequences if he says no.”
My stomach pitches. Telling him will expose us…
“He won’t.” I’m sure of it.
Xaden dips his chin once, then yanks open the door.
Ridoc and Sawyer stagger forward, then slam into the wards and fall to the hallway floor.
My hand flies to my face as I smother a laugh.
“It’s soundproof when the door is closed, assholes,” Xaden growls. “And what the fuck is he already doing here?”
“He doesn’t know why he’s here,” Bodhi is saying. “I just ordered him out of flight lessons.”
I hop off the desk and hurry to the door as Ridoc and Sawyer pick themselves up and split, revealing Bodhi, Rhiannon, Imogen, and Quinn across the hall.
Aaric stands between them all, leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. “Figured you’d come for me sooner or later,” he says, his eyes narrowing on Xaden, shining with nothing short of malice.
The energy between these two is anything but good, which I should have expected. Xaden’s father started a war that Aaric’s father ended.
One by one, I pull them through the wards into my room, including Aaric, who hovers just inside the doorway, but I leave the door open in case anyone needs a quick exit. I turn to Aaric. “We need your help. And you can say no and walk away right now, but if I explain why we need you and you say no…” I drag in a shaky breath, reluctant to say what needs to be said.
“If we tell you why and you decline, you won’t be walking away,” Xaden finishes when I can’t.
“You think I’m going to lift a finger for you?” Aaric reaches for his sword hilt.
“Whoa, whoa!” Bodhi grabs for his sword, angling to step between them. “Everyone calm down.”
“You know what’s happening out there, and you came here for a reason, right?” I say to Aaric, putting myself in front of Xaden. “Help us do something about it.”
“You have no idea what he did to Alic!” he seethes.
“Your brother was a craven, murderous prick.” Xaden hooks his fingers into my waistband and tugs me backward, setting me slightly behind him before he shoves Aaric through the wards and into the hallway. “And I’m not sorry I killed him.”
Oh shit. I did not see that coming.
Three hours later, we’ve gone over the plan until we know not only our parts but everyone else’s, too. Bodhi’s had to step in between Aaric and Xaden twice, but we’re finally on our way to the Archives. Turns out the key to securing Aaric’s participation was noting that he’d be stealing from his father. An hour from now, we’ll either have retrieved the journals or we’ll be dead. The Archives aren’t kind to visitors after the vault-like door closes.
“You sure about this?” I ask Aaric quietly as we walk down the tunnel from the infirmary in pairs, eight of us covered in scribe robes embroidered with second-year golden rectangles. This entire plan hinges on him.
“Absolutely. The only person I hate more than Xaden Riorson is my father. Just keep your boyfriend the fuck away from me.” He stares straight ahead.
