Finale (Caraval 3) - Page 85

“Tella—” The word was a plea, and she couldn’t tell if it meant he wanted her to stop or keep going. But she sensed that he still didn’t believe her.

Her heart raced as her fingers slowly traveled to his jaw. Usually his skin was smooth, but tonight it was coarse, rough against her palm as she cupped his face and tilted it so he could only look at her.

“I think you’re spectacular, Legend, and I want to spend an eternity with you.” She leaned up and slowly brought her mouth toward his.

Legend was still, but he let his lips brush against hers once. “You really mean this?”

“More than I’ve ever meant anything.”

His eyes closed. Then his arms were around her. He picked her up in a rush, laid her on the massive bed, and took her lips with his again. The mattress beneath them was soft, but everything about Legend was solid. When his tongue slid between her parted mouth, he tasted like the ocean air that slipped in through a cracked bedroom window, salty and tempting and untamable.

Her hands explored the smooth expanse of his back, while his mouth left hers to find her neck. He pressed a more delicate kiss to the base of it, making her shiver everywhere, before his lips continued down. His tongue darted out, softly licking her skin, tasting her as he trailed kisses over the column of her throat, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss.

It was gentlest way he’d ever kissed her, and yet there was something even more intense about it. As if, despite what she’d said, he didn’t believe her, as if he still didn’t think they had a future, but he was determined to hold on as long as he could.

“I don’t deserve you.” His hands lowered to her calves, bunching the fabric of her dress up toward her thighs.

“Yes, you do,” she whispered. She could barely remember how to breathe. His movements were confident and intentional. He knew where to touch and what to do.

But when he dared a glance at her eyes, he looked terrified. “Tella, I don’t want you to do this because you feel pressured.”

“I’m not sure which part of this you’re talking about. But I came to you. I don’t feel anything except how much I want to be with you. I gave you my heart when you kissed me at the fountain, and I’ve never t

aken it back. I love you, Legend.”

His body froze above hers.

Damn the saints! She cursed herself as well for letting the words slip out.

Before she could respond, he was off the bed and halfway across the room. “We have to stop,” he said jaggedly. “We can’t do this, and I can’t change you.”

“Why not? Because of what I said? I wanted you to know how much I want this.”

“It’s not only that.” His chest moved up and down with a deep breath. “You deserve better, Tella.”

No. He couldn’t let her go again. He couldn’t walk away again, but she could see he was already preparing to. The white lights in the room were growing dim, getting ready to disappear, just like the stars had the last time he’d ended a conversation by leaving. “Don’t you dare do this. I know what I want, and I want you.”

“You might not if you let me change you.” His low voice was barely a whisper. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he looked more like the shadow painted on his wall than the Legend she loved. “You should go. I’m not selfless or altruistic. I always find a way to get the things that I want. Right now, I’m only able to do this because no one has ever looked at me the way you did when you said those words now and—you deserve to have someone who will look at you that way. You deserve someone who can love you, someone really worth living for, rather than an immortal who only wants to possess you.”

46

Scarlett

The moon had dissolved and the stars had fled to watch over another part of the world, leaving Valenda’s night sky a flat, inky black. The only spots of bright came from a few glowing windows lit by burning lamps and candles like the ones blazing inside of Scarlett’s Menagerie suite, where she panted in front of the Lady Prisoner’s gilded cage.

Scarlett’s brow was drenched in sweat that she couldn’t fully wipe away because of the ruby bars trapping her head. The gemstone globe had grown even heavier over the last few hours as she tried and failed, again and again and again, to alter the angry emotions of the young woman Gavriel had brought to her.

Scarlett needed to do this. If she could control the feelings of this woman, then she could control the feelings of the Fallen Star and stop him before he took the throne in less than one day.

But despite her best efforts, Scarlett couldn’t do anything beyond reading the young woman’s feelings. Scarlett could see her rage and anger cascading down her straight back like a fiery cape. Scarlett imagined getting burned by it if she dared step too close. The woman sat on the marble bench that rested next to the Lady Prisoner’s cage, and hadn’t moved from there since the moment the Fallen Star left.

Scarlett had felt relief at first. She’d expected the young woman to attack her, after the way she’d bitten Gavriel’s fingers. Instead she’d chosen to sit as perfect as a model for a portrait until she moved to take her long black gloves off with her teeth.

Her arms were covered in scrolling tattoos of faded black roses and vines that ended in two damaged hands, covered in fresh stitches. The woman’s fingers had been removed, and from the sight of the stitching, it looked as if it had just been done.

Scarlett reared back. This must have been how he’d disciplined the woman for misbehaving earlier. Was this how the Fallen Star planned to punish Scarlett this time if she failed?

Scarlett tried speaking to the young woman, but she never uttered a word. After a couple of hours, the woman rested her cheek against her stubby palm, feigning boredom. It might have been believable if not for the fiery emotions she still wore like a destructive mantle.

Tags: Stephanie Garber Caraval Fantasy
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