A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1) - Page 60

“Are you okay?” Ash demanded, stalking toward me. “Did any of those serpents bite you?”

The sword I held collapsed into ash, startling me. “No. None of them bit me.”

“Are you okay?” he repeated, stopping.

I nodded.

“Are you sure about that?” Ash asked, and I dragged my gaze from the ground to look over at him. Something about his features had softened. “You don’t appear all that okay.”

“I—” Something smooth and dry touched my foot. I looked down, spotting the long, narrow body slithering through the grass. “Snake!” I shrieked, my blood turning to ice as I pointed at the ground. “Snake!”

“I can see it.” Ash lifted his sword. “Get away from it. The bite will be toxic.”

I couldn’t get away from it quick enough.

Throwing myself back, my foot came down on a slick patch of exposed rock, and my leg slid right out from under me. I went down fast, too stunned to stop my fall—

A crack of sudden, blinding pain reverberated across the back of my skull, and then there was simply nothing.

I took a small breath and then a deeper one. A tantalizing, fresh, citrusy scent teased me.

Ash.

I blinked open my eyes.

His features were fuzzy at first, but slowly, the striking lines and angles became clearer. His face was above mine, thick strands of hair hanging forward, resting against his cheeks. I focused on the indentation in his chin, seeing now that it was definitely not a natural occurrence. What could leave a scar on a god? My gaze shifted to his mouth, to the very well-formed lips. He was…

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

His eyes widened slightly, and then thick lashes swept down halfway. “Thank you.”

A slew of words detailing exactly how beautiful I thought he was formed on the tip of my tongue as the haze cleared from my thoughts…

Had I seriously just told him that he was beautiful? I had.

Gods.

The Mistresses of the Jade had said that men enjoyed flattery, but I didn’t think my artless gushing was what they’d meant. Not that I needed to seduce this god. I would have to pretend that it’d never happened. I looked over his shoulder to the star-blanketed sky. We were still by the lake, and I was lying on the grass. Kind of. My head was elevated, resting on his thigh. Everything but my heart stilled. That started galloping like a wild horse.

“I have to admit, though,” he said, drawing my eyes back to him, “I’m worried you hit your head harder than I believed. That was the first nice thing you’ve said to me.”

“Maybe I did damage something.” It almost felt that way because a part of me still couldn’t believe that he was actually here. “Where’s my blade?”

“Right beside you, to your right and within arm’s reach.”

I turned my head. I could make out the shape of the dark gray blade in the grass. I started to sit up.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, beside the thin strap of the slip, and a soft whirl of energy rippled down my arm. “You should lay still for a few more moments,” he said. “You weren’t out long, but if you did do some damage, you’re going to be toppling right back over if you move too quickly.”

What he advised made sense. I’d once taken a nasty hit to the head during training and had been knocked out. Healer Dirks had recommended the same thing. That’s why I didn’t move.

It had absolutely nothing to do with how all parts of me focused on the weight of his hand and the coolness of his skin. His fingers were the only bit that touched the bare skin of my shoulder, but it felt like…more. And that was silly. But sometimes I wondered if I were truly worthy of touch.

My brows knitted. “Why are you still here?”

“You were injured.”

“So?”

His expression changed then, his gaze sharpening and lips thinning. “You really must not think very highly of me if you think I would just leave you here.”

It wasn’t only because he was a god—well, that did surprise me a little—but I could count on one hand how many people would’ve remained. I shifted a bit, uncomfortable with that truth.

A moment passed. “How are you feeling? Does your head hurt, or do you feel sick at all?”

“No. There’s just a slight ache, that’s all.” I shifted my gaze from his. “I can’t believe I…I knocked myself out.”

“Well, I don’t think you did it all alone. The serpent played a role in it.”

I shuddered, closing my eyes. “I hate snakes.”

“I never would’ve guessed that,” he remarked dryly. “Did they do something terrible to you in the past? Other than keeping the pest population at bay?”

My eyes snapped open at the teasing edge to his tone. “They slither.”

“That’s all?”

“No. They slither, and they’re fast, even though they have no limbs. You never know they’re there until you almost step on them.” I was on a roll now. “And their eyes… They’re beady and cold. Serpents are not to be trusted.”

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Flesh and Fire Fantasy
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