Page 140 of The Ember that Tethers

Because whatever had taken root, whatever had tied or tethered or shackled them, was now laid bare for both of them to see.

She’s mine.The way he’d said it, claimed it—fuck, it did something to her. Tore her down the middle and stuffed the words into her ribcage where they didn’t fit. Where they swelled and pinched and hurt her heart.

Emmery shivered and hugged her middle. Tried to numb to it all.

They traversed the city until they reached a spot where mountains split then squeezed through the narrow path.

Ahead, the waterfall tumbled into the obsidian spring, its shimmer like starlight, and stretched further than the length of the Hollow, as if it continued on infinitely and wound into the realms beyond.

Dez led her to a private corner, far from the three lingering souls bathing.

They stared at one another, not sure how to proceed, or where the boundaries lay after all they’d been through together.

Emmery couldn’t get air into her damn chest as her eyes skimmed down his body and her mouth grew dry.

Dez moved first. As he tugged off his tunic, a hiss of air escaped through his teeth. Next he toed off his boots, which left him in only his trousers.

Though she knew she shouldn’t, Emmery stared. While they were both a bloody, filthy mess, he was still Dez, and she was still her.

Emmery’s gaze traced his broad shoulders, the lines and curves of his chest and biceps. The new wounds he wore as victories and the scars as memories. And her eyes dipped lower still.

Dez let her look, let her see him, all he was, and he didn’t hide. He gazed back at her with a darkness that could eclipse the sun. Steal the moon.

Heat pooled inside her and she reached for the hem of her own tunic, unafraid for him to see her, too, but Dez turned away. His fingers fumbled with the clasp on his trousers as he stalked into the spring to put space between them, the water sloshing with each of his steps.

A pang of hurt speared through Emmery’s chest as she tore off her tunic. The cool air caressed her breasts while she tugged off her boots and peeled off her trousers. She took an uneven breathand stepped into the water. The relief hit her all at once as she sank under and let the spring take her. It soaked her hair and muscles and every tender part of her. When she surfaced and treaded water like Dez had taught her, she caught his eye from across the pool.

Because they always seemed to find one another, and he always seemed to be watching her first.

Although she knew the water hid her body below her collarbones and neck, his gaze touched her more than hands ever could.

Emmery tore herself from him, desperate to wash the blood away, to scour all that happened from her skin until she was raw, cleansed, and free from all of this. To keep her hands busy, she retrieved her clothes to scrub them. Anything to distract from her thoughts. To not think of him across the spring. To not think of his perfect lips and strong arms, and body that made her endlessly …want.

Regardless, all his words sang through her head. The ones she’d collected like secrets.

Some people can’t look at something so terrifyingly beautiful. Something that could absolutely decimate them. It strikes fear in their hearts and they run instead of taking time to really see it.

I will never let you drown.

You can’t have her. She doesn’t belong to you. She’s mine.

And that blasted dream that made her soul burn.

We look … good together.

Tell me you feel this. Say you want me too. Admit it. Say it out loud.

What if I said I wanted you? What if I begged? What if I got on my knees? Would you even look at me, Emmery? Would you actually see me? Because sometimes … sometimes I swear, you do.

But when she glanced up, Destonne was gone.

After Emmery pulled herself from the water and donned her soaked clothes, she found Dez on the shore a short distance away. His trousers dripped as they stood there, facing each other, unspeaking, and he wrung his shirt between his hands before he tugged it over his head. The fabric tore on his crown, but he didn’t seem to care. And he wouldn’t look at her.

She cleared her throat, not sure what to say. Not sure what was happening between them. “Dez?”

“Emmery, I—” He started but when he glanced up, his gaze wandered behind her, and almost imperceptibly, his bottom lip quivered. “Mum?” he croaked.

If heartbreak could be captured in a word, that would’ve been it.