Page 178 of The Ember that Tethers

Despite everything, Emmery almost laughed when Dez returned, and not because of the citrus tea, cinnamon pastries, or the soup that tasted like her childhood.

No, it was the extra plate of lemons.

And, of course, he grimaced as she sucked the juice from the rinds. But it seemed he had catalogued her favourite things in his infallible mind.

Though her sadness threatened to destroy her, the gesture spurred warmth in her chest, and she clung to it. Because no one had ever cared for her even a fraction of that magnitude.

As they sat by moonlight and kept each other company, Dez didn’t push her to talk and instead updated her. Emmery’s heart hurt as he told her of Senka’s trickery and Brennen’s stagnant state. She made a note to see him in the morning. Cyrilla had returned with news and Fionn and Vera had smoothly tended to things in their absence, including a strange attack in a village not far from the Sacred Lands.

Emmery sank into his soothing voice, unaware how much she needed it. And while she had every intention to return to her bed, the heaviness of the food and the exhaustion in her limbs made her eyelids far too heavy and his blankets much too soft.

Some time later, the sound of a door clicking shut woke her. Aera leapt onto the floor and toddled away, likely to go stretch out on Emmery’s bed.

Through the open wind, the night breeze swept in a biting chill and moonlight flooded the room. The mattress sank beside her as Dez settled on his back and tucked himself under the quilt. His face was clean shaven now, back to his old self. As he turned to face her, his hand rested over his heart, she distinctly remembered it pounding against her cheek as he carried her, but—

That was impossible. She must have imagined it.

For a moment, they stared at each other. Though the air thickened with lingering words they didn’t dare speak aloud, their eyes said it all.

Emmery broke the silence and murmured, “I should return to my room.”

He ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip before he pulled it between his teeth, as if tasting their kiss from days ago. She followed the movement, recalling how soft his lips were, how his fingers sank into her hips, and the way his sweet blood exploded on her tongue.

“Would you stay if I asked nicely?” he asked, his voice hoarse either with fatigue or longing. Maybe both. “I sleep better with you at my side.”

In my arms, hung unsaid, but it was written across his face.

Not a single part of her could fathom going back to her cold, empty bed. And when she slept with Dez, it seemed he chased her nightmares away.

“Stay,” he said softly. “Please.”

And all her morals, every fragment of remaining self-restraint and good intentions, soared out the cracked window. “If you insist,” she whispered. “Since you’re so persuasive when you’re polite.”

Dez chuckled and she closed her eyes at the sound, letting it fill that empty chasm in her chest where that foreign presence now lingered. “Rest assured I only use manners for evil. Leverage, really.”

As she buried her face in the pillow and laughed, the heaviness inside her lifted a bit, like a pebble off a landslide.

He shut his eyes and sank into sleep easily, as if he hadn’t rested while that Collapsed state kept her hostage. Emmery lay awake and watched him while she thought of the labyrinth vision, the kiss in Thirst that had set her blood on fire, and how badly she wanted to kiss him again. The thought consumed her mind.

While Dez had implied the thorns were the reason for his abstinence, they’d never inhibited her attraction to him. The guilt kept her away; the shame of wanting him when she shouldn’t. When she was betraying Shade. But now that everything had fallen apart and she’d lost every path to him, that desire she’d shoved down, the one that roared in her veins and lived in her dreams, grew into a rampant beast she couldn’t tame.

Go to sleep, Emmery,she told herself.Just shut your eyes and go to sleep.

But as Dez rolled and pulled her flush against him, his body curled around hers like he was made to hold her, Emmery’s heart tripped over itself. She settled against his bare chest as his arm banded her waist and his face pressed into her hair, still damp from her bath.

He mumbled her name, his voice lost in sleep.

All her restraint, the barriers, the walls she had put between them these months—they all came crashing down. And she allowed herself to want. To wanthim.

Because she wanted his sunshine smiles and quips. She wanted him to fill the emptiness inside her with his light and shadows. She wanted Destonne to make her feel alright in that infallible way he knew how. And, right now, she needed him more than she ever had before.

She tipped her head up and studied his face, then whispered his name into the dark. Dez didn’t reply as his even breaths stirred her hair. He smelled so damn good she wanted to bury her face in his chest, drag her tongue over his skin, and taste him.

Her fingertips brushed the strong line of his jaw, and she traced the tendons in his neck, over his muscled shoulder, and down his chest. His scarred skin was uneven but soft, and warmth radiated off him like golden sunrays. She trailed her lips to the underside of his jaw, kissing, and making her way up.

While his eyes remained shut, he said groggily, “Tell me … whatexactlyare you up to?”

Carefully, she stretched and pressed her lips to his chin and his cheek. Wherever she could reach.