Page 225 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

My heartbeat was solid against his, both competing which would give up first from the force drumming against our chests.

He didn’t answer…because his mouth was on mine. So warm. His touch, his breath, his caress, his lips and tongue. I longed to feel warm. He was soft and tasted a bit like the liquor he always drank, and his kisses were just as strong. Demanding, devouring. Intoxicating.

“You taste heavenly, my sweet sin,” he whispered over my mouth before crushing his lips to mine again. Kissing Kilian Castemont was like walking through fire on a rainy day. Kissing Kilian Castemont was agony—kissing him was the sweetest agony. It made me want to suffer.

He held me so close, tightly pressed to him and it wasn’t nearly close enough.

It took us a few moments to gather our breath. To gather sense about something that made absolutely no sense at all. How…how could just one kiss…one kiss…colour so much negative space on a canvas that had been blank for so long—so vehemently.

How?

When darkness began dispersing, I let go of him and he let go of me. His mouth was rosy and swollen, the remnants of what we did painted on his stare, too, glazed with dark want.

Fogling laid on the ground the colour of ash, frozen with their mouths and eyes wide open as if they’d seen their end before even dying. Perhaps they had. The Obscur Asteri was the dark and the dark was death.

“Let’s go see the city, make sure none of them strayed from the flock.” He extended a hand for me to take and in a flash, we were at the centre of Amur.

The stony streets were empty, houses locked and dark. I could feel the fear of my people in the air. I felt the horror they went through. And my heart bled.

A few curious looks peeked from behind curtains and then people began pouring out of their homes and onto the city square, surrounding us and rejoicing.

“Thank you,” an elderly man offered, rushing to us despite his limp and the crane. He bowed to us, offering Kilian a string of dragon larch beads that many used to count their steps to Valda. “My queen, my king. We thank you.”

My king.

Kilian took the small gift, eyeing the engraved wooden spheres with curiosity. “I’ll cherish it well. Thank you.”

“For your own walk to Valda,” the man said. “Hopefully one day you will convince your wife to accompany you, too. She can make her fist climb as well.”

Kilian’s stare grew with curiosity, and after the man backed away he asked. “You’ve not made the climb?”

How did he even know about it? “No. Surely Alaric ratted me out plenty on my bad Olympian behaviour.”

“It was mostly Alastair,” he said and pocketed the small gift.

A little boy rushed to us, a few colourful sweets in his hands. “For you. To thank you.”

Kilian kneeled before the young boy, fluffing his hair and taking the candy from him. “How did you know they were my favourite?”

The boy’s eyes doubled in size as did his smile. “My mama sells them in the city, she makes the best corn candy in the whole of Olympia.”

Kilian popped some in his mouth. “I will make sure to visit here more often then.” He stood and offered me some.

Corn sweets? His favourite sweets were sugar rolled in balls?

I picked an orange-coloured bead and popped it in my mouth. The strong artificial sweeteners made me wince, but I gave the boy a smile. “Thank you.” Once the little boy was out of earshot, I turned to Kilian and made a gagging sound. “You can’t possibly be serious. These are sickly sweet.”

He raised a brow at me. “They are. Because they are corn sweets.”

I looked around and made to spit the candy out, but he grabbed my jaw, stopping me before I did so. “Don't you dare,” he said, and then probed my mouth open with his thumb. He took the half-eaten candy from my tongue and put it in his, licking his fingers as he did so. “Persimmon flavour is one of my favourites.”

I made another gagging sound. “There was a flavour besides sugar in that?”

He gave me a small, amused smile and nodded.

Maybe I was willing to try another if he liked them that much. I looked down at his palm cradling the small candy. “Which is your favourite?”

Without hesitating he said, “You.”