Page 113 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

“Even if it means nothing happens between us again until we’re certain.” He stepped back, and the loss of her warmth felt like winter had arrived. “You deserve to know if what you feel is real. So do I.”

But how could he be sure? When the Claiming let them feel each other’s emotions—but were those emotions truly theirs? Or something manufactured by this ancient power?

He had nothing to compare it to, no courting rituals or past lovers that he could use as a reference for what this should feel like. After all, he’d simply existed without touch or emotion for centuries just to survive.

Maybe he should, for her sake, push her away before his fire turned what she was awakening in him to ash.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. It was Gellar and Bellus.

“Captain,” Gellar said, his tone neutral. “Angela Duboise. We’re ready. The Sleep Wizard and his team are just through those doors. We’ll give you two a moment.” With Bellus beside him going over his notebook filled with checklists they moved farther down the corridor. While Bellus talked about patrols, Gellar’s expression remained neutral as commander, but also a friend who gave Zarek a nod before returning his attention to their historian.

Angela’s hand tightened on Zarek’s arm, feeling her fear spike as she stared at the doors.

He covered her hand with his and squeezed gently. “I know I said it before, and I’ll say it again: you don’t have to do this.”

She pulled her arm free. “I need answers. And I need sleep. If this can get rid of my nightmares, I’m willing to try anything.” She looked at the door. “You know, my Aunt Claudine recommended I do something similar when the nightmares first started. As much as I’d complain or roll my eyes, I’ve always trusted her judgment… and I trust you, Zarek.”

That meant more than he’d ever admit.

“Where will you be?”

“The human realm. At the Bone & Whistle with Martar and Rocharde. Gellar, Bellus, and Condorr will call me the instant something isn’t right.” He lowered his head to meet her gaze. “Unless you want me to stay.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Although I’d love a drink too, you know.”

“I’ll bring you back a bottle of vodka.” He leaned in close enough to whisper, “And perhaps we’ll share it later.” The memory of their night together moved through him like heat. To hell with the rules and the complications—this woman is mine.

“Sure. And you’re certain I can’t go home? To visit my aunt? Check on my house and business?”

There it was.

He hated the reminder that he’d taken her out of her life and kept her here.

Again, it made him wonder if last night had truly been his to take. Or had it been the Claiming reaching through him, taking what it wanted while he told himself it was all done by choice?

The thought made his chest heavy, like a lump of coal squashing the fire within. The thing was, that’s what he used to be like, cold and uncaring, before he’d met her.

But she wasn’t a prisoner. Angela was here because the alternative was death by Katarra’s hand. The mission demanded her presence be here in Paradox, while the Claiming demanded he keep her closer. And he would not apologize for keeping her breathing—even at the cost of his own life.

“I’m sorry.” It came out cold, like a command. He hadn’t intended to say it that way. But being a captain who fought with chaos was easier than being a man who’d found someone who made his soul smile in a world that wouldn’t allow it.

“Don’t be. I’m okay.” She did that thing of rolling her shoulders back and lifting her chin as if preparing herself for battle and pushed the door wider. The courage she wore so naturally was stunning on her. “Well, have fun.” Even though she hesitated to move from his side.

“Fun?” he repeated the word as if it were in another language. It might as well have been.

“Maybe I’ll have to show you sometime.” She was already smiling.

The smile stirred something inside him, making him forget himself. He stepped closer, his nose already nuzzling into the space between her ear and neck that made her squirm with delight. “If it was anything like last night—”

“Down, boy.” Her bright laugh made him smile before he could stop it. He only did that with her.

She peered past him into the cavernous room, dimly lit by candles. The scent of beeswax mingling with incense wafted through the open doorway.

Her smile fell. “This doesn’t feel like it’s going to be fun.” Again, she squared herself. “But I’m doing it.” She kissed him on the cheek, then patted his chest. “Now off you go. Enjoy that drink, Zarek.” Then she closed the door on him.

He stood in the corridor and stared at it.

If anyone else had shut a door in his face, he would have taken it off the hinges or burned it to ash. But he didn’t.