Page 153 of Starside

I take a rattling breath. “My third fear,” I say. “Of … of dying in a stupid way … I—”

“You are not dying in these caves, Aris,” he says, with so much credence that the next words die in my throat.

“Okay,” I say instead. I believe him. And I steal some of that confidence too. I focus my mind not on if I will make it out of these caves, but when. I imagine rays of sun spilling into these tunnels of darkness.

And I keep walking.

Hours later, I finally see it.

Sunlight. It hurts my eyes, after all this darkness, but I keep looking. Everything in me wants to run toward it, but I don’t need to. It’s … getting closer, like it’s barreling toward us.

I frown, and that’s when I feel something else. The bite of magic, just like in the Storm Woods, an energy pulling all my senses toward it, begging me to give it my full attention …

I don’t think. I grab Raker and shove him against the wall as hard as I can. I press myself against him.

“Don’t look,” I say. I close my eyes tightly.

Then, all at once, there’s fire at my back, the suffocating heat of this demon, or whatever it is, begging us to look. To make those flames grow so large, they might flow right through these tunnels.

Look, it whispers, its voice calling to my blood, to my wants, as if to pull them out one by one. Everything you desire, I have it. Right here.

It feels like it does. I can almost taste the whisper of everything I’ve ever wanted right behind me, so close I can see it in my mind. So close, if I just look, it will be mine.

My body trembles with the need to turn around and have everything I’m envisioning. And it’s not just innocent wants that it has pulled from me. No, treacherous wants sear along my skin in flames so hot they draw a whimper from my lips.

I lean harder against Raker, to get farther from the flames … but also, for other reasons.

And instead of pushing me away, like he always has, Raker curls his hands around my hips—

And pulls me closer. I draw in a ragged breath, in pure shock. I don’t know if it’s an attempt to hold me still … or if he actually wants to touch me. But no one’s ever dared, and I’ve never even gotten close to this, what with my markings. And in this darkness, with our eyes closed …

All these buried wants are clawing out of me, and I’m trying to stop them, but part of me doesn’t want to. My palms are against his armor. Our chests are flush—and his is rising and falling just as rapidly as mine is. His breaths are labored. His body … it’s trembling, like he’s fighting something too.

Slowly, my hands slide up to his neck, giving him plenty of time to stop me, but he doesn’t. My fingers brush against his pulse … and it’s racing. I need more. I—I need to keep touching him.

“Raker,” I say in a strangled whisper, lifting to my toes, to be anywhere near his significant height.

Like a seal has been broken, his fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt, and my blood ignites.

27

At that first brush of Raker’s callused fingers beneath my shirt, my nerves catch fire.

I don’t know if it’s this demon’s heat, or maybe I’m just this touch-starved, but my skin prickles everywhere, and it’s like a new sense awakening. Raker’s gone very still in front of me. I wonder if he feels it too, this fire in his veins, this deep, pulsing ache.

The quest is a distant thought. The fact that he’s been my enemy for years doesn’t seem important. No, right now, I feel raw and needy, and when he finally drags his rough knuckles up my spine, slowly, like he has all the time in the world to discover me in the dark, the flames behind my back expand, strengthening, unleashing a toe-curling, blood-smoldering desire that nearly brings me to my knees.

His name spills from my lips again, in a shameful whimper. “Raker—”

“Don’t speak,” he bites out.

He’s trying to fight it. His hand flexes against my skin, fingers going still as if he’s using all his restraint to keep from touching me. I hear him swallow hard.

The pause clears my head a bit. I hate him. We shouldn’t be doing this. I fall to my heels, then try to pull back, put some space between us … but he doesn’t let go. His hold is light. I could easily slip out of it.

But I don’t want to.

Fuck it.