Page 124 of Forged in Fading
He smirked. “Are you stealing my drink?”
She tried to tug herself free, but his grip only tightened as he sidled closer and forced her back into the hard edge of the table. Like every other elf she’d ever met, he was stunning—pale, soft features framed by long dark locks. But Alvara felt nothing, even as he leaned his head toward hers.
No. This was most definitely not what she wanted. Who she wanted. “I am…my…” Plenty of coherent sentences strung themselves together in her mind, but none of them found their way past her lips.
She ducked to sneak under his arm, but he caged her in and moved closer. His leg grazed hers, and her skin crawled. Oh, damn it all. Alvara slammed her knee into his groin, and he crumpled into a whining heap on the floor at Boden’s feet, who seemed to be trying to squeeze the life out of the plate he held with hands clenched to their breaking point.
Food. Her mouth watered. She reached out to grab a honey cake, but the plate slid onto the table out of her reach, and she frowned.
Boden touched her arm and looked her up and down, somehow oblivious to the lightning racing up her skin. “Are you all right? I was going to—good gods, he’s going to be recovering from that for a few days.” He dropped a hunk of bread in her hand. “Eat this.”
No butter? She sighed and tore off a piece with her teeth. The sounds of revelry had quieted to a dull hum, most of the humans now gathered around a man who looked to be reciting some kind of legend or poem. Like a tarinthúr.
The bite of bread turned to soot in her mouth.
“Did you want to stay?” Boden asked softly.
Not anymore. “No.”
The night had been what she needed, and she wasn’t willing to let it slip away, not that easily. Boden turned toward Rav and Kat, and Alvara quickly snagged the drink of the male she had incapacitated, giggling between swallows as he crawled away.
“If you don’t put that mead down right now, I’ll be forced to carry you out of here.”
Yes, please. Alvara pivoted away from Boden, tilted her head back, and guzzled the liquid. Fire flooded her throat, and she sputtered.
He groaned and ran his hand over his face. “Vitharen help me.”
Sobs peppered the air behind Boden. “I just…wanted to…dance.”
Rav held his arm around a weeping Kat’s shoulder and grimaced. “Again, you can dance. Just not on the tables.”
Alvara ventured a shaky step toward Kat, but the floor bottomed out from underneath her. Shit. She landed in a pair of rock-solid arms and thanked the gods for strong alcohol.
“Time to take you home.” Boden’s breath tickled her ear as he hoisted her upright.
She slackened her muscles, savoring his grasp tightening around her waist. This was a good night.
“I know I told you to enjoy yourself, but damn it, Alvara.” He half-carried her out of the hall, and as the cold wind howled around them, she leaned into his body heat.
“I like mead,” she said as a hiccup bubbled out of her throat.
“I can see that. Though I would have appreciated you also drinking some water. I’ll find you some when we’re back at the sleeping halls.”
No—she didn’t want the night to end. To go back to her former self, always wondering and worrying about what came next. This night offered endless opportunities. To know who they each might be if the world weren’t threatening to collapse around them.
Who she and Boden might be.
She tossed whatever food she still held to the ground, slithered out of his grasp, and wobbled as she faced him.
He arched a brow and narrowed his eyes. “If you’re thinking about escaping to drink more mead—”
Her thumb skimmed over his lips, so damn soft, stilling any movement. She stepped close enough for their bodies to almost brush. She could feel his heat, wanted more of his touch. Needed it like she had never needed anything before.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head, her own mouth a heartbeat away from his…
And he pulled back.
“This isn’t you.” Boden’s words carried more air than substance as he grasped her wrists and moved her arms off him.
