Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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Our kisses were fervent and sensuous. Each of us whispered the other's name and stole our own with every inhaled breath. Varen's hair feathered between my fingers as I pushed them through the short locks. He had a forearm braced against the upward curve of the chaise to keep his full weight off of mine, his muscular thighs trapping my legs, and our flushed flesh was separated by luxurious rose-gold and battle-black adamere. Heat sparked on my skin wherever his free hand roamed, never ceasing in gentle touches. His fingers glided around the nape of my neck to curl through my upswept hair, coast down my throat, and caress my side in languid strokes.
All the while I kissed and touched him back.
I wanted to kiss away his torment.
I wanted to kiss away my guilt.
My throat thickened painfully. A thin sheen of hot, stinging tears shimmered in my vision, but I couldn't allow them to fall. I was to blame for his brother's death and I feared it would ruin us irrevocably if he ever discovered the truth. I wasn't sure if he'd ever forgive me.
As soon as Varen mentioned the beast had struck from above and given me a description of its many-eyes, I knew with certainty it was that insidious creature inside my aunt who had hunted his brother. Six months ago, it had broken free from the sticky chains of the krekenn web and I'd thought it had headed for the Deniauds', but it hadn't. It fled fast and far to the Heart of the Hemmlok Forest. A forest shared by three Houses—Lyon, Deniaud, and Szarvas.
Varen had been there. He had witnessed his brother's death and blamed himself.
It was wrong, so wrong of him to hold onto that guilt. He wasn't to blame.
I'm sorry...
Forgive me...
From the moment he and I had first met as children, we'd become knotted and stitched together in a myriad of tangled threads. A tapestry woven of half-truths, torment, and guilt. Heartbreak too. It would destroy Varen to learn that his blood, blood he'd given willingly, was what I needed to free the monstrous beast that had murdered his brother.
It was the catch in my breath, the hard length of him rocking against my clit, stirring echoes of blissfulness, that brought me back to the here and now. To the aching pressure building inside my core, a sinful tempest of lust.
"Tabitha," Varen moaned into our kiss. "Sweet Tabitha." I lost myself in his touch on my body and the way his mouth conquered every inch of my own. The seductive thrust of his tongue ignited a craving that turned my blood to liquid heat and wicked flames that scorched my flesh.
He groaned deeply, a sonorous tremor from the depth of his chest, reaching all the way inside mine. I sighed softly at the delicious rasp of his bristled cheek as he nudged me to angle my head for a deeper kiss. Thorough and languid and full of need.
It was chilly in the room but our bodies together were a furnace. Hot with the hard lines of his body contouring to my own. Hotter where his erection rocked right at that pleasurable point, restlessly moving back and forth in an ageless rhythm, winding me tighter and tighter. My inner thighs were sticky with arousal and my sex ached in acute agony beneath my dress. I was almost angry at the fish-scaled cut of his armor. Armor I wanted to rip off. A dress I wanted to shred. To revel in the feel of us—skin to skin.
