From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash #1) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,128

shock. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I did. And I’ll say it again. I don’t care what you are.” Hawke’s hand slid off my back. A moment later, I felt his palm flatten against my cheek with unerring accuracy. “I care about who you are.”

Oh.

Oh, gods.

My chest swelled so fast and full, it was a small miracle that I didn’t float right out of his lap and into the willow. What he’d said…

It had to be the sweetest and most perfect thing anyone could say.

“Why?” I demanded, almost wishing he hadn’t spoken those words. “Why would you say that?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes, I am. It doesn’t make sense.”

“You don’t make sense.”

I hit his shoulder—or chest. Some extremely hard part of him.

Hawke grunted. “Ouch.”

I so did not hit him hard enough for that. “You’re fine.”

“I’m bruised.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I retorted. “And it’s you who makes no sense.”

“I’m the one sitting here being honest. You’re the one hitting me. How do I not make sense?”

“Because this whole thing makes no sense.” Frustration rose swiftly through me, and I started to stand, but the hand on my hip stopped me. Or I let it stop me. I wasn’t sure. And that was even more irritating. “You could be spending time with anyone, Hawke—any number of people you wouldn’t have to hide in a willow tree to be with.”

“And yet, I’m here with you. And before you even begin to think it’s because of my duty to you, it’s not. I could’ve just walked you back to your room and stayed out in the hall.”

“That’s my point. It makes no sense. You can have a slew of willing participants in…whatever this is. It would be easy,” I said. Pretty Britta came to mind. I was sure he’d had her. “You can’t have me. I’m…I’m un-have-able.”

“I’m confident that’s not even a word.”

“That’s not the point. I’m not allowed to do this. Any of this. I shouldn’t have done what I did at the Red Pearl,” I continued. “It doesn’t matter if I want—”

“And you do want.” His whisper danced over my cheek. “What you want is me.”

My breath caught. “That doesn’t matter.”

“What you want should always matter.”

A short, harsh laugh left me. “It doesn’t, and that’s another thing that isn’t the point. You could—”

“I heard you the first time, Princess. You’re right. I could find someone who would be easier.” His fingers traced the line of my mask from my right ear and along my cheek. I had no idea how he could see. “Ladies or Lords in Wait, who aren’t burdened by rules or limitations, who aren’t Maidens I’m sworn to protect. There are a lot of ways I could occupy my time that don’t include explaining in great detail why I’m choosing to be where I am, with whom I choose.”

The corners of my lips started to turn down.

“The thing is,” he went on, “none of them intrigue me. You do.”

You intrigue me.

“It’s really that simple for you?” I asked, wanting to believe him, and also not.

His forehead rested against mine, startling me. “Nothing is ever simple. And when it is, it’s rarely ever worth it.”

“Then why?”

“I’m beginning to believe that’s your favorite question.”

“Maybe.” My lips twitched. “It’s just that…gods, there are a lot of reasons why I don’t understand how you can be this intrigued. You’ve seen me.” My face heated, and I sincerely hoped he couldn’t see it. I hated saying it, but it was a reality. “You’ve seen what I look like—”

“I have, and I think you already know what I think. I said it in front of you, in front of the Duke, and I told you outside the Great Hall—”

“I know what you said, and I’m not bringing up what I look like for you to shower me with compliments. It’s just…” Gods, I wished I hadn’t said anything. I shook my head. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

“I can’t. I won’t.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“You’re just used to assholes like the Duke,” he said, and what sounded like a low growl rumbled from him. “He may be an Ascended, but he’s worthless.”

My heart dropped. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Hawke. You—”

“I’m not afraid to speak the truth. He may be powerful, but he’s just a weak man, who proves his strength by attempting to humiliate those more powerful than he is. Someone like you, with your strength? It makes him feel incompetent—which he is. And your scars? They are a testament to your fortitude. They are