From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash #1) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,131

working the muscles of my neck. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed there like that, quiet and hidden away under the willow, but I did know that it was far past the point where my blood had cooled, and my heart had slowed. I didn’t move then, and neither did Hawke. I thought that maybe…maybe being held like this, so close and so tight, felt just as good as the kissing and the touching.

Perhaps even better, but in a different way.

But it was getting late, and unsurprisingly, Hawke was the responsible one. He kissed the crown of my head, causing my heart to squeeze in a way that was so sweet, it was almost painful.

“I need to get you back, Princess.”

“I know.” But still, I held onto him.

He chuckled, and I grinned into his shoulder. “You have to let me go, though.”

“I know.” I sighed, yet I remained where I was, thinking that the moment we stepped outside of the willow, we would be back in the real world, no longer in our haven where I was Poppy, and who I was mattered. “I don’t want to.”

He was silent for so long that I feared that I’d said the wrong thing, but then his arm tightened around me again. When he spoke, his voice was strangely rough. “Neither do I.”

I almost asked why we had to, but I managed to stop myself. Hawke stood then, taking me with him, and I reluctantly lowered my legs. We stood there for another all-too-short moment, his arm around me, my arms stretched above me, and our bodies still connected.

Then I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and took a step back. I couldn’t see him, but I wasn’t surprised when his hand found mine, and he led me toward the willow branches.

He stopped. “Ready?”

Not at all, but I said yes, and we walked out from underneath the willow, my chest threatening to become heavy. I refused to let that happen. At least not right this moment. I had all night for everything I felt to become memories.

I had many nights ahead for that.

We found our way back to the gas-lamp-lit walkway, the garden silent except for the sound of the wind and our steps. I looked down the shadowy paths, wondering what had happened to the hushed conversations and soft moans. We rounded the corner, nearing the fountain—

And came face to face with Vikter, sans mask.

My heart lurched in my chest as I stumbled back a step. Hawke turned as if to catch me, but I gained my footing. “Oh, my gods,” I whispered, looking up at Vikter. “You about gave me a heart attack.”

He stared at me for a long moment and then turned to Hawke. A muscle in his jaw clenched as he looked down to where Hawke still held my hand.

Oh, shit.

Slowly, Vikter looked up while I tried to pull my hand free. Hawke held on for a moment and then let go. I clasped my hands together, my eyes wide behind my mask.

“It’s time to go back to your room, Maiden.” Vikter bit out, voice low.

I winced at his tone.

“I was in the process of escorting Penellaphe back to her room,” Hawke replied.

Vikter’s head snapped in his direction. “I know exactly what you were in the process of doing.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Doubtful,” Hawke murmured.

Which was the wrong thing to say. “You think I don’t know?” Vikter stepped into Hawke’s space, and while Hawke was an inch or two taller, they were eye to eye. “It only takes one look at both of you to know.”

One look at both of us? Blinking, I lifted my fingers to my lips that were still humming and felt puffy. My gaze flew to Hawke’s mouth. His lips did look swollen.

Hawke held his ground and Vikter’s stare, and I really had no idea what he could say. “Nothing happened, Vikter.”

Well…

“Nothing?” Vikter snarled. “Boy, I may have been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.”

I blinked.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” Hawke retorted. “But you’re stepping way over the line.”

“I am?” Vikter laughed, but there was no humor to the sound. “Do you understand what she is?” he demanded, voice so low it was barely audible. “Do you even understand what you could’ve caused if anyone other than I had come upon you two?”

I stepped forward. “Vikter—”

“I know exactly who she is,” Hawke shot back. “Not what she is. Maybe you’ve forgotten that she’s not just a godsdamn inanimate object whose