Bonds of Brass (The Bloodright Trilogy #1) - Emily Skrutskie Page 0,108

out and cup my chance gently on the jaw, bracing for him to pull back. “Ettian,” Gal whispers. He doesn’t move.

There’s more I should say. A better explanation for why I’ve finally come around. I know he probably needs it.

But I think we both need this more.

He’s going to stop me. He should stop me.

He doesn’t stop me.

And the weight of all my fears leaves me as my lips seal over his. I prop one knee up on the copilot’s seat to keep from toppling over as he pulls me down against him, his arms winding around me so enthusiastically that for a moment I forget why I was ever afraid in the first place. This isn’t an everyday sort of kiss. It’s deep. Hungry. Terrifying. Momentous. I’m kissing the Umber heir, and he’s kissing me back.

And I was right. I was so right. We’re slipping into alignment, clicking into place, solid and sure. Resisting this has been destroying us. Allowing it is putting us back together again. We should have been honest—we should have been doing this from the start.

The urge to make up for lost time is a little terrifying. “Gal,” I mumble against his lips, trying to break away. He lets out a soft, protesting hum, and the corners of his mouth tighten. I slide my hand down to his chest and push, pinning him against the seat so I can look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. And don’t you dare say it—don’t you dare tell me ‘no apologies.’?”

He blinks up at me, looking dazed and giddy and so gorgeous that it takes a significant amount of willpower to keep from kissing him again.

“I’ve been holding myself at a distance because I thought I saw what I was afraid of. I saw how much you want this plan to succeed—I knew you need it to, but I kept expecting the worst, reading into everything the worst way.”

Those were the instincts that used to keep me alive, and only now am I seeing how much they twisted my perceptions. They let me turn Gal into the monster I feared he might become, giving him no chance to prove himself otherwise.

“And I’m sorry I went off with Wen today,” I blurt, the words cascading out of me in a rush. “I didn’t think. She nearly killed us when she spun out, and all I could think about afterward was how I could have left you here all alone, never having…Not knowing…”

The thought is too terrible to complete. Gal’s hand trails along my hairline, across my jaw. I lean into it, closing my eyes. “Ettian,” he murmurs again. His hand slips lower, his thumb moving to circle the jut of my throat. I make a surprised noise, but Gal doesn’t clench. Doesn’t threaten, or if there is a threat in this motion, it’s the softest one I’ve ever received. A notion flickers in the back of my mind—Gal’s the only person in seven years to touch me with this much tenderness.

Or maybe he’s the only one I’ve ever allowed. Maybe the only one I ever will allow. It doesn’t seem possible that in a galaxy where empires rule entire systems, where cityships wage war, where annihilation is a threat that can be made good on, there’s room for something as small and tender as a boy’s gentle hand on my throat.

Slowly Gal lets it slide, moving around my neck until he cups the back of my head. His thumb brushes over my wiry, buzzed-short hair. When he speaks, he breathes his words against my collarbone. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t want to make this harder on you, and I thought you wanted…Every day I wake up terrified that I won’t be able to come back from this. It seemed so much easier to shut down, to not feel anything at all, and I forgot what that would look like to you. I can’t…I need…I’m so glad…” He breaks off, inhaling deeply. “No empire is worth it if I don’t have you too.”

This time I tilt my chin down and let him come to me. In the darkness of my closed eyes and the hush of the