Phoenix Flame - Sara Holland Page 0,9

over, the currents of the dance floor have taken Brekken and me to a corner of the room. Relative quiet falls as the band takes a breather and a sip of wine—normal wine this time. I drop my hands from Brekken’s shoulders, self-conscious. But he grabs them before they fall all the way to my sides, and holds them between us.

I feel heat rise to my face and hope I’m not tomato red as his fingers fold around mine. What the Heiress told me floats back into my mind. That the serum only brings out impulses, and truths, that were already there.

“Brekken …,” I start, trying to figure out how to break it to him, when he leans forward and cuts off my words with his lips.

My breath catches. Suddenly it seems like all my senses have been dialed up to eleven; and yet, somehow, the world has fallen quiet. My eyes flutter shut, but I still hear everything: the Elemental Orchestra launching into a new, slower, aching song; the low threads of conversation crisscrossing the room like spider silk. The fizz of champagne in glasses, and the late summer wind whispering outside the walls.

And Brekken. Everywhere, Brekken. His hands on my waist, polite and chaste but burning hot and trembling a little. The solidness of his shoulders under my hands, muscles shifting beneath cloth. The scent of him, like an ice wind. And his lips, warm on mine, moving gently at first and then more urgently.

People must be looking, I think. I can feel the weight of eyes on my back. But I don’t care. I can’t bring myself to care. Brekken’s taking over everything—until he breaks away to take a breath, and we realize at the same time that we’re surrounded by a circle of onlookers, some smiling indulgently, some looking scandalized. A different kind of heat, one I like much less, rises to my cheeks. I grab Brekken’s hands and lift them from my sides.

“Let’s take this somewhere else, shall we?” I ask with a smile.

As we head out, I accidentally meet Marcus’s gaze across the room, and he doesn’t look happy.

Guilt slides in … but then it dissipates. I hold my uncle’s stare. Without me, the inn would be in chaos right now. Who’s to say we would even be here, dancing, if the Silver Prince had gotten his way? We’re not safe yet, not by a long shot, but I think I’ve earned a little bit of freedom. I hold my head high and square my shoulders as I lead Brekken out of the ballroom. Not embarrassed, not scurrying as I once might have.

Let them look. Who I kiss is none of their business. There’s only two weeks left in the summit anyway.

Outside, we automatically meander past the gardens and find ourselves skirting the edge of the woods. We don’t speak, but we don’t need to; the silence is a comfortable one, built up like layers of lacquer by years of friendship.

My breath hitches only when we pass a spot where the undergrowth is slightly trampled, some of the leaves and branches indented. Brekken doesn’t know it, no one would even notice unless they were looking closely, but this is the path Graylin and I cut to the clearing where we buried Bram.

Unbidden, a memory sneaks in of Taya, her face in the dark as I emerged from the woods. I tense a little, and Brekken looks down at me, his hand tightening around mine.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” His voice is soft, languid.

“I’m fine.”

Shake it off. Thinking about Taya when I’m holding hands with Brekken makes me feel guilty. Both of them have claimed a part of my heart. I’ve loved Brekken since I was a kid, but earlier this summer I thought Brekken had double-crossed me and Havenfall. Marcus was sick, and I had no idea who I could trust. Taya was the only one who seemed to understand. Not to mention those dark eyes, her motorcycle jacket and crooked smile. Of course I caught feelings for her.

When I look at Brekken, though, I can’t quell a low, wild excitement deep in my chest—that how he’s looking at me now, with tenderness and longing and not a little hunger, is how he really feels. And part of me feels that way about him too.

I tug his hand onward until we’re past the woods, away from the inn. We come to a stop at the edge of Mirror Lake. It spreads out before