the room now. Standing up, I watched him warily. I didn’t trust him not to strike back. Faster than my eyes could track, he was in front of me and time slowed. He lowered his head.
This was how he hit Taurus. It was how they made the earth rumble and break.
“Fight back,” he warned.
“No,” I said, backing away.
“Fight. Back. You have to know that if you pull a stunt like that, they’ll recover quickly. I won’t hurt you, but they will shred you.”
My hand was sweaty on the handle of the knife. As he ran toward me, I screamed and stepped out of his way at the last second, bringing my knife down in a sharp arc toward his kidney. The tip pierced his tunic, but I withdrew.
He whirled on me, his eyes wide. “You did it!”
“Gee, don’t look so surprised. It’s a little insulting.”
“No,” he said, clearly flabbergasted. “How did you do it?”
I shrugged. “I just did. I don’t know.”
His eyes narrowed. “I often wonder if you’re hiding things. Keeping secrets behind those pretty blue eyes.”
My stomach fluttered as he leaned in, the tip of his horn raking into my hair.
“I’m an open book, Aries. Unlike you and my brother. Ask me something, and if I know, I’ll tell you. Will you do the same?” His eyes held mine hostage. I caught my breath, took a step backward, and sheathed my knife. “I think that’s enough practice for today.”
He gazed at me shrewdly. “The strike was impressive, however, all that came before it was not. You need more practice, but perhaps another day. And perhaps with Kes.”
I nodded, still gulping air. “If you can’t handle it, sure.”
Wrong. Thing. To. Say.
Aries laughed darkly, the deep timbre filling the room. He pulled me to him, flush with his skin. “You think I can’t? You know the games you’re playing, Lark…the teasing?” He brushed a finger on the knotted fabric closest to my collar bone. “You can’t win.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Maybe I need a better instructor than Kes. Someone more thorough. I wonder if Aquarius would help me. I could dress in gold for him.”
“I would rather die,” he gritted.
My eyes widened as I took in his harried breath, the way his teeth raked together, how his hand had tightened on my arm.
His eyes blazed in the split second before he disappeared from the room, the warmth from his hand lingering on my arm.
ARIES
I raked my claws through my hair, tugging at the ends, pacing the floor of my room and telling myself I shouldn’t go back to her.
To kiss her until she couldn’t breathe and forbid her from ever wearing gold again.
25
I sat on the balcony with Kes, content and comfortable. He’d ‘shopped’ in the nearest town for two matching Adirondack chairs. They were stark white, made of hard plastic, and looked completely out of place on this medieval stone ledge, but I loved them. He was kicked back, his shoes beside him and his arms folded behind his head, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him since before this nightmare began.
“When you went to check on Mom and Dad, I was afraid you were never coming back,” I blurted out of the blue, the need to tell him crawling up my throat. “And part of me wanted that. I wanted you to be with one of them. Well, with Mom. She loves you so much, Kes. But then I thought about what she’d want. She’d want us together, safe.”
“I talked to her, but only for a moment. I showed her we were together,” he rasped, tensing once more. “I left her so Libra wouldn’t find her, but I can’t promise she never will.”
“I know that.”
He blew out a breath, then sat up and looked over at me, placing his elbows on his thighs. “Larken, I love Mom, but you are my family. You saw me and accepted me when no one else ever had. You welcomed me.”
I snorted. “I put a knife to your throat, Kes. That wasn’t exactly the warm welcome you’re painting.”
“Still.” He swatted at me. “I’d protect you with my life. And much to my chagrin, I know you’d protect me with yours.”
I smiled. Yep. I would.
My smile fell away. “It’s been more than forty-eight hours. I know you said I wouldn’t last that long unless I took Aries’s mark, but I think we’re both shocked I lasted this long anyway.”
He swallowed and looked down, picking at an imaginary thread on the seam of his jeans.