The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,47
more warning that I was running out of juice—”
He shook his head at her. A gentle remonstration for him. She’d expected flat-lipped irritation. “You don’t have to be brave and do everything yourself all the time, you know.”
Meira wrinkled her nose. “I’m not brave. My sisters are, but I have to fake it.”
Samael leaned closer. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
She waited, casting her gaze over his harsh features, trying to make sense of the emotions surrounding her.
“We all have to fake being brave,” he said.
Meira gave an indelicate snort. “Some more than others.”
Rather than laugh at her, though his lips twitched, Samael reached out and tweaked a curl. “I think you’re brave.”
“You think I’m reckless.”
He shrugged. “Maybe if more people were your kind of reckless, the world would be a…kinder…place.”
Whoa. Where was this coming from?
He grinned, his face lighting up and stealing the air from her lungs. “Even if it gives me a daily heart attack.”
Meira chuckled, relaxing into the way his emotions cossetted her. No longer screaming, though a tension rode the edges. Worry. Fear. Something else.
“Would it help to know that I won’t leave you?”
Until this was all over, he must’ve meant. Except her heart took off at the thought of him watching over her always.
She gazed into his dark eyes—not fathomless or cold, but warm, reaching inside her.
Except Samael didn’t get to be that person for her. She’d made promises. Plans that affected many more than herself. And Samael was loyal to his king.
“Meira?” he asked, voice turning low and rumbly.
Oh gods. Had her longing reflected in her eyes? Had she given away her secret wishes, dreams she’d held close, tucked into dark spaces inside her where they couldn’t make her ache for things? Impossible things.
She cleared her throat. “What time is it?”
He gave her a narrow-eyed, searching look, then sat back, pulling his emotions back inside himself, leaving her cold. “Evening. Back to using up all your…juice. In case it happens again, how does that work? I didn’t even know it was a possibility.”
She plucked at the blanket. A patchwork quilt, she could now see in the dim light. “It’s a bit like dragon fire. I mean, I think of my power like a tank that I use up, so I knew I didn’t have an unlimited supply. Unfortunately, it turns out my powers cutting out on me is a lot like the way alcohol affects me. I skip the getting-drunk feeling and go straight from nicely buzzed to puking. I honestly didn’t know I was that drained until I started swaying.”
“Good to know.” He shook his head again. “Remind me to keep you away from alcohol.”
She smiled and he stilled, suddenly intent, and a ribbon of desire threaded through a hole in the wall. Meira did her best to mute the emotions. Her own well-guarded frustration surging to meet his didn’t help.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked. Apparently, they were going to act like nothing was going on between them.
“Better. Still tired. Hungry.”
He nodded slowly. “Hopefully it won’t take you long to recharge?”
She flopped back against her pillows. “We’ll both have to find that out the hard way. I’ve never used it so fast or so long before.” Or teleported quite so far, come to think on it. There was a big difference between jumping from western Russia to England versus western Russia to the U.S. followed by South America right after.
“Meira.”
His voice shook her out of her head, and she pushed back up to sitting only to frown at the expression in his eyes. “Yes, Samael?”
He paused a beat. “You called me Sam earlier.”
“I hope you weren’t offended—”
He shook his head. “I don’t mind when you say it.”
Oh. Dang. There went her heart again, wishing impossible wishes.
He sobered. “I need to tell you something.” A new emotion hit her, though she could tell he was trying to claw it back inside him only to have it slip from his fingers. Like he was trying to find the right way, the right direction. Like he was lost.
Apprehension had her gathering the blanket to her chin. “I really hate it when people start out a conversation that way. It only means bad things.”
“Sorry.” He stared at her, seeming to search for words. Then jumped to his feet. In the months she’d known him, Samael Veles had only once shown his emotions outwardly, always in perfect control. Solid. Unshakable.
Until this moment.
“Sam?” His intensity built, like a presence in the room with them, pressing into her. “Talk