I nod hesitantly and sigh. “Alta-,” I say.
But he cuts me off, pressing his lips against mine fiercely. My entire being explodes with brilliant light and flame as he cups my face in his hands. I lean into him and my fingers find a purchase on his shoulders. I dig my fingers into his muscles, clutching at him. His lips are soft and warm and fierce. Our lips move as one and I imagine that our hearts beat to the same rhythm.
A small gasp escapes me as I feel his tongue dart across my bottom lip. But he doesn’t take the kiss any further than that. He kisses me as if he just needed to know that I’m real. That I’m here with him. So, I curl my fingers around his cheeks, feeling the short bristles of his facial hair. Desire floods through me. I want more than this. My body desperately needs more from him, and I know I want it just as much. Whatever it is that I feel for Altair, it’s only heightened by the tender way he kisses me.
He pulls away, panting, but doesn’t release my face. Altair stares deeply into my eyes, his lips slightly parted. I know my cheeks are flushed, and that I’m breathing just as heavily. For what feels like hours, we simply stare at one another and I imagine he can see right into my soul. Right into my deepest thoughts and desires. And they all revolve around him.
Finally, his hands slip away from my face and he moves back. “I’m sorry,” he says, not sounding very apologetic at all. “But I had to punish you for your insolent tone.”
I gape at him. But despite the outrage on my face, I feel a tendril of excitement at his words. “You’re unbelievable.”
He bites his lip and then grins at me. “I believe it’s my turn in the game.”
“Fine,” I sigh, falling back into the chair. I shake my head and roll my eyes as he settles into his own arm chair.
“If you weren’t a librarian, what would you do?” He asks.
“Indiana Jones,” I blurt.
“Indiana Jones?” His brows furrow in confusion. “What is this?”
I pluck at a stray thread on my trousers. “Not what; who.”
Altair is quiet and curious as I launch into my explanation of the famous adventuring archaeologist. He insists that I tell him the stories and our game of questions quickly devolves into an argument about Jones.
“Must the woman always die?” Altair asks, anger tinging his voice.
I laugh. “Well not always, but it’s a simple way to make sure he can have a love interest later.”
Altair grumbles under his breath but doesn’t stop me as I plunge back into the forays of Dr. Jones. He interrupts from time to time with questions, mostly surrounding the artifacts in the stories. I do my best to explain and Altair catches on quickly.
The more I speak, the more his eyes soften, and we find ourselves leaning imperceptibly towards each other. My gaze drops to his lips, quirked into a smile. I want to save Altair, but I don’t know how. And if I can’t, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life pining after a man I couldn’t save. So, I keep my distance, and focus my attention on the stories.
If I save him, maybe I could open up to him more. Maybe this could be something. But then again, I’ll die in another seventy years at most. And Altair will live on for thousands. I falter, my sentence fading into silence.
“What is it?” Altair asks.
I drag my eyes away from the flames to meet his worried gaze. “I should go. It’s getting late.”
“It’s barely ten,” he says, eyes narrowing.
“Just let me go, Altair,” I snap, rising.
He presses his lips together. Silently, he waves towards the door. I rush past him, but his hand snakes out and snatches my writs. I yelp as he pulls me backward into his lap. With my legs draped over the arm rest, I strain my neck to keep upright. His face hovers over mine, an intelligent gleam in his eyes.
“What are you doing?” I ask, voice strained.
“More punishment for presuming to tell the King what to do,” he purrs.
A thrill courses through me, heating blooming in my body. I stare at him with wide eyes, expecting him to kiss me. But he doesn’t. Altair drags a finger from my temple down my cheek. I shiver as he trails it down my neck and along my ribs. When my breath hitches in my throat as his finger runs along my thigh, he grins wickedly.
Suddenly, he has me upright, hair disheveled and mouth gaping. He eyes me from the chair, propping his chin in his hand. “Goodnight, Verity,” he murmurs.
I blink at him and force my body to move. Walking stiffly, I manage to make it out of his room before turning a bright shade of pink. He knows exactly what he does to me. I bite my lip, picturing the delicious smirk he wore as he teased me. My heart is beating wildly, emotions running rampant. Everything I do, every moment I spend with him, only brings us closer. It’s a dangerous place to be; close to Altair. But I don’t want it any other way, I realize as my heart pounds. How much longer can I convince myself that I don’t want him?
Chapter 17
Altair
I’m beginning to wonder if it will ever get boring teasing Verity. I doubt it. Somehow, she always manages to surprise me with her reactions. The moment I expect her to lash out at me, she’ll blush prettily instead. I stretch my wings behind me, letting the wind ruffle through the silky feathers. Since the ball, all I’ve been able to think about is Verity.
It was on this tower that I first learned of Verity’s existence from Navi. This is
