Chapter 25

It was hungrier than last time, this kiss.

Coen wasn't just filling me, but demanding me, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth before he withdrew just enough to whisper against my lips, "Has anyone touched you here before?"

I shuddered against the scrape of his fingers over my breasts—above my shirt, but hard enough to make them pebble against him.

"Yes," I breathed.

Wilder had touched me through my clothes back in Alderwick, but it had never felt like this. Coen tutted and said, "Let's get his name out of your head, shall we? I only want mine inside you right now."

He moved his hands lower. For a thigh-clenching moment, I thought he was going to dip all the way down… but then his hands dug beneath my shirt and rose up again, stroking me skin-to-skin, finding my bra and sweeping around to unclip me from behind. And then his bare hands were cupping me, his thumbs making circles around my peaks.

"How about this?" he asked, his drawl fading away as something more urgent took its place.

I managed to shake my head. "Not… not exactly."

My hips rose to meet his body as if against my will, and I felt it, then. His own desire, hard and large and unyielding. I tipped my head back at the pressure, at the need for more, closing my eyes against the brilliance of a million gemstones.

Coen heard me. He always heard me. His hands snaked down my ribcage and latched onto the apex of my thighs over my pants, but it wasn't enough.

"So impatient," he murmured against my neck.

"Maybe I wouldn't be if you went a little faster."

I didn't even know what I was saying, just that I was letting whatever came to mind spill out of my mouth and into his.

At my words, his hands yanked down my pants and the scrap of lace beneath. The cave air bit into me, chilling me, but he pressed himself fully against me until his body heat had stifled any trace of the cold.

"What about here?" he said. "Has anyone ever touched you here?"

One of his hands cupped the back of my neck, holding me in place, while the other… the other spread each of my thighs apart, one by one, and slid down to where I ached and throbbed and needed him. His fingers found their mark.

No. No one had ever touched me there, but I could revel in it forever, the pressure and movement of his fingers pushing further and further into me until…

I couldn't suck in a breath fast enough. Couldn't get enough of this.

"Is this enough experimentation for you?" Coen asked, tilting his head as if it was such an innocent little question. As if his own hunger wasn't sparking in his eyes.

"No," I choked out. "Not… not nearly enough." My fingers scrabbled at his back as his fingers moved inside me, exploring my body from the inside-out. He was staring at me, now, a look of utter fascination stealing over his whole face.

I stared back, realizing with a jolt that Coen Steeler was…. was actually in me and not acting haughty or boastful or smug or anything I would have expected.

Rayna Drey.

His voice was a caress in my mind. He didn't make a single comment about the moans escaping my mouth or the small puddle I was surely making or the way my hips arched against his touch again and again, delirious for more, more, more.

You are much too lovely for this world, was all Coen said, and it was his name—his name only—that raged like a waterfall in my head as he stroked me deeper into bliss.

We got back to Bascite Boulevard by dawn, where Coen kissed me goodbye right in front of all those windows and left me by the front door of my house.

I walked inside, exhaustion touching down on my shoulders for the first time since the Testing Center… but the butterfly wings beating in my ribcage wouldn't die down.

We'd made out for hours, touching each other in every way except for that final one, the one neither of us could bear to do in a semi-open cave. But God of the Cosmos, I'd never known I could lose myself in pure, carnal feeling before. No thinking. Just touching and exploring and tasting and losing myself to him and his skin.

Almost to the stairs, I lurched to a stop at the sight of Emelle, dozing upright on one of the sofas, her outfit from last night blending in with the sofa's velvet fabric. As if she'd fallen asleep waiting for me to come home.

Oh, shit.

"Melle?" I rushed forward and shook her shoulder. "Hey, Melle, I'm here."

Her eyes fluttered open. Dazed, she blinked away her sleep and took me in.

"Rayna." Her focus sharpened. She sat up straighter. "Rayna. Where the hell were you? Willa said you'd gone somewhere with Coen, but she didn't know where. And after those tests that screwed everyone over, I was so worried something had gone wrong with yours."

The butterflies in my heart fell dead at her expression, a mix of something I'd never seen on Emelle's face before: fear mixed with… distrust. Aimed at me.

Something crumpled within me, because how could I tell her the truth? I didn't think she would ever run off and tell the Good Council about my forbidden power, but I also didn't want to involve her, not when she'd be at risk for it.

"I failed the last test," I started haltingly. "I—I couldn't get those cockroaches off me, and was really upset by the time I left, so I called for Coen. As a distraction." The words came out like rocks, clunkier and heavier than they should have been.

Emelle's face didn't break from that horrible, mistrusting expression.

"You failed the test like everyone else and thought running away with your crush for the night, without telling any of your friends where you were going or how long you'd be out—you thought that was a good idea?"

I'd never heard such sharp edges to her words, and I felt myself cringing.

"Hearing you say that out loud, no, it doesn't seem like it was a good idea. I'm really sorry, Emelle. I should have told you where I was going so you didn't worry."

"It's not just that." Now the sharpness of her voice cracked a bit. "It's the thought that you didn't think I could help you. I want to help you, Rayna, just like you're always helping me. I want to be there for you, but I can't if you don't let me."

"I'm sorry," I said again, and now a single tear bit into the corner of my eye. Tell her something true, I begged myself, if you can't tell her about Ms. Pincette's warning.

I lowered myself onto the cushion beside her.

"I think… I think I'm afraid that you'll abandon me like Quinn did, if I mess up somehow. I'm afraid I'll hold you back by clinging to you, and you'll resent me just as much as she did." My vision swam as the full weight of what I was saying sunk in. "I don't want to lose you."

"Oh, Rayna."

Emelle folded her arms around me and brought me close. She didn't say anything for a moment, just squeezed and rocked, before pulling back to look at me.

"You can cling to me all you want, okay? That's just the beauty of getting to pick your friends. Some people don't like that level of closeness, but I do." She smiled. "And I'm so grateful you chose to say hi to me after the Branding, because I couldn't ask for a better best friend to go through these next five years with."

Now I choked on a watery laugh.

"I think I'm the lucky one, Melle. But thank you. And I promise I'll let you know next time I go running off." I swiped a wrist across my eyes to clear the tears beading on my lashes. "By the way," I sniffed, "how did your test go?"

"Ugh." She leaned her head against the sofa's back pillows. "I couldn't get that stupid owl's riddle. Or, I guess I'm the stupid one, because I gave it a slug when apparently it had been asking for a toad. So said Mr. Conine."

I blew out a whistle. "I nearly failed that one. And the cockroaches killed me."

Almost literally.

Emelle cocked her head at me now. "When you say you called for Coen to distract you…?"

"No. We didn't have sex." I glanced around for signs of Jenia or Kimber before whispering, "but we did kiss."

Emelle squealed and clapped her hands. "I knew it. You look like something went down between you two." She gestured at my hair. If it had been a nest before my time with Coen, I couldn't imagine what it looked like now. "Where did you go, anyway?"

I was spared having to answer this question by the sudden appearance of Rodhi, who had barged upstairs from the common area and panted, "Cookies. Wren and Gileon made cookies downstairs. Apparently, Gileon's tired of all the combat training with Wren so he forced her to do something else for a change, and I thought I'd give you the courtesy of letting you know before I eat them all."

"How sweet of you, Rodhi," I said, trying not to roll my eyes.

"Anytime, darling." He winked at me. "Hope your night was as fun as your hair suggests it was, by the way. Did you and Steeler finally smash?"

This time it was Emelle who saved me from answering by jumping up.

"I'm gonna go grab Lander. He wouldn't want to miss cookies."

Rodhi and I slipped each other smirks as Emelle ran out the front door.