We left the store in silence. Stas whistled a tune I didn't recognize, light-footed, walking a pace ahead. It seemed his mood had thawed quickly after we'd spoken of his mother, and I was glad to see him so simple, so genuine again. The summer wind played with the longer strands of his fringe. He must have been in such a hurry to get back to the Edelweiss Garden that he hadn't bothered with his usual, slightly unruly styling. In the sunlight, his hair shimmered with a noble copper glow. It made me want to reach out, to feel the warmth and softness beneath my fingers, to breathe in that familiar blend of forest and spice woven into his skin—a scent that had long since become home.
I would miss this strange boy who had burst into my life—the first to tell me the truth about the dark underbelly of Xertoni, of which I was now a part. Bound by a thread as fine yet as unbreakable as steel, we had left our marks on each other's lives: he had stood by me through my first metamorphoses, helped me wrestle down the pain and resentment, often at the cost of his own good mood. And I had stayed with Stas even when there was no one else left. I had seen his weakness when others looked away, and I had never turned aside.
The car's rear lights blinked as Stas tossed our shopping bag into the sedan's trunk. Then he walked around the car and, with a small, courtly gesture, opened the passenger door for me. Habit almost won out; I nearly snapped at him again, but I caught myself. I would not ruin our last days together. The best farewell I could offer was to make new memories—ones that would keep me warm next winter, when most of the Smirnov family had scattered and the city lay under a dark shroud. The wolves' troubles would remain the same—perhaps worse—once the hereditary vampires left the earth, and it would be my family's duty to guard Xertoni's peace until the winds shifted or we ourselves were driven back by the rising tide of the newly turned weak-blooded.
I smiled and slipped into the car. Stas climbed behind the wheel and finally removed his sunglasses. Dark circles pooled under his eyes as though he hadn't slept for days, and yet even they couldn't dim his natural beauty.
"You've gone awfully quiet," he said, studying my face. "Is something wrong?"
Now or never, Asya.
Kaandor untangled the knot of contradictions in my head far better and faster than I could myself. For the first time, I trusted my dark companion in the moment—impulsively, swiftly.
I leaned forward before I could change my mind, before fear could seize my body. My lips found his and stilled there, waiting to see if he would push me away. That single heartbeat of hesitation felt like torture. Then his warm palm cupped my cheek, slid back to cradle my neck, and stole away any chance of retreat. Stas kissed me with a hunger edged in tenderness, and I drowned in the surge of feeling rising from the pit of my stomach to my heart.
If not for the gearshift between us, our bodies would already have melted into one. His free hand drifted to my legs; his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns across my knee, sending tremors of pleasure through me that I had never thought myself capable of. God—if only it could always be like this.
I ached to touch him, to pluck at the strings of his soul as he had at mine. I couldn't deny myself. My palm pressed to his chest, and beneath it his heart beat wild and hard. He was breathing heavily, unable to pull himself away, and I would have sold my soul to stay frozen in that moment forever. And to hell with the fact that we were in a car, parked God knows where.
For me, there was only Stas. And though I already knew the honeyed taste of his lips, knew every inch of his body better than my own, in this instant everything happened for the first time—real, honest, unguarded. Fevered, searing with all the unsaid words straining to be spoken.
I loved him for who he was, not who he seemed. Not for his family's money, not for his status. Not for the way anyone beside him became a star in the eyes of others. He wasn't my trophy. And if loving him meant I'd burn in hell, so be it. I needed him like air—air that felt achingly scarce in the car's cabin. So scarce that, despite the summer outside, the windows seemed to fog. A translucent veil shielded us from prying eyes; and even if it hadn't, I wouldn't have cared.
There was only him and me. Together. And nothing could take us from each other for the next hour. I wouldn't beg fate for eternity; she is cruel to those who plead. Instead, I would take what I desperately wanted, living this one moment, now. The moment when Stas's eyes darken as he leans over me, when the leather upholstery chills my skin just enough to make me shiver. I could barely breathe—and yet I doubted I would ever be happier than I was right then.
He looked at me as if he were trying to memorize every particle of my body. His fingers followed his gaze, learning each inch of me by touch. He was here—entirely, completely—with me, body and soul.
Stas touched me with a careful reverence, as though I were fragile crystal. A fleeting pain gave way to a new surge of love, flowing through my veins like a radiant recognition. My feelings for him, immense as they already were, unfolded into facets I had never imagined. The rhythm of our closeness etched itself line by line into a sweet melody, quickening its tempo in the score written by our bodies.
It had not been like this the last time—no, this was different. Now I felt wholly myself, filled with a vivid flame that spread with every heartbeat, eclipsing reason. Our souls danced in the blazing fire, clinging to each other as if trying to keep balance on a narrow beam suspended over a gaping darkness. One misstep, and happiness would be lost.
But instead of a bitter ending, what awaited us was the summit of rapture.