The door to the guest quarters didn't just close, it was kicked shut with a finality that echoed in Xin Yi's bones.
THUD.
Xin Yi didn't have time to process the geography of the room. All she knew was that she was pinned against the rough wood of the door, her feet dangling inches off the ground, held up effortlessly by the cool, hard bands of Qing Lin's arms.
"Qing Lin," she gasped, her hands instinctively clutching his shoulders to steady herself. "The… the blueprints. The Goddess… the life link…"
"Do not speak of them," Qing Lin hissed.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, desperate and starving. His nose brushed against her pulse point, cold against her fever-warm skin. It was a shock to the system, fire meeting ice, and Xin Yi couldn't suppress the shiver that racked her body.
"You smell of dust," he murmured, his lips grazing her collarbone. "Of that wretched charcoal. And...of Wolf."
