Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
He sucked in a deep breath, reaching for it with both hands.
“Thank you,” he murmured, tears filling his eyes as he lifted his armor to press the heart back into his chest.
There was a brief moment of pure bliss in his eyes. Before he, too, turned to ash.
“No!” I cried, rushing forward.
But it was no use.
He was gone.
When the wind kicked up, there was nothing left of him at all.
“I didn’t mean to kill him,” I said, dropping to my knees where he had stood just a moment before.
“You didn’t kill him,” Nathaniel said, coming in at my side, his hand pressing between my shoulder blades. “I think he was trapped there,” he told me, his hand sliding up and down my spine. “His heart was a sacrifice made to keep the labyrinth alive. For who knows how long. You didn’t kill him; you released him.”
“I wish that difference made me feel better,” I said, turning to press my forehead into his shoulder.
“You gave him what he wanted most,” Nathaniel assured me, his arms going around me, holding onto me tight. “You gave him his freedom.”
That was true.
I couldn’t imagine the guardian had wanted to be trapped in that labyrinth for all of eternity. With no one to keep him company. With nothing to do but come to blows with those he did occasionally come across. That was no life.
My mind flashed back to the longing in his eyes when he’d seen his heart again.
To the pleading there had been when I’d wanted to give it to him.
Nathaniel was right. Giving him back his heart had been mercy. It had been what he wanted, what his soul needed to know peace once again.
Death wasn’t a curse.
It wasn’t the end.
I knew far too many ghosts to think that life ended with our final human breaths.
I mean, even vampires were proof that this wasn’t the end. Though, I was pretty sure I’d rather be a ghost than someone who had to exist on blood.
“Yeah,” I agreed finally.
“You did it,” Nathaniel said, his hands releasing me, and it took all the strength I had left in me not to whimper about that. His hands went instead to my face, cradling it in them as his lovely blue eyes bore into me. “You did it,” he said, hands pressing a little more firmly into my skin. “You must be so proud of yourself,” he added. Then, because my heart wasn’t feeling all warm and squishy enough already, he had to add, “I’m so proud of you.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, surprising me more than him as his thumbs moved out to catch them as they slid down my cheeks.
“I knew you were so much more powerful than you even realized,” he went on. “You were amazing.”
Some cynical part of me tried to whisper that he was only saying that because I got him what he wanted so badly.
The other, wiser part, though, screamed that he had what he wanted, and there was no reason for him to be praising me now unless he really meant it, really wanted me to hear him say it.
“Not bad for someone whose sloth and gluttony got the best of her, huh?” I asked, blinking away the rest of the tears.
“Not bad at all,” he agreed, his hand shifting down on my face so that when his thumb stroked again, it wasn’t across my cheek but teasing the edge of my lower lip.
Suddenly, all of the exhaustion, frustration, fear, and relief slipped away. Leaving nothing but the surge of desire as it shot through my system.
My pulse quickened, my heart a battering ram against the confines of my ribcage. Need pooled in my core, becoming a firm pressure in my lower stomach that demanded to be noticed with each passing second.
My breath got quick and shallow, my eyelids heavy.
I knew by the way blue flames sparked in Nathaniel’s eyes that he saw the change in me.
Testing my reaction, his thumb swiped again, this time over the swell of my lower lip.
They parted in invitation.
And finally, without the magic of the labyrinth playing with us, the interest we’d both been feeling since almost the beginning took root, spread.
Without the worries of magical manipulation, there was no restraint in either of us as Nathaniel’s lips crashed down on mine, swallowing my moan.
His hands slipped backward, one hand gripping the back of my neck, the other sliding up into my hair, sending shivers down my spine as his lips deepened the kiss.
My own hands were greedy, slipping up his sides, then tracing up his back, moving across his strong shoulders, teasing into his soft hair, then moving down again.
It wasn’t long before my hands grew impatient, grabbing the material of his suit jacket and sliding it off of his shoulders, leaving his upper half bare to me as his tongue traced the seam of my lips, then slid inside to claim mine as my lips fell open, inviting him in.