The Warrior King (Inferno Rising) Owen, Abigail (books to read for 13 year olds TXT) 📖

“I never knew my father, but I know what it’s like to lose both parents.” Meira had to stop and swallow down a grief still fresh. She forced images of her mother to leave her mind, focusing, instead, on Samael’s pain. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He turned his head and searched her face. Still no emotions. Nothing to help her. Meira got the distinct impression that he was debating with himself. Perhaps the stiff way he held his mouth.

Her breath caught in her throat when he covered her hand with his own and squeezed. “It will get easier for you,” he said. “The memories. For a long time, you won’t want to think of your mother at all. Then one day when you do, it won’t hurt so much. Eventually, you’ll be able to think of her and smile.”

This from a man who never smiled. At least not that he let her see. The unexpected offer of comfort unfurled inside her, wrapped around her. Gods above, she wanted to kiss him. Lean forward and steal that unexpected understanding from his lips. Lips Meira could only describe as sensual, saving his face from harshness.

And more. All different sorts of kisses. A soft brush of her lips as a thank-you. A kiss that lingered, taking its time to weave a spell around them. Something hot and openmouthed that let her taste him and generated enough heat to scorch every part of her. She was already on fire.

Except she shouldn’t be wanting this. Any of it.

More guilt. She’d suffocate under the heaps if she wasn’t careful.

Meira slid her hand out from beneath his, the cold air of the room rushing against her palm making her shiver after the heat of his touch and her thoughts. “So…back to what I was asking. What about someone who could help us? Is there anyone like that we could get in touch with?”

Though his expression didn’t change, she got the distinct impression he was scowling on the inside before he turned his head to stare up at the canopy again. “I need to let my beta know what’s happening. He’s in charge now. He’ll decide what to do. Otherwise, I don’t want to bring anyone else into this mess.”

The man had a protective streak a fathom wide, it appeared. Which made her less special in his eyes, his watching over her coming from who he was, not who she was to him.

And I’m not disappointed that I’m not special. Even she didn’t believe herself, the twinge plucking at her heart evidence enough.

“So, do you have any friends?” Curiosity prompted her to ask. Gods, why couldn’t she shut up around him? This conversation was already a thousand words more than she usually shared with people.

Samael heaved a sigh with an edge to it and turned his head to face her again. “Do you always have this many questions?”

She offered him a prim look, lips pursed. “My lawyers say I don’t have to answer that.”

Samael gazed at her blankly, then turned his face back up. “Was that you trying to be funny?”

“Did it work?” She bit her lip, waiting for his answer. Most people didn’t get her sense of humor.

“That depends.”

“On what?” she prompted when he didn’t continue.

“Your intent. Were you genuinely trying to make me laugh? Or were you trying to change the subject?”

What if she was trying to flirt? Clearly failing miserably at it. Pathetic. Not to mention she was promised to another man who may or may not be dead. A fact that kept slipping her mind despite finding the king being the only reason she and Samael were together at this point.

“I guess I’m nervous.” Now why had she gone and admitted that?

Rather than turn his head again, Samael shifted to his side to face her, his smoke and sand scent swirling around her, soothing her when she should’ve been bracing for whatever he was about to ask. His hand lay on the mattress beside hers. Not touching. What would he do if she hooked her little finger around his, as though he was her anchor?

Maybe he’d been right to want to avoid sharing the bed. This was too close, too intimate. Too damn confusing.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

She should lie and say yes. Any person with an ounce of common sense would be wary of him. His danger evident in the simple way he moved—a prowling, rolling gait—screamed perilous predator.

Meira slowly shook her head. “No.”

Nervous of giving her unfortunate thoughts away? Yes. Of the lash of his volatile emotions? The answer would have been yes before they’d come here. Now…

“You should be,” he said, voice going rougher, harsher.

She gazed into a face devoid of emotion and yet sensed his urgency just the same. “Why would you say that?”

“You don’t know me. Not truly. I’m as dangerous as they come.”

Meira shook her head. “If you wanted to harm me, you would already have done it.”

“I could be a spy. Getting you on your own, or getting you to reveal where you’ve been hiding, may have been my agenda all along. What if I have signaled others to come attack and now am waiting for them to arrive?”

Was that why he’d been watching out the window? She thought through his words and actions this entire day. No.

“You wouldn’t.” In truth, she’d been watching him closely for months. Watching everyone around her closely, as she always had done, even in childhood. Samael in particular, though. A morbid sort of fascination for a man whose emotions, if let loose, could flay her to the bone.

The leather of his gauntlets creaked, which told her he was making fists. A tell she had noticed a while ago. He didn’t like having her trust? Why?

“What if I killed Gorgon?” he threw at her next.

Given their interactions, the loyalty Samael showed his king, Meira couldn’t help the tiny laugh that punched from her at that. “You would never.”

“No?”

He wanted her to doubt him for some unknown reason.