Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 32

Kindra leapt off of Tess's horse before they’d even come to a full stop at the castle gates. She stumbled, nearly losing her balance. Guards rushed for her, asking her a thousand different questions, and she pushed past them all.

"My Lady, we need to know if you are hurt—"

"Jasper," she snapped, "Where is he?"

"His Highness is all right, we need to make sure you are—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Kindra snarled, the shock and adrenaline still coursing through her, wearing her patience razor thin, "I'm fine. Where. Is. Jasper?"

"You should tell her." Tess dismounted from her horse and marched over to the guards. "She won't ask again."

The guards hesitated, and Kindra threw her arms out in frustration."Send Sala after me, if you're so worried. But where is he? The infirmary? His rooms?"

"He's in his rooms, Lady Kindra," one of them finally confessed, and Kindra didn't even thank him before sprinting up the steps to the door.

The castle was in chaos. Squads of guards—more than she'd ever seen—filled the foyer. Courtiers, frenzied and panicked, were chasing them around, squawking like chickens about war and their safety and whether they should leave for their country estates. Kindra ignored all of them. She made her way through the crowd, shoving people out of her way, and took the stairs two at a time. Her body, still not fully recovered from her match with Ryle and now freshly battered from the explosion, protested her every move, but she paid it no heed. Up she went, until she reached the third floor.

Her pace didn't slow as she hurried through the halls. Servants and guards called out to her, but they might as well have said nothing at all, for she didn't hear a word.

Finally, she whipped around a corner and came to his doors. One of them was open, a few guards walking out of it.

She'd only seen the door to Jasper's rooms in passing before; she'd yet to enter his chambers. Kindra had believed the moment she did that, she would be crossing a line of some kind, entering into territory even more uncharted than the one she was currently in.

Well, regardless if that was true, she was crossing that boundary now.

Jasper's raised voice reached her all the way at the end of the hallway.

"You are not answering my question," he was shouting. "Where is Kindra?"

Somebody said something in reply, too quiet for Kindra to hear.

"Did you people just leave her there ?"

"Your Highness," came a small voice, "you were injured, barely even conscious, when they found you—"

"Kindra might be injured as well! How does nobody in this fucking castle know if she's—"

He cut off abruptly as Kindra appeared in the doorway.

The prince stood, shirtless, as a Healer mended a gash along his side. His face was stained with dirt and ash. There was a scrape along his left cheek, but other than that and the wound currently being tended to, he was unharmed. Discarded on the table next to him were his jacket and shirt, torn and bloodied.

"You—" He started, but couldn't speak any further. His face twisted and rippled with a dozen different emotions.

Kindra stepped into the room, chest heaving. Relief, warm and heavy, threatened to make her knees buckle. He was safe. He was alive.

"Leave us," he ordered the guards and servants in the room. The Healer went to protest, still working, but he brushed her off."I'll rest for a few days, and it will be fine. Have some poultice brought up." Again, she tried to argue, but he shook his head firmly. "There are wounded guards and civilians who still need to be seen. Don't spend any more magic on me than you have to."

Finally, after what felt like ages, the room cleared, the last person to leave shutting the door on their way out.

For a moment, Kindra and Jasper simply stared at each other.

Then, Kindra choked out, "I couldn't find you. After the explosion. You were right next to me, I thought—you should have been right next to me—"

"We got blown in separate directions, I think," he said softly. "I hit a table as I was thrown. Ended up half underneath it. Made me hard to find."

A low, pained noise tore from her throat before she could stop it. "I thought—there were people who weren't even recognizable because of the fire, I thought it could have reached you."

Jasper shook his head. His blonde hair was streaked with brown and gray. "When I came to, they didn't know where you were. Nobody knew."

"I couldn't find you," she repeated dumbly, voice haggard and torn, "I was screaming your name, and—and there were dead children, and I couldn't find you—" Her chest seized, and she sucked in a shallow, ragged gasp.

"Kindra," he murmured, reaching for her. "I'm here. I'm alive. We're safe."

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and something in her snapped. The final thread of restraint she'd been clinging to shredded. The sick, cold panic she'd felt today when she'd looked around and he hadn't been there; the thought of him being among the dead; the way he'd looked at her when she'd appeared in his doorway, alive; how he'd been screaming for her the same way she had been for him...

Kindra crossed the room in four strides and threw her arms around him, pressing herself as close to him as she could.He tucked her head into his shoulder and buried his face into the crook of her neck. His arms wound around her, holding her tight.

Her throat tightened and her eyes began to burn, so she shut them tightly, holding the tears back.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered, lips brushing against her skin as he spoke.

"I'm glad you're okay, too," she replied, nestling further into the heat of his body. Hard muscle moved beneath her hands as they stood there, swaying back and forth ever so slightly.

They pulled apart slightly, but still kept their arms wrapped around each other. Kindra stared up into his eyes, struggling to articulate what she was feeling.

So she did the next best thing.

She kissed him.

His lips tasted like smoke and blood. She knew hers did, too, but she didn't care. He made a small, startled noise, and a heartbeat later he was winding his arms tightly around her again, pulling her flush against his body. His bare skin was hot beneath her fingers as she ran her hands down his neck and chest.

One of Jasper's hands came up to cup her face, the other still twisted around her waist. He moaned softly, a tiny, delightful sound that sent a bolt of heat zipping through Kindra.

Her lips moved clumsily against his. It had been a long time since she'd last kissed someone. But he didn't mind her lack of skill or grace. Instead, he only deepened the kiss further, running his tongue along her bottom lip until she opened her mouth for him.

She pulled away first, needing to catch her breath. Jasper rested his forehead against hers, gasping. A smile danced on his lips.

"I was wondering when you might do that," he laughed breathily.

Kindra found she couldn't speak. She felt a myriad of emotions. Not regret, surprisingly enough, though she had a feeling that would come later.

Jasper drew her to him again, but not to kiss her. Instead, he pulled her back into that same tight embrace as before, his hands running up and down her back and arms, as if he was still soaking in the fact that she was alive and okay.

Kindra didn’t know how long they stayed like that. But eventually, the adrenaline faded and she finally felt steady again. And as that steadiness came back, so did the acute awareness that she was pressed against Jasper’s naked chest. And that she’d just kissed him.

She stepped back from him, refusing to meet his eyes. She looked at her hands—they were still stained in some spots with dried blood where her magic hadn’t burned it away. A small whimper escaped her, and she shook her head. “I should—”

“Don’t do that.” He reached out and caught her arm. “Please don’t do that.”

Kindra remained silent, feeling too exposed under his pleading gaze.

“People died today,” he said shakily, like he was still wrapping his head around it. “When I woke up under that table and couldn’t find you, I—” He swallowed. “It was the fiercest panic I’d ever felt, when I thought you were dead.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft, barely audible. She took in the wound on his side; though it was now just a line of pink, healing skin, she could tell it had been a serious injury. Her hand strayed to her throat, where the necklace he’d bought her rested.

“I care about you, Kindra.” He said the words freely, with no trace of reluctance. “Whether you want me to or not.”

I care about you, too. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it, not now—not yet. Not when she still hadn’t fully reconciled that fact with herself. It had been building for days—weeks, if she was honest with herself—but saying it out loud still felt like some admission of weakness. Like she’d lost a battle.

Mercifully, Sala walked in before she had to decide what to say. “Lady Kindra, I was sent to see if you were all right.” Her brown eyes flitted briefly over Jasper’s unclothed torso, widening slightly, and then she turned back to focus on Kindra. “Let me examine you.”

Kindra submitted without protest, silent as Sala ran her hands over the scrapes and cuts, smoothing them away with her gentle magical touch. Jasper vanished into another room, reemerging in fresh, clean clothes, including a shirt. He was still in need of a bath, though. They both were.

She was just about to ask Sala to come with her back to her rooms and give her one when Antone and Sebastian strode in.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Antone said by way of greeting. He looked extremely strained: his hair was slightly ruffled, and his expression lacked its usual ire, replaced by one of tension and worry. “Come with me. We’re to go to the War Chamber.” He paused, grimacing, then waved a hand at Kindra. “Yes, you as well. He wants you there.”

“What, not going to lock me in my rooms this time?” she snapped before she could stop herself .

Antone gave her one of his signature scathing glares. “Unfortunately, I have been overruled.” He turned to leave, Sebastian following, and shot over his shoulder, “Do try not to make a fool of yourself.” Kindra growled under her breath as they left the room.

Jasper gestured to the door. “Well, I suppose you got your wish. To the War Chamber we go.” He looked frustrated, like he’d wanted to continue their conversation from before they’d been interrupted.

And as Kindra moved to his side and they walked into the hall, the feeling of his lips still tingling on hers, she couldn’t help but think that if the cost of her getting into that room had been the violence of today, she wasn’t quite sure it was worth it.