Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)

She stops pacing and gives me an accusing look. “Aren’t you even curious why my torque isn’t working?” she asks, her voice rising.

I step a little closer to lower the volume. “Look, we’ll bring it to Marius’s attention tomorrow, right? For now we just need to get through tonight.”

“How do I know I’m not going to do something horrible? All that stuff we did today isn’t going to help me stop anything big—I can’t control this.”

Her desperation is palpable. I want to ease her worry, but I’m not sure what to say. It’s not as if this Introduction can be put off now. I’ve never heard of a torque not working before. I just assumed her power was overwhelming it, not that it was faulty. But with what happened in the alley, it’s hard to tell.

“Focus on something calm and soothing,” I say.

She glowers at me. “Seriously? You want me to go to my happy place?”

“Isn’t there anything in all of this that makes you feel good?” I ask.

Her features soften as she studies me, considering my question, then color rises in her cheeks.

“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mutters, looking away. “I told you, I’m a mess.”

I’m completely lost. “You’re making this impossible to fix, Sage. Just talk to me.”

“I can’t. You of all people I can not talk to about this.”

“That seems ridiculous.”

“Well, that’s me. Ridiculous Sage. She burns down guesthouses and wakes up hot naked men who attack her with birds and apparently kiss Aelia.”

“What the bloody hell are you on about?”

“Who knows.”

I shake my head, exasperated. “You’ve lost me, woman.”

She covers her face with her hands and moans into them. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you loony right along with me.”

I study her, trying to decide how to calm her. She’s been thrown into this, forced to absorb a lot in only days, when most Otherborn have years to get used to our world. She’s handled it amazingly well, considering.

I soften my voice. “It’s all right, Sage.”

She looks up from her hands. “Don’t be nice to me when I’m acting nuts.”

“I promise not to let it become a habit,” I say softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face before I can stop myself. I shouldn’t be touching her.

Her eyes lock on mine and something odd passes between us. There’s a tug at the center of my chest, pulling me toward her.

I keep my feet planted, but as I lower my hand, my fingers brush her shoulder, her soft skin warm against mine.

The torch a few feet away hisses, the flame brightening a little.

“It’s you,” she says, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the fountain.

I frown.

She shifts closer. “You’re the only thing that makes me feel like I might belong here.”

My pulse picks up.

There’s pain reflected in her eyes as she looks up at me. “But you terrify me at the same time,” she whispers. And her hand comes up, resting gently on my chest. It shivers against my sweater, revealing her fear.

A twinge pricks just under her palm, and I know she’s pulling threads of life from me. For some reason, I don’t care. “Why do I terrify you?”

She lowers her arm back to her side and the sensation fades.

“Because,” she says, “that part of me that needs, that wants . . . it wants you.”

She means her hunger. She feels her hunger spark when she’s with me. It must be scaring her. The trouble is, I feel something too. But I have no excuse.

I step back. “It’s all right. After you choose your protector tonight, they’ll help you learn to control your hunger. It won’t feel like this forever.” And as I look at her, my own body reacting, I’m really hoping she’s about to settle on it not being me. This girl could turn out to be the death of my freedom.

She turns away. “Right.”

Pain filters into the air in a soft mist near her shoulders, and an unwelcome spark of guilt hits me.

An idea forms in my mind, and even as I tell myself it’s horrible, I decide I want to try it, anyway. Marius said I should make her feel settled. That I should use whatever means necessary to help her stay connected to us. And the appalling bloody truth is, I want to feel her one more time.

So I step closer, ignoring my quickening pulse. “I can show you. Just once.”

Her wide eyes shine in the moonlight, full of confusion.

“You can control your hunger, Sage.” I let myself reach out again, sliding my palm down her arm, taking her wrist in my hand. “You just have to understand it.” I place her palm on the side of my neck, not letting my eyes leave hers. A gold mist filters from her chest as her fingers slide over my nape, and a sting follows as she begins to pull, already feeding. I can tell she’s not aware of it, though. “You have to listen to the stirring in your belly and make it bend to your will, instead of the other way around. Can you feel it?”

She nods slowly.

“Tell me what it feels like,” I say as the familiar sting grows.

She licks her lips. “Warm and . . . comforting.” Her fingers flex against my neck.

“That’s the pull. What else do you feel?”

“My body is tingling and I smell . . . you.”

“That’s my energy filling your skin.”

“It is?”

“You’re feeding right now.”

Her eyes grow and she tries to jerk away, but I hold her hand to the side of my neck.

“Don’t be afraid,” I say. “Remember how it felt today, your energy in your blood. Just let yourself feel what it’s doing a little at a time. And then push it back down. Like you’re closing a door inside yourself.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, threads of panic in her voice.

I move closer until our chests are nearly touching and brush my fingers over her cheek. “Close your eyes and let yourself understand it, Sage. You’ll never learn to control it if you don’t try.”

Her eyes flutter shut. The sting becomes an ache in my head and shoulder as her pull deepens, but I stay focused on her, on her chest rising and falling, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip, and I find her breath echoing mine.

“I feel it,” she says, in awe. “I’m pushing it back.”

And sure enough, the pain in my neck and shoulder dissipates, only the heat left behind in my skin. Her eyes open, and a smile lights her face. But as she begins to back away, I have the exact opposite of a sane response.

My body leans in. My lips find hers. And every molecule I’m made of sighs with relief.

She gasps into my mouth, her surprise filtering between us, making me grip her neck and pull her closer. I need her closer. My fingers slip into her hair, and a new surge of energy spreads through my chest. But this time it’s not from her hungry nature. This time it’s mine. As my power surges through me, pushing me, forcing me to want more.

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