“I’m fine,” I insist, and let go of him. In some tucked-away part of the fire dragon’s treasure, I remember the stiffness born of long riding. I can handle it. But my knees nearly buckle when I try to walk, and I stumble. A wave of frustration hits me. The memories I have, the human memories passed on to me, are from men and women who were much stronger than I am. I keep expecting my body to respond the way my memory says it should, but I am weak and soft.
When my muscles decide to react again, I look at the waterfall filling the air with its loud rumble, and all the frustration of a moment before is whisked away. The water spilling down the side of the cliff is white and no wider than my outstretched arms, but I have never seen something so simply beautiful. Mist is rising up from where the waterfall hits a wide, shallow pool. I step into the mist and close my eyes, slowly turning in a circle as the cool, damp air clings to my hands and neck.
“You’ve never seen a little waterfall like this before, have you?” Golmarr yells so his voice can be heard.
I shake my head and open my eyes and find him staring at me the same way I was staring at the waterfall. “I have never seen or done anything before,” I call, stepping away from the roar so I can hear him better. “Everything is new for me. All of these things I am experiencing are firsts, and I am storing them away so I never forget any of it.” I walk a little ways down the stream the waterfall has created and crouch. “I’m going to remember everything,” I say, sticking my hands into the water and watching how it moves over them. “The cave, the fire dragon, the forest, the Satari. I will never forget any of it.” I cup my hands, bringing water to my mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Golmarr says.
I stand and shake the water from my hands. “Sorry for what?” His eyes are dark with guilt and something else that I can’t identify, but it makes my heart start pounding. “Sorry for what?” I ask again.
“I’m sorry for last night. For that kiss.” My cheeks flare with humiliation. He regrets the kiss. I duck my head and play with the laces of my shirt so I don’t have to look at him, so he can’t see my hurt and confusion. “That was your first kiss, wasn’t it?”
I nod and roll the leather string back and forth between my thumb and middle finger and stare at it like it’s the most fascinating thing I have ever seen. He grabs my hand and stills it. Startled, I look up and meet his eyes. “You deserve better than that for your first kiss. If I could redo it, I would,” he whispers. He unbuckles my wide leather belt and pulls it from my waist.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He grins and drops the belt and dagger to the ground, and his eyes turn fierce. “Making sure you don’t stab me for what I’m about to do to you.” I gasp. “Also, you won’t feel my hands on you through that leather, and I won’t be able to feel you,” he adds, his voice a deep rumble. “A kiss isn’t only about your lips on mine. It is about your hands touching me and my hands touching you, about my body against yours.”
He cups the side of my face in his hand and runs his callused thumb over my bottom lip. My breath catches in my throat as I stare into his eyes. Taking my hand, he places it against his chest, in the space where his shirt hangs open, so my palm is flat against his warm skin. I can feel his heart beating slow and steady. “I want you to feel what you do to my heart when I kiss you, Sorrowlynn.” With those words, my blood begins pumping so fast that my head starts to spin.
He puts both of his strong hands on my hips, and I can feel them there, warm and firm through the lightweight fabric of my skirt. Moving his face down to meet mine, he pauses and looks into my eyes, his lips hovering above my own. “You’re going to want to hold on,” he whispers.
I take my free hand and put it behind his neck. “I’m holding on,” I say.
With a smile, he pulls my body flush against his. Everywhere our bodies touch, there’s heat. I tip my head up, waiting for his kiss. “This…” He brushes his lips over mine. “Is how…” He brushes them over mine again, a feather-soft sensation. “You should have been kissed your first time.” His hands tighten on my hips as he presses his lips firmly to mine, and where my hand is splayed against his chest, I feel his heart burst to life. Closing my eyes, I melt against him.