Wrath Games by B. T. Narro Page B

Swenn.”
    “Me, too.”
    She patted my arm and sat up. “But it’s time to plot.”
    I came up with her. Suddenly it was no longer a question of whether I would kiss her but when. Her voice and her scent…my heart beat as though I’d sprinted across the castle to get to her room.
    “I’ve been thinking that—”
    I interrupted her with a soft kiss to her cheek, holding my lips there and cupping the other side of her face with my hand. I could hear her swallow air as I finished the kiss. She turned to face me.
    “Are you thanking me for something?”
    “No.” I leaned toward her lips.
    She froze, giving me no sign whether she would kiss me back. I paused when my lips couldn’t get any closer without touching hers, giving her a chance to say something, to do something. Her mouth opened slightly, welcoming me.
    A feeling of utmost satisfaction—warm and chilling at the same time—came over me as our lips met. The second kiss followed instantly, then a third, then a fourth, our passion igniting. I laid her flat and hovered over her. She took my face in her hands as we shared another flurry of kisses.
    Suddenly, she let go of my face and put her hands against my chest. “Wait, Neeko, wait, wait, wait.”
    Shame rushed over my entire body. I buried my face in my pillow. “I thought you might feel the same way.”
    “I, but I…wait, just wait, Neeko.” I heard the sheets rustle as she turned toward me. I dislodged my face from the pillow just enough to squint at her with one eye. Her beauty only amplified my pain.
    “Should we just pretend that didn’t happen?” I asked.
    “No.”
    So she was going to make this even more difficult.
    “Help me understand something,” she said. “Why tonight out of all the time we’ve spent together? Are you itching for an intimate romp and thought, hey, Shara might be interested?”
    Oh gods, that was the impression I gave? Panic moved my arm on its own, grabbing her hand.
    “No, Shara. Definitely not.”
    “Then what? Because I…” She squeezed my hand back. “I’m not sure if you’re aware how easily you could hurt me. I feel as fragile as Laney around you.”
    “I would never hurt you.”
    She moved her hand up my arm. “Did I change your mind somehow?”
    “Change my mind? No. I’ve felt this way for a long time.”
    “You…you have?”
    “Yes.”
    “Oh.”
    We were silent for a while.
    “I had no idea,” she said. “Then why wait until now to show me?”
    “I suppose it’s because I’m finally in the right place—I’ve finally given myself the chance to feel it. Right here, right now, you and me. It’s just…right. Or maybe it’s just that I can’t hold it in any longer.”
    She smiled. I brushed the hair away from her forehead, running my nails lightly down her temple. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
    “You are incomparably beautiful.”
    Her eyes popped open and her smile faded. “I’m sure that’s not an exaggeration,” she said with heavy sarcasm.
    “How can you not see your own beauty?”
    She chuckled and burst into rhyme. “Oh, why don’t I start at the top?” She pointed. “My hair is tangled and looks like a mop. My face is certainly not blessed. My grandmother deserves no thanks for my chest. The coarseness of my hands makes me stressed. And have you even seen how I’m often dressed? My—”
    I stopped her with a hand to her cheek. “You’re perfect.”
    “No, Neeko, that’s you.”
    I sputtered out air to show what I thought of that.
    “How can you not see your own beauty?” she mocked me with a low voice.
    I kissed her, a long, slow kiss.
    The moment I parted, I noticed her longing glance. The rest of the world disappeared as I leaned back down and she took my face in her hands.
    “Do you know why you’re perfect?” I asked, our noses rubbing.
    “Tell me.”
    “Because you’re you. All of those faults you described are just who you are. And they aren’t faults to me.”
    “Something is wrong