Gravebriar

by Casey L. Bond

“I don’t give a damn about being considered heroic, especially by anyone in Cauldron. And what kind of hero would one be if he slaughtered an innocent to attain the glory?” “Most would say it doesn’t matter how you get to the finish line as long as you cross it before everyone else,” I argued, palms flat on the sticky table. “Good thing I’m not like most people, then. I do care. And I’ve been completely honest with you from the moment I met you in the solarium. I don’t mean you any harm.” He gently took hold of my hand and brushed his thumb over the back of it. “How can I prove it?” “You can start by not skewering me. And know that if you do, I’ll have plenty of time to activate the poison in your blood and drag you into the afterlife with me.” I pulled my hand away and tucked it beneath the table, feeling the warmth from his thumb leaching away. “I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

“He looked forward to your visit, like a man weary of the night awaits the dawn.”

Forge… who hunts us?” I asked quietly as we kept to a sandy section of shore that was empty save for us and the gulls who caught the wind overhead. The sun glistened over the sand as if it was made of diamonds, the glimmering beams striking the sea and making it look like it was filled with churning shards of glass. Rolling waves pushed themselves ashore only to slip back into the water.

“There are many who don’t understand that everyone possesses a modicum of magic, even if it’s been diluted over generations. That many farmers have the touch of Gravebriar blood that allows them to cultivate beautiful crops, or that the blacksmith hammering in the distance, beating steel into a sword is part Silverthorn, or the sailors part Elementine or Tempest.

He let out a sharp exhalation. His hands settled on either side of my face. His metal eyes sliced into mine. The knot in his throat dipped. “Kiss me?” he rasped. This was not just acting. It wasn’t a playful means of ridding ourselves of awkwardness. This was something else entirely and he and I both knew it. We were standing atop a boulder, staring at a deep pool. He wanted to jump in, but also wanted me to take his hand and jump with him. He wanted me to trust him. Trusting him with my life was one thing. The poison singing through his blood was a safety net. Trusting him with my heart took far more courage. She walked a rope with nothing beneath her, and if she fell… she would shatter. If I gave my heart to him, shattered or not, he would own every piece. I clasped his forearms. Pushing up onto my tippy toes, I pressed my lips to his and let them peel away. Yes, my lips said without a word. A rumble of a growl resonated in his chest. He wrapped his arms around my lower back and lifted my feet off the ground. They swished through the water as he walked us deeper.

Only a fool thinks himself invincible.

“Be careful in whom you place your trust. Sometimes betrayal cuts to the bone. Other times it cleaves the bone in two.”

Forge didn’t look away from me to watch them. His eyes combed over my face and slid down my throat. Lower. He held me away from him a little, his gaze sliding down my legs to the tips of my toes, which curled in the pointed tips of my heels at his perusal. Forge let out an agonizing, “Damn, Gravebriar.” “What’s the matter?” I asked. “I want to kiss you, but your crimson lips would smear and Arum wants us inside.” I smirked. “That is a conundrum.” “Quite a quandary,” he said, his lips not turning upward into their usual confident grin. “A dilemma, to be sure,” I teased, smiling. “You are being cruel, Lilith,” he emphasized. Somehow, I knew that inwardly, he’d used my true name. Could feel his husky voice curl around each syllable. “If you truly want to kiss me, sir, I’m sure you won’t be deterred. My crimson lips aren’t the only kissable place I possess.”

“What do you want?” His brows slanted. “I thought I knew. Now, I’m not so sure.” “What changed?” He laughed, but it wasn’t carefree. It was rough and full of confusion. I felt it to my marrow, because I felt the same. “My life changed the moment you walked into the solarium, Castor.”

“Trust me… I’ve got you. I already know you by heart.”

Arum spoke the truth, and the truth, once uncloaked, could never be hidden again.

“I like you, Gravebriar,” Forge said out of nowhere. I smiled and swallowed a mouthful of cinnamon bread. “I like you, too, Silverthorn.” He locked eyes with me. “What if I told you that I more than liked you? What if I said I care about you? That I worry for you and not just myself anymore. What if I told you I have no idea how you’ve done it in just a matter of days, but you’re all I can think about?” “What if I replied that I was glad I occupy your thoughts, and that I have no plan to release my hold on them?” My tone was haughty, playful, though a swarm of bees buzzed happily through my stomach at his admission. The corner of his lips lifted. “What if I countered your reply by saying I’m not sure how to go about this? My entire life has been a falsehood.” I shrugged a shoulder. “What if I tell you mine has been, too? So, maybe the answer is to navigate the uncharted waters together.” “What if the waters are dangerous?” He scooted closer, swiping a crumb from my lip. His hand lingered, settling on my jaw. I leaned in, melting into his touch, then ran my fingers over the back of his hand and brought his palm to my lips, placing a slow kiss in its middle. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he breathed out, “Damn, Gravebriar.” Grinning, I reminded, “You keep saying that.” Instead of answering, Forge captured my lips with his. With his every kiss. Every small touch. Every gesture that showed me he wasn’t afraid… he captured a piece o...

Forge floated on the waves until a larger one tumbled him. He burst from the water, coughing. I tried not to giggle and failed miserably. “I have poison in my blood and almost got taken out by something as insignificant as a wave. One of millions of others just like it. That’s not even a dignified way to die!” he sputtered. “Does it matter if one dies a dignified death? The end result is the same,” I laughed. “It absolutely matters. Or it does to me,” he answered seriously. “If I’m to die young, I want it to be for a great cause.”

The sun had set, and again, we stood in the twilight wanting more. More time. More touch. More of us, and less of the world and all its demands. “Why does it feel like we’re stuck in an hourglass with sand draining away beneath our feet and time tugging us toward the bottom?” “Because there will never be enough time for us to spend together,” he said softly into my ear, tickling the hair on my neck. I tilted my head to meet his eyes and inched toward him, slowly… “An eternity wouldn’t be enough.”

“You promised that we would leave when we got in too deep. Well, I’m telling you we’re both drowning, Gravebriar. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it out of Westbrook alive.”

“I’m not safe anywhere, Arum. Safety is a figment of the imagination; a pretty illusion we create to comfort ourselves. As I live and breathe, I’m never truly safe. No one is.”

“Hatred fuels many a fire, and seeks to consume the one who set it.

“You,” the Silverthorn Power growled, starting toward me. Forge stepped in front of me protectively. “Touch her and you’ll die by my hand. I swear I’ll cut you down right here – if she doesn’t kill you first.”

“You need something to remind you of the day you faced a lion and reduced him into a house cat.”

“If you’re the briar, I wish to be the stem strong enough to support you, to see you grow.” If my heart had arms, she would have reached out for him. The moment he stepped into the forest and told me he believed I was innocent, she was his. Every moment after just solidified it.

He smiled, possessively locking one hand on my side, bent so that he could whisper in my ear. “Damn, Gravebriar.” I grinned. “Silverthorn. You look nice.” His brow quirked. “Nice?” I nodded, suppressing a smile. “It’s a compliment.” “You look delectable,” he said, the rasp to his tone sliding over my skin. Swallowing thickly, I brought my lips just shy of his, hooking an arm around his neck. “Don’t mess up my lip paint,” I warned. He plastered himself to me, his stomach shaking with laughter that held a warning. “Someone wise once told me crimson lips aren’t the only kissable place a woman possesses.” His lips found my jaw, the side of my neck, my… Bog.

The trip to Westbrook took mere seconds with his help.” “That would’ve been nice,” I laughed. “Yes, but then you wouldn’t have been able to ogle me from behind.” He had a point there.

“Number one, I have every right to be jealous anytime I don’t have your full and complete attention. If I’d danced with ticket booth girl for that long, you’d have clawed her face off. Number two, those were the three longest songs, and therefore slow dances, in the history of music. Even longer than all the dances you had with Arbor at the last revel. I thought they might never end.”

“There will never be a song long enough for me to dance with you to. There will never be a day, year, or lifetime long enough to spend with you, Castor Gravebriar. When you love someone…” His eyes flicked to mine as he searched for more words. But they weren’t necessary. My heart raced toward him. The beetles in my stomach took flight. “I’m glad you feel that way. I made a promise to you, Forge Silverthorn, and I intend to keep it.” “What’s that?” he grinned. “You and me against the world. I love you, too, and I promise I’m with you, Forge.” “And, I’m with you, Princess.” I narrowed my eyes and kissed him silly for the use of that pet name, until the only thing he could utter was, “Damn, Gravebriar.” He kissed me again, then his eyes glittered and I knew I was in trouble… “I’m going to use that pet name much more often.”