(Arabella et Mihail après leur combat)

Il commençait à faire vraiment chaud. Si je ne bougeais pas, je finirais par prendre un coup de soleil sur les seins. J'étais bronzée sur la majeure partie du corps, mais ma couleur naturelle se situait entre la mozzarella et le flocon de neige.
Je grognai et me forçai à me rasseoir.
Le prince m'observait. Je pouvais soit timidement me couvrir la poitrine, soit lui rendre la pareil. J'optais pour la seconde option.
D'accord. Donc les Russes étaient bien bâtis. Très bien bâtis.

- Je sais qu'on voulait attendre, dit Alessandro en regardant ma soeur essayer de piétiner son ennemi. Mais ne le faisons pas. Marions-nous.
- Maintenant ? La journée a été longue.
- Pas aujourd'hui. Mais bientôt. Tu veux bien m'épouser ?
- Je t'ai déjà dit oui.
- Est-ce que je pourrai t'accompagner à l'autel ? demanda Linus.
- Je n'ai pas encore décidé. Je suis toujours en colère contre toi, et Benjiro Heart est très gentil avec moi.
Alessandro éclata de rire.

Augustin leva les yeux au plafond et mordit dans son taco.
- C'est délicieux, comme toujours Catalina.
Konstantin me regarda.
- Est-ce que tout le monde vient chez vous pour manger ?
- Ça arrive, répondis-je.

- Est-ce que je ne mérite pas qu'on frappe à la porte ? demanda ma grand-mère.
Alessandro se retourna et frappa le battant.
- Très malin, dit Victoria Tremaine.

(Alessandro et Catalina)

- C'est différent, dit-il.
- En quoi ?
- Ça l'est, c'est tout.
- Eh bien, tu me diras quand tu auras trouvé un moyen de me l'expliquer pour que mon petit cerveau puisse comprendre.
- Ce ne sera plus un problème.
J'avais envie de le secouer.
- Je suis en colère contre toi.
- Je sais.
- Je veux que ce soit noté officiellement.
- Souhaites-tu que je prépare un document signé par deux témoins pour signifier que tu es énervée ?

- Tu sais, je n'étais pas fan de lui quand vous avez commencé à sortir ensemble, dit Leon. Il faisait des conneries et il t'avait blessée. Mais j'ai changé d'avis. Ce type travaille dur, il couvre ses arrières et il t'aime d'un amour de conte de fées.
Je haussai les sourcils.
- Le genre d'amour qu'on rêve de trouver mais qui n'existe que rarement.

- L'odeur a été assimilée.
- Merci Mathilda.
- Clairement, je suis dans "Le livre de la jungle"; dit Konstantin. J'ai rencontré les loups, l'ours et la panthère.
- Ne vous inquiétez pas, il n'y a pas de python.
Il me jeta un regard curieux.
- Je l'ai déjà rencontré.

- Je veux qu'elle meure, déclara Arabella d'un ton catégorique.
- Pas autant que moi, lui dis-je. Je voudrais lui arracher la tête ôur qu'elle ne puisse plus s'en prendre à nous. Ce serait rassurant.
Tout le monde me regarda. Apparemment, j'avais dit quelque chose de surprenant.

Mathilda s'approcha de Ragnar et déposa le félin sur ses genoux. Ragnar cligna des yeux, surpris.
- Pour le réconfort, expliqua Mathilda.
Go Mi Nam s'appliqua à ronronner consciencieusement tel un moteur hors de contrôle.
- Et moi, je n'ai pas le droit à du réconfort ? demanda Leon d'une voix triste.
Mathilda contourna la table, le serra tendrement dans ses bras et lui caressa les cheveux comme s'il était un chien.
- Tout ira bien. Tu pourras tuer des gens la prochaine fois.

- On a un autre problème, reprit Alessandro. Pour des raisons encore inconnues, l'Empire russe s'intéresse à la situation.
Je tapotai sur ma tablette, et Konstantin apparut à l'écran, dans toute la splendeur de son uniforme.
Grand-mère Frida se redressa.
- Tiens donc !
- Mère..., gronda maman.
- Je suis vieille, Pénélope. Pas morte ni aveugle, répliqua Grand-mère Frida avec un sourire. En plus, j'ai toujours aimé les hommes en uniforme.
- Pour l'amour du ciel, murmura maman.

(Eliotte et Izaak)

- Quelle conne, cette psy, crache Izaak en montant dans la voiture. J'étais à deux doigts de lui péter le nez.
- Et moi, les genoux.
J'essuie mon visage avec mes mains, le souffle encore bloqué dans la gorge.
- J'espère que je n'ai rien fait capoter... Je me suis emportée.
- Tu t'es bien rattrapée... Et puis elle s'attendait à quoi ? Elle te parle de ton père, l'air de rien, avec son ton d'androïde, son regard d'écervelée... Un balai à chiotte comme je n'en avais encore jamais vu, cette femme.

- Et ne parlons pas des contes de fées..., ajouté-je en pouffant, pour chasser ces pensées qui le donnent la nausée. C'était ridicule. Même à quatre ans je savais que c'étaient des sornettes. (Eliotte)

Il (Izaak) se met à sourire en plissant les yeux.

- Quoi ? demandé-je.
- Honnêtement ? J'aimais bien les lectures de contes de fées.
- Quoi ? Ces trucs niais ?
- Arrête... "La Belle et la Bête", avec l'héroïne qui aime au-delà de l'apparence, "La Petite Sirène" qui devient muette par amour... C'est... hum...
- Niais ? Ça fait fondre ton petit cœur ?

Il se racle la gorge.

- Non, non, mais... narrativement c'est balèze. Y a... euh... y a de belles péripéties. Et puis, la morale est noble.
- La morale est noble ? C'est une expression intéressante pour dire que c'est niais.

Je l'observe alors qu'il se reconcentre sur la route. Son visage dur, sa veste en cuir camel... Un rire me prend à la gorge.

- J'arrive pas à y croire... Izaak Meeka aime les contes de fées.
- Non mais d'un point de vue purement littéraire, on ne peut pas nier...
- Arrête, mon chaton en chocolat. Tu es démasqué.
- Mon... quoi ? Plus jamais tu ne dis ça.
- Oh ! pardon. Tu préférerais mon prince charmant ? Ou mieux : mon bien-aimé au fidèle destrier ?
- Je conclus. Je ferme la conversation. Je change de sujet.
- Assumez vos goûts et votre cœur d'artichaut, damoiseau.

Il me lance un regard noir, prêt à répliquer, mais nous arrivons déjà au cinéma, avec quelques minutes de retard.

Spoiler(cliquez pour révéler)

I buried my face in Ezra's chest, shaking with sobs. I'd almost died. Almost died. So close to the end. To nothingness To no longer being a person, only a memory in the hearts of those left behind.

I dragged my head up. Ezra gazed down at me as my hand slid up his chest, along his neck, and curled into his hair.

Before I could pull his head down, he was kissing me.

I clamped my mouth against his, kissing him back with equal ferocity. All my fear and helplessness fled as fire ignited in my blood. My arms were around his neck, both hands fisted in his hair. His arms held me against him, fierce but gentle.

Tilting my head, I opened my mouth for him and his tongue found mine. Fatigue forgotten, I pressed into him. My flimsy towel caught between us, the fluffy cotton rubbing against my bare skin as it slid down. His breath rushing out, he grabbed the back of the towel, the muscles in his arms bunching as he held it in place.

"Tori," he rasped. "You should be in bed."

"Only if you get in with me."

He stifled a groan. I arched into him, cold air finding my skin as one edge of my towel dropped, exposing my naked side.

Catching the towel's end, he swept it back around me-then scooped me off my feet. He strode out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. The sight of medical equipment tucked in the corner only slightly cooled my libido.

He set me on the bed, then flipped the blankets over me and my askew towel. Marching back into the bathroom, he returned with another towel and dropped it over my wet hair.

"Dry off," he told me. "Then get some sleep."

I pushed the towel up so I could see him. "I'm not tired."

"You looked ready to fall over a moment ago."

"Well, now I'm horizontal, so it's all good."

He choked on a laugh.

Pushing the towel off my head, I reached for him. He leaned down and our mouths met again. Soft, gentle, deep. A fire stoked by more than lust.

Slow, delicious heat unfurled in my center. My fingers curled around his wrist. Without breaking our kiss, I drew his hand downward. His warm fingers slid over my neck, trailing through droplets of cold water from the bath. Along my shoulder, tracing my collarbone.

I guided his hand farther down. Under the blanket. Pushing the towel aside.

He crushed his mouth against mine, breath rushing through his nose. I arched up into his palm-then his other hand was under the covers too. Sliding over my bare skin, tracing my curves. The bed dipped as he put his knee on the mattress.

I got my fingers back into his hair, holding his mouth to mine, not letting him pull away even for an instant. I would allow my own hands to wander later. Right now, I wanted him touching me. I wanted his hands on my body, exploring and teasing. Heat built in me, and the room spun as I sucked in air.

Uh, actually ... the room was really spinning.

He pulled back, took one look at me, and muttered a curse under his breath. "I knew you should be sleeping."

I caught his wrists as he withdrew his hands. "Nuh-uh. I'm good. Just needed a breather."

"Nice try." He tugged his arms free, then pulled the blanket up to my chin. "I should've been on my guard against your seductress ways."

"Excuse me?"

"Luring me into your hospital bed." He shook his head, somber deadpan in full force. "Just think how I'd feel if you passed out while I was kissing you."

"To be frank, Ezra ..." I arched an eyebrow. "I was luring you in for a lot more than mere kissing."

"Duplicitous," he intoned.

I laughed, and his grin flashed, its appearance stealing the air from my lungs.

My phone, sitting on the bathroom counter, chimed I ignored it, steaming myself like a lobster and hoping the he would steady my nerves.

It chimed twice more, and when I still didn't reply m whoever wanted my attention, it began to ring. Swearing I pushed the plastic curtain open, letting a rush of cold air m the steamy innards of the shower. I grabbed my phone fumbled for the answer button with my wet thumb, then hit speaker.

"This better be good!" I barked at the unlucky caller.

"Am I interrupting something?" Ezra replied, the running water muffling his smooth voice.

My irritation vanished. "Just in the shower."

"Oh. Hmm."

I waited, allowing him all the time he wanted to think about me in the shower.

"Earth to Ezra," Aaron said sarcastically. "You were calling to tell Tori how she needs to get over here, remember?"

My phone wasn't the only one on speaker, it seemed.

Almost exactly four months ago, I'd thrust my hand across the silver line of the summoning circle, piercing the barrier that had separated Zylas and me from the moment we'd met. In the frigid darkness within the circle, he'd held me against his chest, squeezing my sliced arm to slow the bleeding, and asked what I wanted from him.

Protect me, I'd begged.

That day, his eyes had been dark with exhaustion, his life hanging by a thread.

Today, they glowed with power. His fingers tightened over mine, pressing the infernus into my palm. The hard edges bit into my skin, but I squeezed it even tighter, staring up at him.

He stared back. Unblinking. Looking deep inside me in a way no one else could.

That day, we'd made our desperate promises to each other, driven to survive, and begun a partnership that had tested us both. Changed us both. Pushed us apart and brought us closer together. Then we'd lost that bond... only to discover an even stronger one that required no magic.

"Zylas," I whispered.

His gaze drifted over my face. He waited silently.

"Last time you asked for my soul."

Spoiler(cliquez pour révéler)

He'd thought it was his only way to escape the human world, unaware that contract magic, and therefore the banishment clause, didn't work on Twelfth House demons. Just as Myrrine's death hadn't freed her demon from Earth, my death couldn't save Zylas.

I wrapped my other hand around his as he held the infernus. "This time, I promise you my heart. We won't be together, but I'll always think of you. I'll never forget you. You'll be in my heart forever."

His head slowly tilted, shadows dimming the glow of his eyes. He lifted his hand and curled it over mine, both our hands wrapped around the infernus.

"You are amavrah and vayanin. I will think of you every time I step into the sun."

A tremor ran through me. He pulled, drawing me closer until our hands were trapped between our bodies.

"Enpedera vish na."

His husky voice whispered across me and I closed my eyes.

"Enpedera vish na," I breathed.

I entered my room, closed the door, and turned to face the bed. Zylas sat on it, back against the headboard, a book across his lap.

My heart ached as I crawled onto the bed and sat beside him. The glossy page showing the mountain in Oregon stared back at me, the corner folded down.

I pressed against his side, his smoky scent filling my nose. and rested my head on his shoulder. His warmth soaked into me, his body solid against mine. The thought that in a few hours he would be gone... it didn't compute. It didn't make sense. How could I lose this?

How could I lose him?

"I wish we could've traveled together," I whispered, "and seen all the places in your book, even if it took a lifetime."

Especially if it took a lifetime.

"Hnn." His head turned and I looked up. Our foreheads touched. "Would you have spent your lifetime with me, amavrah?"

His question sank through me, embedding itself in my crumbling heart. "Yes."

"Even though I am not hh'ainun and could not do all the hh'ainun things?"

Tears stung my eyes. "Yes."

"Even though it is more dangerous for you to be a contractor?"

"That doesn't matter." I touched his cheek, then slid my hand up into his hair and pressed my fingertips to his small horns. "Would you have spent my lifetime with me, even though I'm not a payashe and you don't belong in my world?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I just talked to you about things I have never told anyone."

"That-that doesn't mean I have to tell you everything now."

He bared his teeth angrily. I recoiled, my sweater sleeve pulling taut between us. He yanked me back. I wrenched away. and the sound of a seam tearing shocked me.

Panic fired through my veins. "Let me go!"

He released my sleeve so suddenly I staggered. His dark eyes burned like ice as he inhaled through his nose.

"Fear," he snapped. "Fear, again. Why are you afraid?" I stumbled back another step.

"I have not hurt you. I have never hurt you." His tail lashed, the barbs catching the box spring and ripping through the fabric. "How do I make you not fear me? What am I doing wrong?"

I jolted, my breath catching. My back hit the wall.

"I am the one with fear!" Snarling frustration roughened his words. "You break so easily. I am always afraid you will be hurt. I watch you and protect you and you still get hurt and I try and it isn't enough! Why am I this afraid for a payilas who thinks I will hurt her?"

With my back pressed to the wall, I stared at him with my lungs locked. Emotions boiled through me, a tangled mess I couldn't begin to sort through. All I knew was that my heart was hammering and my head was spinning and he was telling me how afraid he was that I would get hurt.

Amalia about Zylas : "There you go again, Robin. He's not a guardian angel who happens to have demon horns."

She huffed. "Okay. Okay, you're right. It's not fair of me to keep painting him with demon stereotypes."

A painful weight in my chest lightened.

"But," she added forcefully, "that doesn't change the fact he's still a demon, and you don't want his demon dick anywhere near you."

I recoiled with a shocked squeak, my face instantly on fire.

"Trust me, Robin," she said with a sage nod. "Virgins see everything with innocent eyes, but it's not all sweetness and roses, especially when—”

"I'm not a virgin."

The words echoed through the bus shelter. Realizing what I'd just blurted, I clapped a hand to my mouth.

Amalia stared for a second, then snorted. "Please. You're the most virginy virgin I've ever seen. I always know when your books get steamy because you blush while you're reading."

"I'm not!" I clenched my teeth, praying that Zylas wasn't picking up on any of this. "I met a guy in my History 202 class and we dated for a semester." My cheeks burned hotter. "We slept together a few times."

"A few," she repeated dubiously. "Was it good?"

"Um... I guess so?"

"That means it wasn't good," she said dryly. "Why'd you stop seeing him?"

"Well, he was a philosophy major."

"Ah. Say no more." She squinted at my beet-red face. "Why are you so prudish, then?"

"I'm not prudish! I'm just "Anyway, I know what s-sex is, okay? You don't need to lecture me." just shy." I folded my arms.

She snickered at my inability to say "sex" without stammering. "Did you try anything besides missionary with your boyfriend?"

"We are not having this conversation."

"Oh, come on. I'm curious. Did he go down on you?"

Losing all sense of dignity, I pressed my hands over my ears.

"Ever had an orgasm?" she asked loudly, grinning at my squirming embarrassment.

I pushed harder on my ears, attempting to block out reality. If she asked one more inappropriate question, I would-

"Am I interrupting?"

Amalia and I whirled around. Ezra stood just outside the bus shelter, a black toque hiding his curly hair. My level of mortification skyrocketed, and I almost cowered behind my taller cousin.

Justin considered that as we moved to the next row of cars. "Ezra is a demon mage, isn't he?"

I missed a step and almost fell. "What? You-how did you-"

"I guessed."

Damn it. My brother was too swift on the uptake.

"The cult turned him into a demon mage when he was fourteen," I explained tersely. "If anyone finds out, he'll be executed. I'm trying to find a way to get the demon out of him."

"You're in love with a man who has a demon inside him?"

I scowled. "Butt out, Justin."

Tabitha glared arctic laser-beams at Zak, while Girard, sitting across from the druid, seemed cautiously curious.

"So," he said, "you're the one who stole our bartender for two weeks, eh?"

I propped my chin on my palm. "It was a lovely vacation. I enjoyed some hard manual labor, a battle with darkfae, and a dragon airshow. Oh, and he tricked me into thinking I'd die if I talked about him."

Girard pressed his lips together at his new understanding of why I hadn't revealed where I'd been or how I'd escaped.

"Don't forget the shower," Zak told me.

"Huh?"

"Showering together," he clarified. "Sleeping together. Waking up in bed together. It was so romantic."

My jaw hit the tabletop. Aaron's face was stamped with disbelieving horror and Ezra's had gone completely blank. Kai's suspicious gaze darted between me and the druid.

"What will you do, drädah, when you have the grimoire?"

"What do you mean?" I asked weakly, unable to look away from his probing stare. Our faces were much, much too close "I'll translate it and see if it has answers about how to send you home."

"What if it doesn't?"

"I'll keep searching until I find a way."

He studied me, his dark eyes prying deep. "If I die, you will not have to do that."

My mouth fell open in disbelief. "If-"

"You said that, before me, you did not need protection. If die, you will not be in danger. You will not need me. If I die. you will be free of these burdens."

"I don't-"

"You want me to die." His wet hand closed over my mouth. silencing my immediate protest. "I thought this, but then I was bitten and could not move. You could have run away. You could have left me."

I tugged on his wrist, forcing his hand off my mouth. "I would never have left you. You didn't leave me when I was bitten."

"I promised to protect you. You made no promise. You-"

"Then I'll promise right I'm not strong like you and I know it isn't worth much, but..." I stared hard into his eyes. Zylas, I promise to protect you however I can, no matter what, until you return to your world."

He lowered his hand. "No, drädah, you cannot make that promise." "Why not?" I asked fiercely.

"I cannot protect you if you are protecting me." He leaned in, bringing our faces closer. "Be smarter, dradah. Say this instead: 'Zylas, I promise to be your ally.""

"Your ally?" I repeated, bemused.

"An ally helps and does not harm, but an ally is not..." He paused, searching for the right word. "An ally does not do stupid things die."

A laugh bubbled in my throat. "So an ally isn't self- sacrificing, is what you mean. Okay, fine. Zylas, I promise to be your ally."

He blinked slowly. "Hnn."

"What?"

"I have never had an ally." He shrugged one shoulder. "No demon will ally with my House."

"What about the demons in your House?"

"Guh. They have sworn to me, but they are useless. More useless than you."

"Thanks," I said dryly.

"Robin, which do you think I should-" She broke off at the sight of me trapped in Zylas's arms. "Oh my god, seriously?"

My face burned.

Amalia tossed her dresses toward her bedroom, stomped over to the sofa, and mashed her hand over Zylas's face. Shoving him backward, she hauled me off his lap with her other hand. I stumbled away, blinking dumbly.

"You have an infernus, remember?" she barked at me. "Use it once in a while! And you." Hands on her hips, she glared at Zylas. "You're an obnoxious pig! Don't make that face. If you knew what a pig was, you wouldn't think it's funny!"

Choking on a laugh, I scooped up the grimoire and hurried

into my room, Amalia's angry lecture carrying after me.

"Holding Robin down is just gross, and you need to get it through your thick horned skull that civilized men don't-" A pause. "I didn't say you were a human, but you can do better than behaving like a beast!"

I swung my door shut before she heard stifled giggles. my Shaking my head, I stopped at my closet, figuring I might as well pick out my outfit for the party. I was looking forward to seeing Zora again-and she would have a million questions about what had happened with Claude and the sorcerers.

"Oh yeah?" Amalia shouted. "Just try me! I'll steal pieces from your puzzle and burn them!"

Snorting with laughter, I almost dropped the grimoire.

"Do you have to keep insulting me, Zylas?"

"I am not insulting you."

"Maybe you don't think calling me clumsy is an insult, but-"

"I did not call you clumsy."

"You keep calling me vayanin."

"I told you, it is not an insult."

"Then what does it mean?"

He grinned, amusement brightening his crimson eyes. I bristled self-consciously.

"It might not be an insult, but you're still making fun of me."

"I am not making fun."

Despite his claim, I could see the laughter he was holding back, and hurt slashed me. Maybe he wasn't being mean- spirited, but if he thought it was funny, it couldn't be anything pleasant. Why would he use everyone else's name, but not mine?

Huffing to hide my distress, I shoved off the sofa and took a stomping step away.

A hard tug on my sweater. I fell backward, landing on his Before I could think of leaping off him, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. lap. powerful

"Vayanin is not an insult," he murmured, his warm breath teasing my ear. "Your language does not have this word. You do not know it."

"Then why do you keep calling me it?"

"It is a good word for you."

I gritted my teeth, too aware of all the places our bodies were touching. "Explain it to me, then."

"Hnn... that is not fun." He sighed. "Vayanin means..." For a moment, he was quiet. Gathering his thoughts or deciding whether to speak at all?

"Night is a time of danger." All amusement left his voice, his tone low and husky. "It is the time when we hunt. When we are hunted. It is dark and cold, with no way to recover vish.

All night, we watch the horizon." I held still in his arms, my breath snared in my lungs as I listened.

"When the first light reaches the land, and the sky turns to yellow, and the warmth comes, we are safe for another day. The moment when the sun touches you after the cold night— that is vayanin."

I am losing myself, sister.

Some days, I think I have never been so whole, so alive. Never have I felt this safe. Never have I felt this protected. Never have I felt such freedom from fear.

My Vh'alyir ruthless. He is power and cunning and strength, and he commits it all to our safety. But he is so much more.

The questions he asks me, sister! Curious as a child, he wants to know everything. The conversations we have, about our world and his, fuel my wit and grip my imagination, but sympathy wells in my bosom as well. The violence he has known, so great the terrors of my life seem mild to him, makes me ache.

Last night he told me of the ferocious battles between demon males. Rivals fight to the death, all for the honor of passing on their seed-of breeding and raising warrior sons to continue the battle.

I asked him, Does it not seem pointless?

He looked at me with sadness, with a resigned heart, and asked, what else is there?

And sister, this is where I wonder if my mind slips, for the urge to comfort him was so strong. I know he is powerful, yet he is no beast. His conformation is well matched with a human man, his countenance is fair, and his physique...here I sigh, for his physique is magnificent.

Am I mad to long to touch him?

Am I mad to see beauty in this demon?

Am I mad to want more?

Perhaps where my madness truly lies is in this urge to put my unseemly yearnings to the page. Do not judge me harshly, sister, for I dare not share this confusion even with you. I can only pray that sense returns to me before I fall any deeper.

- Myrrine Athanas

De la poussière dorée scintilla dans l'air entre nous. Je relevai vivement la tête. La boule de gui pendait au plafond et se balançait d'un air décidé en nous faisant pleuvoir des paillettes dessus. En la voyant, mon cœur submergé de stress sortit le drapeau blanc et arrêta carrément de battre..

La pixie-gui, remarqua Ezra.

-Cette petite saleté n'a pas arrêté de me suivre de toute la soirée. C'est quoi ton problème, espèce de zinzin feuillu?

Sa seule réponse fut une nouvelle douche de paillettes. Je continuai à fixer les feuilles, j'avais trop peur de baisser les yeux et de voir le visage d'Ezra. Ma bouche était sèche et je dus me racler la gorge pour parler:

- Aaron a dit que ça portait malheur de l'ignorer.
- En effet.

Une longue pause s'ensuivit

- Ça serait bête de risquer ta vie amoureuse.
- Euh...

Respire, Tori.

- Est-ce qu'on devrait...
-Tu veux?

Oui. Mais je ne pouvais pas le dire. Ça faisait des semaines que je luttais contre mon attirance pour lui. Notre amitié était trop importante pour que je la risque ainsi.

Dans l'attente de ma réponse, il ne bougea pas - mais pour la deuxième fois en deux minutes, son regard tomba sur ma bouche. Un signe si subtil... je me retrouvais soudain à me demander s'il y avait eu d'autres signes que j'avais manqués au cours des dernières semaines, des derniers mois.

De la poussière dorée s'accrochait à ses cheveux et brillait sur ses joues. Une envie irrépressible monta en moi comme la marée, et je ne pus m'empêcher de me rapprocher ni empêcher ma main de se lever, ou mes doigts de venir effleurer sa mâchoire sculpturale. Je refermai ma main derrière sa nuque.

Une pression infime, la plus douce possible. Il avança en réponse à mon geste et franchit la distance entre nous jusqu'à ce que nos visages ne soient plus séparés que d'un souffle.

Un soupir silencieux émergea de mes poumons et je me forçai à croiser son regard. Ses yeux vairons cherchèrent les miens, son visage aussi impassible qu'il savait l'être.

La respiration bloquée, je levai la tête vers lui.
Ses lèvres, douces et prudentes, effleurèrent les miennes. De la lave liquide se répandit en moi, mais son baiser était hésitant, une exploration incertaine. Sans réfléchir, je me dressai sur la pointe des pieds et écrasai ma bouche contre la sienne pour demander - exiger davantage.

L'espace d'un instant, pendant lequel mon cœur s'arrêta, il hésita. La peur me percuta : jetais allée trop loin, j'en avais trop révélé, et il allait me repousser.

Sa bouche fusionna avec la mienne et ses doigts chauds touchèrent mes coudes, ses mains se refermèrent sur mes bras pour m'attirer plus près. Nos lèvres se séparèrent et se trouvèrent de nouveau. Puis ses bras m'entourèrent, jusqu'à ce que nous soyons tellement collés que je n'arrivais plus à respirer.

Au plus profond de moi, quelque chose craqua. Un séisme, mes fondations qui s'effondraient.

Sa main se posa derrière ma nuque pour m'attirer encore plus contre sa bouche - et chaque instant secret de désir réprimé explosa en moi. J'entremêlai mes doigts dans ses cheveux - et toutes les pensées coupables que j'avais refoulées remontèrent soudain à la surface. Collés l'un à l'autre, nos souffles mêlés, nos lèvres jointes, les mensonges que je m'étais racontés s'évaporèrent sous l'effet de la chaleur qui courait dans mes veines.

Alors que je m'effondrais de l'intérieur, il m'écrasa contre lui. La timidité et l'incertitude oubliées, il m'embrassa avec une urgence brûlante. J'entrouvris les lèvres et il accepta mon invitation. La caresse sensuelle de sa langue contre la mienne me perça en mon centre, une lame d'excitation fulgurante - et le barrage de mon déni éclata en mille morceaux que je ne pourrais jamais recoller. Mes viscères abandonnèrent mon corps, me laissant vide. Mon sang bouillait. Ma tête tournait. Ma poitrine se soulevait à toute allure. Il m'en fallait davantage.

Nos bouches ouvertes glissaient l'une contre l'autre. Il agrippa l'arrière de mon crane pour maintenir mes lèvres contre les siennes. Son autre main était brûlante contre la peau nue de mon dos, et sa paume remonta pour que ses doigts viennent effleurer mes épaules. Le contact de nos bouches ne se rompit pas, il ne pouvait se rompre.

J'avais besoin de ce baiser affamé. De ses mains qui m'agrippaient. De son corps collé au mien, de son torse qui se soulevait contre moi, de ses bras qui me serraient de plus en plus fort, comme s'il comptait ne jamais me lâcher.

Sauf qu'il me lâcha.

Alors que je partais de plus en plus loin dans cette spirale, nos lèvres se détachèrent. Ses mains me lâchèrent. Il recula, s'arrachant à ma prise. La respiration hachée, les cheveux emmêlés par mes doigts, il fit un autre pas en arrière, créant encore plus d'espace entre nous.

Et puis, avant que je ne puisse parler, avant que je ne puisse abaisser mes mains tendues vers moi, il se détourna. En deux longues enjambées, il disparut - sans un mot, sans un son.

Juste... parti.

Je fixai le vide devant moi. Mes bras retombèrent le long de mes flancs et je vacillai, instable, tout mon monde sorti de son axe. Il m'avait embrassée comme on ne m'avait jamais embrassée.

Puis, il s'était enfui.

Un bruissement. Le gui se souleva du plafond, une paire d'ailes translucides dépassant de la boule de feuillage. Le petit visage en forme de cœur de la pixie apparut entre les feuilles pour me fixer, ses traits minuscules formant une expression interrogatrice.

Je m'enveloppai de mes bras glaces, la gorge serrée, les yeux brûlants.

La pixie émit un petit pépiement d'oiseau, comme pour demander « Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé ?
- Je ne sais pas, murmurai-je. Je ne sais pas.