Seraphina kissed me again before I had time to decide whether pointing out the hypocrisy would be worth getting punched.
The second kiss was nothing like the first. There was no startled hesitation behind it, no brief moment where she seemed surprised by her own decision.
Her fist remained twisted into the front of my shirt as she pulled me closer, her lips pressing against mine with enough frustrated determination that I immediately abandoned whatever clever comment had been forming inside my head.
’This woman threatened to stab me less than a day ago.’
Somehow, that only made the situation more ridiculous.
I finally stopped standing there like an idiot and slid my hands around her waist. Seraphina stiffened for half a second at the contact, but instead of retreating, she moved closer until our breasts pressed against each other.
That turned out to be considerably more distracting than I’d anticipated.
The fitted shirt Lyra had given her did absolutely nothing to disguise the generous curves I’d spent the entire morning attempting unsuccessfully not to stare at.
Her body pressed against mine as she kissed me, warm and increasingly tense beneath my hands, while her freshly washed blonde hair brushed across my cheek.
Seraphina broke away first.
Her breathing had become noticeably faster, and the pristine future Saintess I’d written years ago was nowhere to be found.
Her blonde hair had fallen messily across her flushed face, her lips were parted as she caught her breath, and the irritation burning in her blue eyes did absolutely nothing to diminish how fucking beautiful she looked.
I smiled.
Seraphina’s expression immediately darkened. "Don’t."
"I didn’t say anything."
"Your face said enough."
"My face is innocent."
"Nothing about you is innocent."
"That’s probably fair."
Seraphina released my shirt and stepped backward as though creating physical distance might somehow undo the last thirty seconds. She dragged one hand through her hair, looked anywhere except directly at me, and finally squared her shoulders.
"That was a mistake."
I blinked. "Okay."
Her eyes snapped toward mine.
I waited for her reaction. Apparently that wasn’t the response she’d expected.
Seraphina took another step back, then stopped. "That’s all you’re going to say?"
"You just told me it was a mistake."
"It was."
"Then I’m respecting your mistake."
Her jaw tightened.
I couldn’t help myself. "Very mature of me, actually."
"Don’t ruin it."
"I was doing so well."
Seraphina stared at me for several seconds, irritation gradually replacing the embarrassment on her face. She looked toward the exit, then toward me, then back toward the exit as though she was conducting an internal argument that had somehow become my problem.
I stayed exactly where I was.
That seemed to annoy her even more.
"You’re infuriating," she muttered.
"I’ve been told."
"I don’t understand you."
"Neither do I. I’ve only been me for about a day."
Her brow furrowed at that, probably remembering all the other strange comments I’d made about this body being new, but before she could question it, I saw her attention drift toward my mouth again.
This time she realized what she’d done almost immediately.
I raised an eyebrow, and Seraphina cursed under her breath.
Then she marched back across the training chamber, grabbed my shirt with both hands, and kissed me again.
’Apparently respecting her mistake was the correct strategy.’
I barely had time to finish the thought before my back met the stone wall.
Seraphina had shoved me into it.
Not particularly hard, but with enough confidence that I stared at her when she pulled back half an inch. Her face was still bright red, yet something new had appeared beneath the embarrassment.
Satisfaction.
"Oh," I murmured.
Her eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You’re smiling again."
"I’m beginning to think you like me better when I’m quiet."
"I like you best when you aren’t speaking."
"I can think of several ways you could accomplish that."
Seraphina’s expression promised violence.
Then she kissed me specifically to shut me up.
I laughed against her lips before returning the kiss, and whatever remaining caution had existed between us started disappearing rapidly.
My hands found her waist again, but this time I let them travel farther before settling against her hips. Seraphina responded by gripping my shoulders and pressing closer. The sudden shift made my tail—which had apparently decided it wanted to participate—curl around the outside of her thigh.
Seraphina froze and so did I.
We both looked down at my tail. It had wrapped itself loosely around her leg.
’Traitor.’
Seraphina slowly looked back at me.
I attempted dignity. "It does that."
"On its own?"
"Seems so."
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion before one hand left my shoulder and cautiously reached toward it.
I immediately had a bad feeling.
"Seraphina."
"What?"
"Don’t do it."
That was evidently the wrong thing to say.
Her fingers closed gently around the tail, and every muscle in my body tightened.
A sharp shiver ran straight up my spine, and whatever expression crossed my face must have been catastrophic because Seraphina went completely still.
Then her lips slowly curved upward.
"Oh." That single syllable contained entirely too much discovery.
I stared at her. "Don’t make that face."
"What face?"
"That one."
Seraphina’s fingers shifted slightly against the tail.
Another involuntary shiver betrayed me.
Her smile grew.
’Oh, fuck.’
"You’ve spent the entire day making fun of me," she said softly.
"I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"You counted how many times I looked at you."
"For scientific purposes."
"You asked whether my posture had breasts."
"An important anatomical question."
Her fingers moved again, and my argument immediately became much harder to maintain.
Seraphina watched my reaction with growing fascination, and for the first time since I’d met her, the future Fallen Saintess looked genuinely delighted to possess the advantage.
"Your tail is sensitive."
"No."
Her eyebrows rose.
"It isn’t."
She gave it the slightest experimental squeeze.
I sucked in a breath before I could stop myself.
Seraphina’s smile became downright dangerous. "Extremely sensitive."
"You’re enjoying this far too much."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about."
She threw my own words back at me with such perfect timing that I almost felt proud.
Almost.
"Give that back."
"It’s attached to you."
"You know what I meant."
"Do I?"
"You’re becoming unbearable."
Seraphina leaned closer until her lips hovered near mine. "I’ve had an excellent teacher."
Then she released my tail and kissed me again.
I was beginning to understand why people made catastrophically bad decisions around attractive women.
My hands tightened around Seraphina’s hips as the kiss deepened, and she responded by hooking one arm around my shoulders.
Whatever careful boundary we’d been maintaining was rapidly becoming theoretical, especially when she pressed herself against me hard enough that I could feel the frantic rise and fall of her breathing.
Her fingers gripped my shirt once more, and the fabric tightened under the tension.
A tear occurred, and we both stopped to look down.
I examined the garment; A significant rip had emerged near the collar.
I then directed my attention toward Seraphina.
She looked at the damaged shirt, then back at me.
"You ripped my clothes."
"It was an accident."
"We have thirteen silver."
Her lips twitched.
"Do you have any idea how poor I am?"
That finally did it.
Seraphina laughed.
Not the small almost-smile she’d allowed earlier. An actual laugh escaped her before she could suppress it, bright and startled and so completely different from every sound I’d heard her make since finding her in that cell that I forgot about the shirt entirely.
She immediately tried to compose herself. But it was too late.
I stared deeply into her icy blue eyes.
Seraphina’s amusement disappeared beneath renewed embarrassment. "Don’t."
"You laughed."
"I did not."
"You absolutely fucking laughed."
"I hate you."
"There she is."
Seraphina shoved my shoulder, although there was almost no force behind it. I caught her wrist automatically, and the humor between us gradually faded when neither of us moved away.
For several seconds, we simply stood there.
She was close enough that I could see the subtle uncertainty returning to her eyes. I released her wrist.
"You sure?"
Seraphina didn’t pretend to understand.
Her gaze searched my face, and some of the heat between us settled into something quieter. Months imprisoned beneath this dungeon, fifteen years serving a Church that had eventually mutilated her mana channels, and barely a day spent knowing the demon woman standing in front of her probably gave her more than enough reasons to walk away.
So I waited, and Seraphina swallowed.
"Yes."
No hesitation followed it.
Just that one word.
Then she leaned forward and kissed me again.
This one felt different.
There was still hunger behind it, but less anger. Her hands slid around my neck instead of clutching my clothing like she wanted to strangle me with it, and I found myself holding her more carefully as the tension gradually returned.
When she eventually pulled back, her forehead rested against mine.
"I don’t understand this," she whispered.
I almost made a joke.
For once, I didn’t.
"You don’t have to understand it tonight."
Her eyes lifted toward mine.
Something softened in them.
Then Seraphina kissed me again, and there was no anger in it at all.
That somehow hit considerably harder.
By the time we separated, neither of us looked remotely presentable. Seraphina’s blonde hair was a mess, my shirt was half torn, and my tail kept curling around her leg despite repeated mental orders to behave itself.
Seraphina noticed. Of course she did, and without hesitating, her hand caught my tail again.
My entire body immediately tensed.
A slow smile returned to her face.
"No."
"I didn’t do anything."
"You are thinking about doing something."
"Perhaps."
"Absolutely not."
She took one deliberate step closer.
I took one step backward.
Seraphina’s smile widened.
’This is bullshit. I rescued her.’
Another step put my back against the wall again.
Apparently the woman who’d spent the morning threatening me had discovered confidence at an alarming rate.
"We should probably leave the training room," I said.
"Why?"
"Because Lyra lives here."
"So?"
"So there are twenty-one other people living in this dungeon, and I’d prefer not to become tomorrow’s breakfast conversation."
Seraphina finally seemed to realize where we still were.
Her face turned scarlet, and that was adorable.
I grinned. "Now you’re embarrassed?"
"Shut up."
"After everything you just—"
She covered my mouth with her hand.
"No more talking."
I kissed her palm.
Seraphina immediately yanked it away. "You are impossible."
"And yet you’re still holding my tail."
She looked down, and she realized she was still holding it.
Her fingers released it so quickly I nearly laughed again.
I pushed away from the wall and started toward the doorway, making it three steps before realizing she hadn’t followed.
When I glanced back, Seraphina stood in the middle of the chamber watching me with an expression I couldn’t immediately read.
I raised an eyebrow. "Coming?"
Her gaze narrowed.
There was probably a less suggestive way I could have phrased that.
Oh well, too late.
Seraphina walked toward me, stopping close enough that her shoulder brushed mine as she passed.
"I still hate you."
"More convincing every time."
She reached behind herself without looking and grabbed my tail.
The resulting shiver nearly made my knees betray me.
Seraphina glanced over her shoulder and that smug little smile was back.
’Oh, fuck.’
I’d created seven future calamities, and I’d just taught the first one how to torture me.