When Ash Falls

by Rachel Van Dyken

  He was going to strangle Benedict with his bare hands.

  Was it not bad enough that Ash could barely restrain himself from taking the girl’s virginity? Now he was to take her to the falls? Truly, God had it out for him. Already he could feel his blood heating at the thought of having her alone — completely alone.

  “Follow me.” Ash gripped her hand and led her outside.

  In silence, they walked into the large garden overlooking Benedict’s estate until they came to the water. Several manmade statues — naked statues, mind — were in the middle of the water, and then at the end, the water cascaded off into a separate pool. The curtain of water was so wide one could fit at least four carriages side by side. But that wasn’t the appeal of the falls. No, the appeal lay in what was behind them.

  “Well, come along,” he said gruffly, tugging a gaping Sofia toward the entrance.

  Hands shaking, he led her down the narrow walkway that wound behind the sheet of water leading into the cave-like rooms that lingered behind the falls.

  There were six caves total, each of them made to look like a bedroom, complete with a bearskin rug thrown across the rock and a bed in the corner. No lights, save for the moon and two candles lit in the small room.

  “It’s beautiful!” Sofia gushed, releasing Ash’s hand and doing a twirl in the middle of the cave. “I cannot believe you would keep this from me!”

  “Yes, well…” Ash scratched his head and tried to think of anything but the way her hair kissed her shoulders. “…I had my reasons.”

  Sofia stopped twirling. “Are you going to kiss me now?”

  “No.” Ash said it quickly, sternly, then corrected himself when her face fell. “Did you talk to two gentlemen?”

  “Yes.”

  “I saw no such conversations take place. Tell me… were they in your head, Princess?”

  “You and the duke.”

  “Bloody hell! We do not count!”

  “You never specified.” She grinned. “So, my kiss.”

  “Manipulative little wench.”

  “Flattery…” Sofia said in a husky voice. “Careful or I’ll swoon directly into your arms.”

  Ash backed away from her tempting form. “Women do not swoon into my arms. They simply run into them. It’s as simple as that, no swooning necessary, I assure you.”

  “I believe it.” Sofia grinned, her dimple winking at him. “Shall I run into your arms, soldier?”

  “Who’s to say I’m willing to catch you?”

  “You’d never let me fall.”

  Truth. It was the truth, damn her. He’d no sooner let her fall than cut out his own heart. She was his to protect, not his to desire or want, but want and desire he did, more than he could ever remember. The flare in his soul went beyond a mere want; it was a need, damn-near necessary in order to keep him from going mad.

  Sofia took a step toward him then stopped, arching one eyebrow as if to taunt him.

  “Wait!” Ash held up his hands. “Remove your mask.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” Ash swallowed. “…I want to see your face.”

  “Did you forget what I looked like so soon?”

  “Never,” Ash vowed. “I simply haven’t had my fill.”

  Sofia’s eyes widened just slightly before she removed her black mask and tossed it onto the bed. She took another step.

  “And your hair,” Ash said in a hoarse voice. “Let it down.”

  “Your reason?”

  “Do I need to have a reason? How about this? I desire the way the short cut frames your face. I crave the shadow it casts upon your lips.”

  Without another word Sofia reached up and quickly removed the pins from her hair then carefully set them next to her mask.

  “Is that all?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Or shall I remove my dress as well?”

  Ash groaned aloud. “That wouldn’t do… because then I would ravish you, ruining you for all men.”

  “A bit overconfident.”

  “I’d like to think I’m just very well aware of my skills.”

  Sofia took another step and played with the sleeves of her ruby gown. “Well? What will it be, soldier?”

  “Dance for me, Princess.”

  “Alone?”

  Ash nodded, leaning his head back against the rock wall. “Just a few twirls, swing your hips, let me drink you in… let me look at you.”

  Sofia didn’t argue or ask why, she held out her arms and twirled in front of him, and then, in a move so seductive Ash nearly collapsed to the ground, she crooked her finger in his direction.

  He took one step, then two, three more, and he was tugging her body against his. “This will never work, Princess.”

  “For now… can it work for now, soldier?”

  “Are you asking me to live in the moment… embrace my passion?”

  “I’m a princess,” she hissed. “I never ask. I demand.”

  “Are you demanding me, Princess?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Hell no.” He crushed his mouth against hers, lifting her body into the air at the same time.

  She hooked her ankles around his legs and moved against him.

  With a groan, he walked them to the bed and laid her down, deepening the kiss, softening his touch against her skin, not wanting to bruise her perfection.

  She pulled her lips away from his; a frown marred her troubled face. “Could you come to care for me?”

  “Sofia…”

  “Please… no witty response… just truth.”

  “Just truth.” Ash repeated, touching his forehead to hers. “I already do.”

  “And would you — that is… if you were titled… if you were given the choice… if we had more time… if I told you I cared for you in return, would you marry me?”

  “Princess.” Ash sighed. “There were a lot of ifs in that question.”

  “Please, Ash.”

  Lying to her would be the hardest thing he’d ever done, because she deserved someone better than him, someone who would give her his whole heart, someone who had a future, who would live past the next few years, live to see their children. “If I was given a choice, it would be you. Every. Time.”

  Sofia reached up and kissed him, her mouth thanking him better than her words ever could.

  “But—” He pulled away, angry that he had to. “—I do not have a choice. You do not have a choice.”

  “What if I did?”

  “You don’t.”

  “What if I gave up everything to—”

  “Shh.” Ash pressed his fingertip to her lips. “Do not dwell on things you cannot change. By my calculations, we still have a near three weeks before you must announce an engagement.”

  “To a title.” She looked crestfallen.

  Ash ignored the annoying pang in his chest paired with the irritating voice in his head that said he could fix it all. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He marrying her would fix nothing. She’d end up resenting him, for how could a half a person with half a heart — an assassin? Marry a woman so pure that her skin glowed with it.

  “I care for you.” He said it softly in her ear as to ease her mind. “Let us leave it at that.”

  “For now.” She sighed.

  “For now,” he agreed, his mouth meeting hers.

  She arched beneath him, her soft body writhing against his. “Show me passion, Ash… show me.”

  “Say my name again.”

  “Ash…” She kissed his mouth, tugging on his lower lip. “My fallen Ash…”

  How true her words were… for he had fallen so far he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever see the light of day again — nor did he care.

  “Let me love you,” he whispered, taking great care to kiss every square inch of her neck, branding her, leaving his mark in the most obvious way he knew how.

  “Please…” She breathed. “Please.”

  “Passion.” He played with the material of her sleeves. “What a si
lly little proposition.” He gave a tug; the front of her dress was loose enough that it fell across her arms.

  “Silly,” she murmured, leaning up on her elbows. “Is that your way of saying thank you?”

  “No.” He grinned and lowered his head. “This is.”

  Her soft cries and gentle sighs were all that filled the cave.

  When Ash had thought he’d taken his full, he would discover another spot he had yet to explore, another area his lips hadn’t yet tasted. So he explored. He tasted. He claimed.

  And when the evening grew colder, he knew it was time to return the princess back to the castle and lock the dragon back into its cage.

  “Sofia,” he whispered against her hair. “We should go.”

  “But it’s magical.” She kissed his mouth again, her lips swollen from their night of passion. “Can’t we stay?”

  “I wish we could.” Just like he wished a lot of things.

  Ash helped her rearrange her dress and hair. They silently made their way back to the large manor where the ball was still in full swing. They rounded the house and called for their carriage.

  “Thank you,” Sofia whispered once they were safely back at Dominique’s townhome.

  “For?” Ash asked, leading her into the great hall.

  “Tonight.” She looked down and licked her lips then quickly kissed his mouth and ran up the stairs.

  Ash stood motionless in the entryway.

  He would burn in hell for the ways he had touched her.

  But he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but elated that she’d trusted him enough to let him.

  With a curse, he rubbed his face with his hands. What the devil was he doing? Playing with fire, that’s what.

  He could not promise her anything, yet he wanted to. So many times it had been on the tip of his tongue to say something about his true identity, to tell her he could rescue her, save her.

  But that was what happened when one wallowed in darkness for so long; thoughts of being worthy enough to save — let alone to be the one to do the saving — ceased.

  He was neither of those things.

  As he slowly ascended the stairs to his rooms, bypassing all of the Royal Guard, who had naturally fallen asleep as they stood watch, he could not help but wonder if the story would end the same way it had begun — with him fleeing the country, broken heart in hand.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I give as much all I am, and it is still not enough to satisfy. —The Grimm Reaper

  SOFIA STARED INTO THE darkness. It had taken quite a while for her to ready herself for bed because she had refused to have Ana help her, knowing that the maid would see the marks Ash had left on her chest and thighs.

  The man’s mouth was meant for pleasure.

  A pleasure she craved. It was as if the more he gave, the more she wanted. He’d said he cared, but could he love her? Was it worth the risk?

  A rustling sounded in the other room.

  She held her breath.

  “Damn it!” Something hit a wall, and then more cursing.

  Without a second thought, she charged into Ash’s room with a candle. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” Ash’s chest heaved. His shirt was open, buttons had popped from their holes, and his face was a grimace of irritation.

  “May I help?”

  “Undressing,” he said gruffly. “Remember when we first met and—”

  “You were rude to me — how could I forget?”

  “I wasn’t rude, simply… eager to—”

  “Be rid of me, yes, I know.”

  “Stop finishing my sentences!”

  She arched her brows. “Well?”

  “My arm, there are times it pains me, and I cannot lift it at the right angle to remove my shirtsleeves. The pain shoots across my chest, causing me to lose my breath.”

  “Here.” Sofia set down the candle and walked over to Ash. She carefully pulled the shirt from his body then ran her fingers across his muscled back. So many scars, so many stories. “Is that better?”

  “Don’t stop.” His voice was hoarse.

  As she continued running her hands over his skin, he swayed on his feet.

  Without speaking, she grabbed his hand and led him to the bed, where she gently helped him lie down.

  “Like a witch lulling me to sleep,” he slurred.

  Sofia chuckled softly to herself and kissed his cheek. “Sleep, my Ash.”

  “Your Ash,” he repeated. “I’m yours.”

  “Yes…” She fought the emotion clogging her throat. “…yes, you are.”

  The next two weeks flew by at an increased rate. Ash never left Sofia’s side, and for that she was grateful. He was always ready to pull her in for a dance when she was about ready to throttle another suitor, and in the evening, he loved her. Though her guard seemed to become more and more suspicious, possibly because of the laughter that came from their rooms at night. She merely made up a lie that she was reading an amusing book.

  Ash had rolled his eyes in her direction and later that evening asked her what possible written word could be better than his mouth?

  None. The answer was none, and he proved it over and over again.

  As she neared the final week of their affair, her heart started to get sick with worry; almost every evening he would need more and more help undressing, his arm giving him more pain than he said it had in the last few years.

  And each time she’d asked him to see a doctor, he refused.

  Finally, with only five days left of their time together, Sofia became so worried that she took matters into her own hands and sent a note immediately to the Duke of Haverstone.

  She had some tea brought into the drawing room and waited patiently for the butler’s announcement.

  Right on time. “The Duke of Haverstone.”

  Hunter waltzed right into the room and sat. “My, my, things must be very serious for you to send a note directly to my residence.”

  “It’s Ash.”

  “Bloody hell, what has he done now?” Hunter leaned forward. “If he’s… hurt… you in any way, or—“

  “No.” Sofia almost laughed. “No it isn’t that. He’s… he’s in pain.”

  “Ah, my dear…” Hunter leaned back in his chair. “…that is what a broken heart does to a man. It causes pain.”

  “Not that type of pain.” Sofia clenched her fists. “He cannot change out of his clothes!”

  Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “And you know this because you simply stumble into his room every evening?”

  The blood drained from Sofia’s face, leaving her lightheaded, and, doubtless, her entire face had turned white as a ghost.

  “Hmm, seems my brother has been keeping secrets from me.” His face turned grim. “Now answer my question. It stays between us, but how do you know of his suffering?”

  “I—I can’t say.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “We’ve become…” She swallowed. “…close.”

  “How close?” Hunter’s voice was filled with dread; his eyes pinched together.

  “Friends,” she said with a forced cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “He tells me things, and he said that… it pains him every night and, well, our bedchambers are side by side. I hear him try to undress without his valet. You see, we both arrive so late from the balls that we simply dismiss the staff.”

  “I’m sure that’s the only reason,” Hunter said dryly.

  “Speak plainly if you wish to insult me.” Sofia tilted her chin into the air, pretending to be upset when really she was terrified of exposure.

  “Tell me…” Hunter reached for a cup of tea. “…have you decided upon a gentleman yet?”

  Sofia’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “Ah, has my brother made the decision that difficult?”

  “No. Of course not.” Sofia forced a smile. “He is simply a good friend, a protector, helping me find my way. He even promised to introduce me to Lord Grimm.”
The lie was far too easy.

  “Oh really?” Hunter’s face was utter disbelief. “And how did that go?”

  Sofia panicked. Hunter saw too much. If he believed her to be with Ash, they’d be forced to marry, and then she’d lose her country — not that she hadn’t entertained the thought, but she wasn’t sure yet, wasn’t sure Ash loved her as much as she loved him. She would give up everything, but she needed to be sure he would do the same, so she lied again. “It was lovely! Absolutely lovely, I believe I might choose him.”

  “Splendid match.” Hunter’s smile grew. “Has Dominique spoken to the gentleman?”

  Sofia coughed into her hand. “No, er, not yet. Lord Grimm had to leave for a few days and only just returned.”

  “Allow me the honor.” Hunter winked. “I know the fellow quite well.”

  “Oh, but he’s very private!” Sofia held out her hands. “He’d think it rude if you simply asked about me.”

  “I know exactly how to approach it, my dear.” Hunter took another sip of tea. “I was a spy for the Crown. I’ll simply fish for information and plant the lovely idea in his head that a proposal would be — advantageous for him.”

  “Yes,” Sofia croaked, nearly choking on her tea. “That sounds… wonderful.” But it didn’t. Because Lord Grimm was not Ash.

  And she wanted Ash.

  Even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

  “Well then...” Hunter stood. “…I really should be going.”

  “You’ll talk to Ash then?” Sofia jumped to her feet. “You’ll force him to see a doctor?”

  “Why does it concern you so?” Hunter asked. “Why does it matter?”

  “Because…” Sofia looked down at her feet. “…I care for him a great deal. He is… the best friend I’ve ever had.” That was the truth. Oh, he was so much more, but that was how it had started. He was her friend, and he’d always be her friend first, her lover second. Oh, that he could be her husband as well.

  “Good answer.” Hunter reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I imagine you’ll be at the annual Renwick ball this evening?”

  Sofia forced the tears to stay in. It wouldn’t do to cry in front of the man’s brother. She loved him and could not have him. “Yes, I look forward to it.”