Chapter 25

  Her kiss had all her pain behind it, and her hands shook as she gripped him by his hair pulling him hard against her, although he made no effort to pull back. His hands braced to either side of her, and he answered the hardness of mouth against mouth, angst to angst, until they were both breathless, and their kiss held the tang of blood – she did not know if it was his or hers.

  And then his mouth gentled against hers and he lowered onto his elbows so that he could smooth her hair back from her face. “I am sorry,” he said his lips against hers, his eyes closed and a frown dragging lined between his eyebrows. “I am sorry. I am sorry. Yelena… I am sorry.”

  His voice grated on the words, and suddenly he was her silver-haired boy, lost and lonely and needing acceptance and care, and she moaned as the anger dissipated. She gentled her hands in his hair, stroking where she had been pulling, and her mouth against his softened, her kisses tender, soothing.