The Inquisitor's Ghost

by nothelping

She met him in the dungeons of the White Spire. She was the only one who could see him, remember him. Five years later, and Cole was back in her life, appearing out of thin air, just like the ghostly apparition he was, tempting her with something she could never have. Because every mage knew: Never take a demon into your soul. You'll change yourself forever.

16. Chapter 16 – Breathe You

The Inquisitor's Ghost

Author's Note: This chapter has a soundtrack: Begin Again by Purity Ring.

Chapter 16 – Breathe You

Never take a spirit into your soul

You'll change yourself forever

- Anders

Cole moved swiftly, pushing Ember up against the wall in her bedchamber. Her back collided against the unyielding wood with a soft thud. Her pulse leapt when his palm pressed against the wall beside her head, trapping her there. Heat flared through her when he shifted his weight from his hand to his elbow, forcing himself closer until their breaths mingled. His free hand grabbed her thigh and lifted her leg to hook around his hip, pinning her to the wall with his body, and the heat she felt turned into an inferno.

Blonde eyebrows drew together, bold slashes across a chiseled face with skin as smooth and pale as marble. "Wait. I did that wrong. Let me try again."

Through the fog of desire that had clouded her mind and gripped her senses, Ember dazedly managed to utter, "W-What?"

Cole stammered quickly, "The Iron Bull said this is how you start." His brow puckered more. "No, wait, I have to do this first."

He let go of her leg and took both of her wrists in one hand and dragged them over her head, pressing them into the wall.

"And then grab you like this."

His free hand lifted to latch onto one breast, and Ember winced at his rough and inexperienced touch.

Cole saw her flinch and he quickly released her, his expression etched with distress. "No, no, no. I messed it up already. I can't seem to get anything right!"

Ember's mouth hung open, her brain hazy. She tried to quell her staccato heartbeat as she watched Cole start to pace in front of her bed, a cheery fire crackling in the hearth behind him, a gentle midnight wind coming in through her open window. By the tension radiating from his shoulders and jaw, and the vexed shine in his eyes, she knew he was really distraught.

He twisted his hands together. "I've already messed up. I don't know how to fix it. Unless…" she heard him mutter to himself as he continued to pace restlessly. "Varric said I need to get a rose and put it between my teeth, tell you that you're pretty, and then drag a piece of ice down your stomach." He stopped and turned to face her, his eyes wide and hopeful. "Do you have a rose and some ice?"

Ember was so stunned all she could do was stare at him, openmouthed and with a look of utter and complete astonishment on her face. "I… I don't want any of that," she managed. "I don't want platitudes and meaningless things."

His face fell. "But the Iron Bull and Varric said-"

"I don't want Bull or Varric," she murmured softly. "I want you."

Cole fell silent and Ember stared at the ghostly being in front of her. He was unlike anyone or anything else. Born differently, made differently, a different breed. Preternatural, ethereal, completely and utterly unique. He saw with other eyes, the innervisions of the soul. They were afraid of him. They didn't understand him. They found him strange, odd, creepy even. But he was someone to watch over her, protect her, something no one had ever wanted to do.

Cole was not the cold-blooded killer she'd believed him to be for five long years. But the combination of a mage and a creature from the Fade was never a good one. Even in the best of circumstances, the odds of a positive outcome were depressingly low. But add attraction - an overwhelmingly uncontrollable attraction - and disaster became inescapable.

Cole was a spirit – and a highly sensitive spirit at that - one that was deeply touched and moved by the things around him. This world was strange to him and there was so much about it that he didn't understand.

Solas had once said that spirits didn't work through emotions, they embodied them. How difficult and frightening it must be then for Cole to feel all of these new and confusing emotions that were so powerful they'd been known to cause people to do unspeakable things.

She couldn't help but worry about him. People became vulnerable and at times crazed when it came to sharing their body with someone else. It was visceral, instinctive, and totally consuming. The heart was in it just as much as the body. So how was Cole going to handle this? Would he become overwhelmed? How would he react?

The fire in the hearth gave a loud, sharp snap, pulling her from her thoughts. Ember looked up to find Cole watching her closely.

"This is hard for you," he stated, as if reading her thoughts, those eyes seeing everything, missing nothing.

A red eyebrow rose. "Are you able to sense my feelings?"

"No. I listen but I hear only silence. Your face says a lot."

"To be honest, I never thought this would ever happen for me. It's just so… intimate." She sighed, the back of her head connecting with the wall. "I never thought I'd ever be able to trust someone enough to share so much of myself, not after all of the betrayals and abuse I've suffered." She honestly believed she would be forever carrying her chastity to her death.

"Trust for you isn't easy," he said gently. "Starved, burned, beaten by family and templars. The entire world afraid of what you are, seeing only a viper ready to strike, one that needs to be caged and watched carefully, or will taken away completely. This world has taught you to live alone, and to fear everything and everyone."

"I trust you," she replied sincerely. For all his otherworldliness, she trusted him instinctually.

Cole held her gaze for a long second, and then the corner of his mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile as his head tilted down ever so slightly. "I know." His voice was soft and breathy. "In your eyes I see trust, but I also see fear. Not of me, but of what may come from this. Warnings from others bounce around inside your head, staring back at me."

Ember didn't deny it. "Let's take this slow," she said. "We'll stop if it doesn't feel right."

He looked at her for an interminable moment before saying, "Teach me what to do."

"I'm not sure myself. I've never done this before," she murmured, sweeping her tongue over her dry lips uncertainly. "Are you… do you know… what to expect?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes." His eyebrows pulled together. "No." He swallowed. "Maybe."

She laughed nervously. "I know the feeling."

The silence that followed was awkward. Ember rubbed her arm timidly while her eyes looked everywhere but at him. Honestly, she didn't know what to expect. Her parents had been too busy beating her to rid her of magic to teach her about this kind of stuff. Leandra Hawke would've told her, except at the time she'd stayed with them Ember had been too young for such talks. And before Cole showed up at Skyhold, she'd never asked because she'd never thought this would ever happen for her.

"What… what do you want me to do?" Cole whispered into the creaking silence.

Ember licked her lips once, twice, and then swallowed. "What are you wanting to do?"

"The book said to-"

"I didn't ask what the book said," she murmured gently. "I asked what you wanted to do?"

Cole stared down at the ground, deep in thought. After a long pause, his chin lifted and she collided with startlingly intense blue eyes enhanced by spiky black lashes. "I want to smell your hair."

Her heart gave a dislocated stumble as he strode toward her. The blood rushed to her cheeks when his hand reached out to wrap around the hair that framed one side of her face. His crimson fist pressed against his nose and he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply. He sighed with an air of contentment and then uttered softly, "My favorite smell."

He crushed her hair to his face, to his nose, to his mouth, and she could hear the faint pull of his nostrils as he breathed her in, holding it deep within, releasing it slowly, with reluctance. "I don't sleep much, but when I do, I dream of it everywhere, wrapped all around me."

The hand in her hair tugged gently to the side, exposing her neck to him. Cole dipped his head until his lips brushed against the soft skin just under the corner of her jaw. Her breath hitched and her breathing became labored as his lips moved along the edge of her jaw, letting his mouth graze her skin, leaving a trail of fire.

"I want to taste your skin." His hot breath fell heavily across her skin, his voice wrapping around her senses like a dark caress. Her head fell to the side limply as his mouth unerringly found the pulse at her throat, and licked it. "You taste like… red."

Cole pulled back slowly to look at her from under hooded lids, his eyes a hundred shades darker than only moments before. "What do you want to do?"

Ember's knees felt weak, her breathing shallow. She forced herself to hold his intense gaze while he rubbed the curls wrapped around his fist against his cheek. She spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable separately, "I want to feel your skin against mine."

His eyes widened in alarm and he took a quick step back, her hair unwrapping itself from around his hand. "You want them… off?" Cole's voice wavered with trepidation and uncertainty. "But… but Evangeline was mad when I saw her without her clothes on. I was just trying to learn about Rhys. I wasn't there to see her like that." He bit his lip, his voice lowering. "She was very angry with me."

Her lips quirked. "I won't be angry."

A nervous flush came over him, and he looked away from her guiltily. "After Haven… I had to bathe you in the river to remove all the blood, sweat, snow, and dirt. I did my best not to look at you. I turned my head to the side and peeked out of one eye."

"Thank you for taking care of m-"

"But when I was bandaging your side my knuckles accidentally brushed… one of these." He pointed to one of her breasts. "I looked. I couldn't help it. I told my eyes to stop looking, but they wouldn't listen to me. I'm sorry."

She glanced at him coyly through her lashes. "It's alright. I want you to see me. I want to see you too."

Cole stood stiff for a long moment before bending at the waist to remove his boots and his belt. They dropped to the wooden floor with a thud. Ember stepped forward, going to work on his armor with trembling hands. It was strange to help him with the assorted straps and buckles crisscrossing his body, stranger to watch her hands help remove the pieces.

She helped him remove the cuirass over his head and then the black tunic underneath to reveal his bare shoulders, arms, chest, and hard, flat stomach. His body was starkly lean. He needed to eat more, she thought. He was made up of nothing but evident bones and trim, steely muscle lined with smooth, sinewy skin so pale it looked like fresh snow. His pants were loose, hanging low on his narrow hips, and her eyes lingered on his lower abdomen and jutting hipbones.

Her heart hammered away in her chest as she watched those pants fall to the floor, forgotten, and he stood before her in nothing but his skin. Her mouth went dry, her pounding heart roaring in her ears as her eyes fell lower to stare, transfixed, her eyes growing huge. She'd never seen a naked man before. She felt the sensation of heat intensify in her face as she continued to stare without blinking, trying desperately to reduce the heat burning in her cheeks, but knew she was only deluding herself.

Her eyes slowly dragged up his body to his face that was inches from hers, illuminated by the firelight. They were so close, she could've counted his eyelashes, if she'd been clearheaded enough to count anything. His gaze burned into hers, hotter than the fire mere feet away, and all she could think was that he was absolutely, unquestionably the most exquisite thing ever to walk this earth.

"You're beautiful." She didn't even realize she'd spoken out loud until she heard the thready sound of her voice.

His glittered in the firelight. "Can a spirit be beautiful?"

"I don't know if a spirit can, but you are."

Gathering her courage, Ember brought her hands to the bottom of her long tunic she wore for sleeping. She pulled it up, over her thighs and hips, over her waist and chest, until everything was obscured and she knew he was looking at her body. She couldn't see his reaction. But she felt it in the air. Everything went still.

Finally the tunic was free of her head, and as she pulled it away she felt the necklace he'd made for her fall against her bare chest while her long hair tumbled down her back, the red curls swaying from one hip to the other.

She couldn't look at Cole, feeling inexplicably shy, and it unnerved her. No one had ever seen her naked before. She didn't like the insecurity she felt, or the thoughts running through her head – that her breasts were too small, her hips too narrow, her skin too freckly and littered with too many scars and burns. She'd been told multiple times that she had the figure of a boy.

It was natural, she supposed, to be self-conscious in a situation like this, but she willed it away nonetheless. She'd had to develop a thick skin to survive the lonely and harsh life of an apostate and she didn't like this new vulnerability. It was a weakness, and she'd never liked being weak.

Taking a deep breath, Ember forced herself to look at Cole, her chin naturally lifting in an unconscious gesture of defensiveness.

Cole stood there, watching her, not close enough to touch, but close enough to burn her. His intense gaze raked over her body, his eyes wide as they touched on every inch of her muscle toned body, as if he wanted to etch her image into his mind so he could never erase it, even if he wanted to.

She was suddenly no longer embarrassed about standing naked in front of him, not when he looked at her like that. No one had ever looked at her like that – like they thought she was beautiful.

"So much skin," he whispered, sounding in awe as he lifted his hand, but didn't touch her. It hovered close to her skin. "Can I… can I touch you?" He was hopeful. Excited. Smiling.

She nodded, unable to form words. A strange mix of yearning and tenderness filled her, edged sharply by nervousness.

His hand was not quite steady when it lifted to her shoulder to drag slowly down her arm. His fingernails trailed lightly over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

A puzzled expression crossed his face, as if he was struggling to understand something. "Giants, demons, dragons." The words left him in a gruff whisper.

"What about them?" Was that breathy voice really hers?

"You've killed them all. Many times. I don't see how…"

"What?"

"How something so strong can be this… soft."

"I don't think anyone's ever called me soft before."

He gave her a boyishly impatient look. "Can I… can I touch you more?"

Her chest heaved with the effort to control her breathing. "More?"

"Everywhere."

"Okay."

The next thing Ember knew she was lying on her back on her bed. Cole was stretched out beside her, skin to skin, his fingers tracing every scar that adorned her flesh, slowly and diligently, as if he thought his touch alone could heal each and every one of the old faded scars that were mixed among fresh ones that were peppered all over her body.

Her throat tightened when he turned her onto her side to reach the telltale scars of the lash that streaked her back, scars that indicated her magical and rebellious nature that others had always found in need of violent restraint. It was that cruel pattern that his fingers now traced, touching each and every lash with a reverence that brought tears to her eyes. She shivered when he touched the Chantry sunburst burned into the nape of her neck, tracing with a forefinger, exploring the damaged skin that was tied to something profoundly vulnerable inside of her.

Once he'd touched every scar and burn on her body, he began exploring her. He branded her everywhere he could with heated, gentle hands that were rough with calluses. Such hands were made for brandishing a dagger and vanquishing a foe. Killing hands. But where they touched; she responded. It was elemental, instinctual. The most basic of physical principles, brought to life by his hands.

The first touches were tentative and hesitant, careful, as if he feared she would break. His inexperienced caresses too rough in some places, far too light in others. But that soon changed. He watched her reactions with rapt attention, learning her.

Lying on her back, Cole's hand traced down her breastbone. "Like… like this?"

Her back arched like a bowstring, her pulse skittering wildly while a strange achy feeling coiled low in her belly. "Yeah."

His fingertips skimmed up her side, over her hip, to lightly trace each rib. "Like this?"

Her chest heaved as she struggled to draw fresh air into her oxygen-deprived lungs. "Yeah."

She tried to mirror the action on him, stroking his skin with her fingertips, and noticed his breathing change. Her hand trailed lower and she reveled in the feeling of the muscles of his hard stomach contracting violently beneath her roaming fingers. "Like this?"

Ember felt a trembling along her skin as he dragged his thumb along her bottom lip, pushing her lips apart.

"Yeah," he murmured before covering her mouth, filling her with his moonlight taste that went straight to her head.

She felt the swift, responsive rise of warmth inside her, the raw, coiling tension—and let herself be carried away on it, swept along by a force to strong to resist.

He broke the kiss and her heart was a drum against her ribs as his calloused fingers ran up the smooth skin of her inner thigh. Her eyelids fluttered shut and her thighs quaked when he touched her heated flesh with just the lightest brush of his fingers.

"I'm sorry," he whispered apologetically against her lips, his voice full of worry. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm-"

"Liked it… very much." The words were a jumbled mess as they tumbled out of her mouth. They were the only words that came to mind.

He looked doubtful for a moment. Then his slick fingers retracted before sliding against her again, into her, probing carefully. "Like this?"

Her hips jerked forward against his hand as she moaned. "Yeah."

She felt hot. All over. When his mouth moved to the column of her throat her breathing disintegrated into urgent pants and she thought she might be in danger of hyperventilating. A fierce burning was starting low in her belly, getting higher and higher.

She urgently ran her hand down his flat stomach before wrapping her hand around him in return. "Like this?"

Cole made a strangled sound and his teeth scraped along the side of her neck. "Yeah."

His knee nudged her legs farther apart. She let them fall open so he could settle fully on top of her, his arms locked on either side of her head. Those eyes looked right… right down into her, seeing beyond where her spirit was and into the very matter that comprised it.

"Is this… okay?" he croaked, nervously searching her eyes as he spoke. "Being in you. Is it okay?"

Ember tried to swallow the terrifying feeling of stepping off a ledge into the great unknown. She'd faced fear before, many times, gut-wrenching fear that most people thankfully never had to face. But this was something else entirely. But she wouldn't let fear get in the way with what she wanted. And what she wanted was him. She wanted him more than she wanted to breathe. Maker help them both, she was going to have him.

"It's okay," she replied. "I want to know you… like this."

Cole continued to watch her, his eyes fretful on her face, her answer doing nothing to smooth the deep crease between his eyebrows. He was afraid, she realized. She could feel it in the way he looked at her. She could hear it in the tone of his voice. She could feel it with every sharp rise and fall of his chest.

"It's okay to be afraid," she heard herself utter softly. "I am too."

"I don't want anything bad to happen. I couldn't… I wouldn't be able to… it's just that to me you are… you're… you're…" His voice trailed off as words failed him. Cole stared down at her helplessly – words unable to form in his mouth. "The words bounce off the edges."

"What are you trying to say?" Ember asked as she ran her hands soothingly through his shaggy blonde hair, down his smooth face and neck, to drag down the strong curvature of his spine.

Cole chewed his lip as he tried to put a difficult thought into words. And then his eyes claimed hers – moist and glistening - and didn't release them. "That you're… you're… like air. You're what I must take into myself to exist. Essential, necessary, death without it." Something soft stroked her cheek. His thumb, brushing over her cheekbone. "I… breathe you," he whispered with a break in his voice.

Ember felt all her thoughts collide and break apart before sliding down into her chest cavity where her heartbeat was nothing more than his name. "I breathe you, too."

She reached for him and he stiffened as she guided him to her without a moment of hesitation, his eyes on hers like they'd been placed in his skull solely for that purpose as she took him into her body.

Cole stilled immediately within her, and her body naturally wanted to take him in all the way. Her heels climbed to press into the small of his back, pushing him further inside her.

"Don't," he groaned as if he was in agony, a grimace contorting his features. "Too… too much. Not enough. Everything at once."

She paused, her breath sharp, coming in rapid bursts. "Are you okay?"

"I'm liquid," Cole husked, a tremor she'd never heard before threading his voice. "Water in a cup, defined, deafened, hearing only your song."

Her hands ran up his sides and felt the spasms of his muscles beneath her palms. "Do you want to stop?"

He looked down, and she drowned in the dark dilated pupils of his eyes. "Never."

Her heels pressed into the small of his back again, pushing him further inside her, and he sank into her slowly, gradually, claiming her irrevocably as his own.

The breath tore violently from her chest as pain and searing heat raced along every nerve ending in her body. It hurt. She hadn't been prepared for it. Her eyes watered from the pain. She was strong, she could handle this, but she felt as though she was being torn in half from the inside out as he stretched parts of her she didn't know could be stretched.

Cole remained unmoving, completely frozen above her. The hard angles of his face were tense, and so was the rest of his body. "I-I… I can feel you." She watched a shudder wrack through him and the play of strong emotion on his taut features. "All around me. Surrounding me. Completing me."

Her heart was palpitating, her ribs barely holding back a heart not used to this kind of feeling. The heaviness in her chest grew as she felt the bond between them swell and grow, expand and harden, flow and tighten. She could feel him being pumped into her heart, becoming a part of her. Could feel his soul fuse irreversibly with her own, changing her forever.

Blinking away tears, she looked into his face. One of her hands wrapped around the side of his head, and she pulled him down to her. He lowered to his elbows, cradling her head between his forearms as his forehead fell lightly against hers, blonde strands falling against her face. Her other hand dropped to his back, and she squeezed him, pressing her forehead back against his as luminous blue orbs stared into hers, glittering like falling stars. He was shaking, trembling, quacking. Just as much as she was.

Her voice wavered, "Have you ever felt anything this strong?"

"No." His voice was rough and thick and filled with so much emotion.

They both went utterly still, and for several moments, all they did was stare. They didn't shift or breathe or speak. They remained staring at each other, their gazes locked, time frozen in a moment so sharp, so raw, she could hear his heartbeat, feel the turbulent rhythm echo her own.

But she needed – desperately needed – for him to do something. Anything. She was dying for him to move. She was so unbelievably hot. She needed him to move so badly she hurt from it.

But he didn't. He made no move at all. And he wouldn't, either. This first time, she would have to take control.

"I want to be on top," she said. "All right?"

He nodded and licked his lips.

She sat up and turned him over. She adjusted her legs on either side of him, and her eyes locked with his. Cole made a deep, raw sound as she slowly lowered herself onto him, his eyes never leaving hers, his lips parting as they emitted a broken breath.

"I'm going... to move now," she panted, oxygen hard to catch. It still hurt, terribly, but she was used to pain. She refused to feel it and let it get in the way. "If you don't like it just tell me to stop, okay?"

"What… what do I do?"

"Hold me here."

She put her hands over his and guided them to her. They dragged up her thighs to close tight around her waist. Her eyes held his as she moved her hips awkwardly, hesitant and uncertain, unsure of what to do. The single movement caused her blood to turn molten, scorching through his veins like a wildfire.

He groaned wildly, his body bucking against the hold he kept on her hips. She began to move awkwardly against him and his eyes caressed her face the entire time. He watched her closely, fixedly, studied every shift in her expression, every nuance, taking the measure of her soul.

He watched her make him hers.

She became more certain the longer it went on. And by the time she stopped worrying about if she was doing everything all right, her pelvis was moving very deliberately against his, creating the most mind-shattering friction.

His face contorted with a painful look of ecstasy while his head tilted back, jaw tensed, fingers digging into the flesh enveloping his hips. "This… this is the best thing… I've ever felt."

His words were lost on Ember as her head fell back. She could hardly breathe. Her movements became more instinctive, more desperate. She wasn't in control of her own body any more. Inside, she felt as though she were running, running toward something, but she didn't know what. She felt herself unraveling from the aching fire that had been ignited within her. It was too much, too intense, the sensations too overwhelming, and her lashes lowered with the impact.

"No," Cole ordered, his breathing harsh and ragged. "Eyes open, dear heart. See me and I'll see you."

Her eyes snapped open to find him watching her through heavily lidded eyes that were alive with an emotion that was more intense than want, stronger than hunger, more tender than affection.

"I need to know this is real," he whispered brokenly.

Acting on instinct, her body undulated, and a shockwave rippled through her muscles, making them spasm. There was a forest fire in the marrow of her bones, the sensation so exquisite she lost track of her own name.

He arched off the bed, breathing in a hard, raw rhythm, while heat radiated out of him. "Burning me alive." His eyes flickered and darkened, something subtle and dangerous moving in their smoke-blue depths. "Self and shape derailing, realigning, undone, remade."

Ember couldn't answer. Not when she could barely remember who she was any more. Suddenly, helplessly, her entire body went rigid, and she let out a strangled cry at the brutal rush of feeling, the savage fire that streaked through her, but she was powerless against the fierce sensations that seemed to be tearing her apart and causing every muscle in her body to tighten and shudder violently.

As she came down from her high, she felt herself being lifted and flipped onto her back. Alarmed, her eyelids snapped open to find him grabbing her waist and yanking her to him, her back sliding across the sheets. His hands latched her behind her knees and wrapped her legs around his tapered waist, driving into her so unexpectedly she cried out.

"This can't stop." The syllables rose and fell disjointedly, like he couldn't bear to see it happen. "Never want this to end."

Cole found her hand and leaned over her to press it into the pillow beside her head, his fingers intertwining with hers, every line of his face etched with something raw and vulnerable. "Never let anything take this away from me."

Piercing blue eyes delved into hers as he slid out torturously slow… then slid in the same way. Her fingers tightened on his, a low moan escaping her. He slid into her again and again, deeper into her, as if he couldn't go far enough, as if he was trying to reach for something deep within her.

"Not - close - enough." The words were raw and desperate as he clung to her like he was drowning, as if he'd never let go. "Must - need - closer."

He dropped his head into her neck, his sweat-soaked locks falling against her skin. His rhythm intensified, his breath shallow and rapid in her ear, "…need to be so close you can't breathe without me being a part of you…" The hoarse, rasped words fell heavy against the slick skin of her throat.

Her fingers curled into the rippling muscles of his back, holding on for dear life as he pushed harder and deeper into her until there wasn't any way they could possibly get any closer, until she felt him embedded in her soul. Sweat beading on his brow, between his shoulder blades, and trickled down his stomach. He was pushing, thrusting, living inside her. Gasping, breathless, starved, intense.

The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end when she felt the vital, dark, dangerous energy that was so much a part of him flow off of him in tingling, power-filled waves. Raw power - straight and uncut from the Fade - crashed against her skin, pricking her conscious, probing at her mind like little fingers. Was he doing it intentionally or unconsciously? She closed her eyes, unable to think about the danger of what he was doing to her, with her.

"…a week from now or a month… I don't want to be the only one who remembers this…" He pulled back slightly to look down at her and his eyes were wild in a way she'd not seen before. The pupils of his eyes were glazed, enlarged, so dark there was only a thin line of blue circling the black that was so deep she could lose herself forever in them. And lurking within that fathomless blackness was something other that peered down at her with absolute possession.

"You will remember me," he uttered in a tone so hoarse and ravaged it was barely comprehensible. "Will make you remember me."

His mouth slammed down on hers - hot and needy, hungry and possessive. The unexpected fierceness of it dredged a raw whimper from deep in her throat. He seemed lost to all rational thought as his kiss rose to an uncontrolled frenzy of desperation as he fused them together. She felt his nails scratch down her arms as his mouth turned ravenous, twisting, bruising against hers. Lips ground into teeth that clashed and bit at soft skin. She tasted blood but wasn't sure if it was hers or his. She didn't care. She loved it. Loved it when he was passionate like this, when he kissed her like he was lost in it. The tip of his tongue lightly brushed the little cut his passionate and inexperienced kiss had caused on her bottom lip that gave a little pinprick of pain she hardly noticed.

His mouth, and the warmth and weight of his body, suddenly disappeared. Cold air hit her fevered skin as she suddenly found herself kissing nothing but air. Confused, her eyes flew open and she sat up sharply to find Cole sitting back on his heels at the end of the bed, one hand pressed against his forehead.

Ember immediately came to her senses, the world righting itself, as she stared at him, her chest heaving, aquamarine eyes wide and lips parted, wildly unruly red curls all around her. She was confused. Why was he all the way over there? She hated the distance he put between them just now and she didn't understand it. Did she do something wrong? Was he okay?

"Cole?" Her expression was full of concern and worry, and she was breathless when she spoke. "Is something wrong?"

His hand fell away from his forehead and he shook his head, as if clearing it. As if he was confused and in a daze, he touched his lips and pulled his fingers away to stare at the little bit of blood on his fingertips. He blanched, his eyes saucering, his face twisting into a stricken look of horror and disbelief as he stared at the blood on his fingertips that was not his own. His fear-glassed eyes lifted to fix on the little cut on her lip that he'd caused.

She watched his eyes fall to stare unblinking at her arms with shock and shame and hurt. Her gaze lowered to find red claw marks running down her arms from where his nails had dragged. Her gaze returned to his and she watched Cole look down at his hands in horror and stare at them as though they were alien to his body. His eyes were ice blue and wide, so wide, the whites showing all around his blue irises, as if he'd seen a ghost.

His eyes shifted to the sheets and a pained grimace flashed across his face. She followed his gaze and her eyes widened at the sight of the blood between her thighs and on the sheets. Fear gripped her, her heart pounding hard with confusion, disbelief, and alarm. She wasn't on her monthlies, so why was she bleeding? Was she bleeding internally? Had he hurt her? She didn't feel like she was injured. Maybe this was normal? She honestly didn't know. Was there something wrong with her?

Her eyes lifted to his. Her chest constricted tightly as she watched his face become as dark as thunder, tension vibrating off him in waves. His fingers curled until his nails were digging into his palms, drawing blood, his hands beginning to shake with his barely restrained emotion, his jaw clenched so tight she could hear his teeth grinding together.

"Cole?" Her voice was hesitant, unsure.

At the sound of her voice, his breath left him in a rush, as if he'd been punched in the gut. He grabbed at the sides of his head, his body hunching over, like it was caving in on itself.

"Cole?" she somehow managed to get out past the thick, tight feeling in her throat. "Can you hear me?"

He looked up at her and everything inside of her solidified to stone. Nothing would ever make her forget the way he looked. His expression… it was agonized, ashamed, regretful, horrified… utterly and devastatingly broken. The shame, guilt, and self-loathing she saw… it ravaged her heart, shredded it.

"Cole?!" Panic coated her voice, the edges sharp. "Talk to me," she ordered urgently. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

She reached for him and he recoiled from her hand as though it were a snake. In a flurry of wisps of smoke and shadows, he disappeared from her bed and appeared in the dark corner of her room in front of her stairs by her balcony doors, as far away from her as he could get.

He stood in the dark corner staring at her, his chest heaving, his face in contortions of misery and despair, eyes filled with an unbearable amount of agony, while his hand clawed at his bare chest right above his heart.

"No. No, no, no, no…" he whispered painfully as he turned away from her, pulling his hands through his shaggy blonde hair before pressing his head into the wall, tightly gripping the back of his neck with both hands.

With her heart in her throat, she forced the words out, "Okay, you're really starting to scare me. Tell me what's wrong, Cole. Talk to me!"

His head turned toward her and when his eyes met hers, she felt her heart crack. His eyes were ice blue and shimmering, and in their depths she saw a never-ending storm of pain no living thing was equipped to bear.

"I-I… I hurt you," he croaked in a voice clogged and hoarse with unimaginable grief, despair, and stark self-loathing.

"It's okay," she quickly assured him, even though she wasn't exactly sure why she was bleeding. "Everything's okay."

A look of such utter agony twisted his features that she feared he was ailing. Horrified at the thought, she shifted to the edge of the bed to go to him, but at the movement his eyes darted around the room like he was looking for an escape.

She froze, a sharp sense of panic lancing through her. Her breathing became erratic as a nameless fear took hold of her, an unease she didn't recognize. "Wait, you're not leaving, are you?" she asked in alarm.

Her heart grew too heavy to hold, because the look on Cole's face said it all. Apology, self-loathing, and regret. That look… it cut her deeper than any blade she'd ever taken. It cut her right down to her very core.

He appeared in front of his clothes that were pilled on the floor. She felt disembodied as she watched him dress with quick, jabbing motions.

Ember's mouth opened and closed ineffectually. She couldn't speak. She tried to react, to move, to stop him. But it was as if her limbs were instantly weighted down with wet cement. She couldn't move. She could feel her blood draining out of her by the nebulous feeling of something great having gone very, very wrong.

Her voice came out thick, "So… you're just going to leave? Just like that? Without talking to me first?" she asked coarsely.

He said nothing as he pulled his tunic on over his head. His expression was inscrutable, his cool detachment significant. He'd been retreating into himself from the moment he'd left the bed.

Look at me, she thought.

Except he didn't, and his withdrawal made her feel… abandoned. It pained her in a way she hadn't expected. He'd been so open with her before. This closing off, this shutting her out, hurt.

The sinking feeling she suddenly felt was excruciating. Ember sat real still in her bed, holding it all in, holding on as the tears warmed her eyes at the sight. She felt like he'd shut down completely and was slipping away from her, and it left a hollowing ache in her gut.

He can't leave me, she thought, barely able to see through her anguish. Please don't leave me, she thought, please don't be leaving.

But he was, and Ember experienced a terrible lowering sense of rejection. Fully dressed, he crossed her room to leave. When he reached her balcony doors she felt desperation settle like a granite block on her insides.

"Please… don't go." She held out her hand in a helpless little gesture of pleading. "Don't leave me. Not now."

He stopped at her balcony doors. He stood stock-still with his back to her. His hands clenched then unclenched at his sides. She heard him exhale sharply before turning to face her with daunting sadness and remorse.

He sucked in a breath and stepped forward, his hand extended in front of him, toward her. In that instant, she felt his otherness as she never had before when she felt a thrum of ancient magic and unfathomable shadow rippling from him, pricking her skin. She gasped because she knew exactly what he was about to do. Disbelief, fear, and anger shot through her, rattling her bones.

"I'll take the hurt away." She saw the roll of his throat as he swallowed before a bright white light glowed from his outstretched hand, and he uttered in a choked voice, "Forge-"

"Don't. You. Dare." Her voice cut through to him like a knife, powerful and fierce. Flames danced across the green fields of her eyes, hardly any blue showing. Her emotions were a tornado of dangerous debris, her breath choked from her lungs. Through gritted teeth, she uttered harshly, "You will not take this away from me."

The glowing light faded from his outstretched hand. After a long pause, his hand slowly fell to his side, his face falling with it, along with his shoulders. The silence that followed crushed her. He stared at her with blue eyes that were wet and shimmering, and a pained look on his face, as if his world was more torn than hers.

A cloud moved in front of the moon outside, letting him become encased in stealthy shadows, the night embracing him. And then, with a gust of wind, the night took him away from her.

Ember stared long after he'd disappeared from her sight, her mind in turmoil. Her first time and it ended with the guy running away from her in fear.

Story of her life.