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.Ah, but her mouth was lovely.No matter his love for Abez, he prided himself on being a man who appreciated the fairer sex.And only the thought of that love steadied his conscience and kept his hand from snatching back the unholy offer.She had not lifted her gaze from his gift."What is it?"He raised the packet to his nose and inhaled the cloying sweet scent "I think we both know.""How?" Her breath was coming fast now.So very close."Don't ask, my dear," he whispered, pushing the pods into her hands."It's yours."She sat on the second pew in the cathedral for hours.Brothers came and went, praying, lighting candles, exchanging quiet instructions.Two young novices swept the central aisle, silent in their work.No one bothered Ada.She only noticed them as a buzz of insects behind her thoughts.The poppy pods pressed as heavy as lead in her hands.She had not even opened the linen wrap, but their scent—more pungent than smoke, dust, and the smell of cathedral's sun-baked stones— wove into her nose, tapping deeper memories.Freedom.She had spent the better part of a week contemplating her future, one that involved selling Daniel's scrolls and indulging once again, but now the moment was at hand.And she did not know what to do.She should fling temptation away like so much refuse and clutch her temperance with both hands.But the poppies waited.They called to her.She stood and quickly left the cathedral.Gavriel would help.They had parted on poor terms that morning in the weapons hall, but he would not turn away her pleas on this score.None of their hard work—his hard work and her suffering—would be sacrificed.She only had to ask for his aid, her pride an easy victim to the fear of falling again.Breath burned hot in her throat, and her pulse pumped" as quickly as her legs.Running.Through the maze of the monastery, the corridors repeated the sound of her boots slapping the flagstones.Two canonesses wearing matched habits and censorious looks pushed against a wall to avoid her.And with every step, Ada could have flung away the poppies.She would, just as soon as Gavriel told her to.Outside his chambers, she pressed her forehead against the wood and breathed.The erratic beat of her body would not be stilled.He would see her as a crazy woman at his threshold, hair whipped free of her headdress and eyes wild with need and fear.He would see her, this humiliating vulnerability, and he would not fail her.He could not.She knocked with her good hand and cradled the pods with the other.Waiting, panting, she heard a smack.Then another, like me slap of reins against a horse's neck.A third sent shivers up her back.His back „ "Gavriel?"She pounded the door this time, both hands, not caring about the pain shooting between her raw knuckles.A few kicks later and she shouted his name again, her face aflame.Frustration pinched at her temples.She placed the poppies on the ground and tried the handle, flying two steps forward when the door opened.Gavriel knelt wearing only breeches, his back to the door.Illuminated by a single tallow candle, he bowed his head low.Long streaks of flayed flesh angled from his right shoulder to his left hip.Rivulets of blood trickled down, nearly black in that pale light.Slightly older wounds, covered in scabs, crossed the opposite direction, the remnants of another recent torture session.He raised his arm and flogged himself again, apparently oblivious to her presence.The metal-tipped leather bit his skin once more, opening another furrow of flesh.His whole body convulsed around that pain but he made no sound.The arm may as well have been that of another man for how little mercy he showed.Every strike was more shattering, more powerful than the one before.The lash pulled a chain of whimpers from her throat.She covered her mouth.Tears rained over her fingers until she could stand no more."Stop!"She rushed to him and grabbed the handle of the flogger.Even taking him by surprise, she was no match for his speed and strength.Gavriel shot to his feet and flung her away.She landed with a grunt against the wall.He stood over her, his handsome face contorted into a grotesque mask."Why are you here?"She recoiled from his thunderous voice and smacked her head against the stone wall.Her every reason for coming to him had vanished into vapors of fear and shock."I—I.""Come to stare, inglesa?" He sneered and hefted the grim leather flogger, displaying it for her."Come to see what punishment I endure for having kissed you?"Her heart twisted."This is because of our kiss?"Blood dripped from the steel tips to the ground, dotting the floor."Because I must make my body obey.My body—or you
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