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Think quick X Carrion Swift

MasterList

I’d told myself I would never buy anything from Carrion Swift again.

Unfortunately, Carrion Swift had the one thing I needed and the one thing I couldn’t obtain through any legal channels unless I fancied explaining to a Guardian why I wanted an artefact technically meant to stay in the Seventh Ward.

So here I was. Again.

Zilvaran’s twin suns Bal and Min hung low over the horizon, painting the ward in orange and gold. The streets were quiet. Shadows stretching long behind carts and awnings as businesses wound down. The market smells had thinned, but the tension had not.

And there he was, leaning against the edge of a narrow alleyway as if he’d been born there, arms crossed, grin lazy and infuriating.

Carrion Swift. The bane of my day. The irritation lodged firmly beneath my skin. And apparently my only reliable supplier when I needed something questionable.

“You’re late,” he drawled, tilting his head, Auburn hair glinting under the suns.

“You said meet you ‘whenever.’” I folded my arms with exaggerated patience. “Those were your actual words.”

He clutched his chest. “Gods forbid you listen to the spirit of the instruction rather than the letter.”

“I don’t listen to you full stop.”

“You say that,” he said, pushing away from the wall and sauntering close enough that I could see the stupid flecks in his eyes, “but you keep showing up.”

“This is the last time,” I muttered.

His grin widened, wicked and self-satisfied. “Of course it is.”

I didn’t rise to it. If I did, he’d win, and Carrion Swift winning anything especially my attention was unacceptable.

“Well?” I asked. “Do you have it?”

“Sweetheart,” he purred, “when have I ever let you down?”

I lifted a brow. “Would you like that alphabetically or chronologically?”

He shoved his tongue against his cheek in mock annoyance. “Careful, Y/N. You keep talking like that and someone might think you enjoy this.”

“Enjoy what?”

“Me.”

“Oh please,” I scoffed. “Hand it over.”

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a carefully wrapped bundle, tied with twine, small enough to fit in my palm. Exactly the size I expected.

My breath hitched, just slightly. Not because of him but because this was valuable. Dangerous. Exactly the kind of item Guardians asked inconvenient questions about.

I reached for it.

But Carrion didn’t let go.

His long fingers stayed wrapped around the bundle as he leaned forward just a fraction.

“You know,” he murmured, eyes flicking to mine, “you could at least pretend to be grateful. A little appreciation wouldn’t kill you.”

“You? Appreciating gratitude?” I tugged at the package. “You’d melt into a puddle.”

He leaned closer. “Try me.”

I would have rolled my eyes, but his expression shifted not playful, but suddenly alert.

Too alert.

His hand slid from the parcel straight to my waist.

“Carrion?”

He pushed me back against the wall, body crowding mine, descending smoothly and decisively until his chest pressed to mine.

“What the hell!”

“Stop talking.” His voice was low, urgent. “Guardians.”

My stomach dropped.

“What where?”

“Right behind me,” he muttered without moving his lips. “Coming down the street. If they recognise you, or what you’re holding, they’ll pull us apart and search us both.”

“So move!” I hissed.

“No time.” His breath brushed my cheek. “Let me handle it.”

And then he kissed me.

Or more accurately: he launched into a kiss with such sudden heat that my brain fizzled out like a blown fuse.

His mouth captured mine with shameless intensity, his hand sliding around the back of my neck while the other pressed firmly into my waist. He angled my head, lips moving with infuriating skill, as if this were something we regularly did rather than something I’d sworn on multiple occasions I’d never allow.

I froze for about half a second.

Because then he deepened it.

And my body, the traitorous thing, reacted with a hot rush I absolutely refused to acknowledge.

His fingers skimmed up my side, warm and sure. He pressed closer, and I could feel… everything. The strength, the heat, the way he kissed like he meant to distract not only the Guardians but me.

I dimly registered footsteps. Armour clinking. Voices.

So he wasn’t lying.

He murmured against my mouth, “Make it look real.”

Bastard.

I grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him closer in what was technically a believable show but also...gods help me... satisfying.

A low sound left his throat. Half amusement, half something darker.

The Guardians walked straight past us.

I heard one mutter, “Civilians,” in a bored tone, boots continuing steadily down the street.

Only when they were completely gone did Carrion finally pull back.

Slowly. Too slowly.

His eyes were half-lidded, lips slightly swollen, grin downright indecent.

“Well,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across my cheekbone like he had any right, “that was convincing.”

My hand flew up and smacked his shoulder.

He winced theatrically. “Ow. Violence? After I saved you from a very awkward interrogation?”

“You could have warned me!”

“I did warn you,” he said, tapping his temple. “Just not verbally.”

“You mean you decided to snog me senseless without explanation.”

“Worked though, didn’t it?” He smirked. “Guardians didn’t even look twice.”

I pushed at his chest, even though it unfortunately felt quite solid. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet” he lifted the parcel I’d forgotten I was still holding, brushing his fingers deliberately slow against mine “you didn’t exactly struggle.”

“I was making it look convincing!”

“Of course you were, sweetheart.” His eyes glinted, smug and knowing. “Though if you wanted to kiss me for real, you only had to ask.”

“I hate you.”

“You smell like you enjoyed it.”

My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a velvet-soft whisper. “I can smell your arousal.”

Heat shot through my face. “You can’t!”

“Can and do.” He shrugged. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You... you arrogant... unbelievably...”

He tucked his hands into his pockets, looking far too pleased with himself. “Just saying. If you ever want a repeat performance, I’d be happy to provide professional services.”

“That wasn’t professional!”

“It was very professional on my part,” he said cheerfully. “Did you not notice the technique?”

“Technique!?”

He rocked back on his heels. “Anyway. Pleasure doing business. Truly.”

He turned to leave.

Something in my chest sparked irritation, embarrassment, something much hotter I refused to examine and I snapped, “Carrion!”

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

I swallowed. “You… really didn’t have to do that.”

His expression softened for the barest fraction of a second. Then the grin returned. Wicked. Self-satisfied.

“Oh, I absolutely did,” he said, walking backwards, gaze never leaving mine. “Would you have preferred to be caught buying stolen goods from the Seventh Ward?”

I clenched my teeth.

“And,” he added lightly, “if we’re being honest, I think we both know that wasn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you today.”

He winked

And vanished around the corner.

Leaving me breathless. Infuriated. And absolutely, undeniably aware of the fact that Carrion Swift had just kissed me like he’d been waiting to do it for years.

I hated him. I absolutely hated him.

…didn’t I?

I had done a very good job pretending last night hadn’t happened.

Or so I kept telling myself.

I’d woken up determined to scrub the memory from my mind: the feel of Carrion Swift’s mouth on mine, the way he’d pressed me against a wall like I was something he meant to devour, the way I’d... reacted.

No. Absolutely not. That was a fluke. Circumstantial. Purely survival-based.

And yet every time my lips had brushed my cup that morning, I’d flashed back to his.

I hated myself for it.

I hated him more.

Which became a problem, because the very first thing I saw when I stepped into Kala’s at lunch was his stupid, self-satisfied grin.

He was already there. At my table. With my friends.

Saeris spotted me first and waved me over enthusiastically. “Y/N! Come sit!”

Hayden Fane gave me a polite nod, bright-eyed and annoyingly charming. “We saved you a seat.”

And between them, sprawled out like a king who had claimed territory, was Carrion legs wide, arms draped across the back of the booth, shirt rolled at the forearms, looking like sin incarnate.

Of course.

Of course he had invited himself.

“Oh look,” he said, lifting his glass in salute. “My favourite person.”

“You’re in my seat,” I said flatly.

He patted his thigh. “You can always sit here.”

Hayden choked on his drink. Saeris snorted loudly.

I shot Carrion a murderous glare. “Move.”

“Ask nicely.”

“I will throttle you.”

“Mm.” His grin deepened. “Talk like that and I’ll think you’re flirting.”

I climbed into the seat beside Saeris instead safely across from Carrion. Or, well... as safe as one could be with him in a ten-metre radius.

Saeris nudged me with her elbow. “Why do you look like you’ve swallowed a bug?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just tired.”

Carrion hummed. “She’s embarrassed, that’s all.”

My head snapped toward him. “About what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He tapped his lip thoughtfully. “Maybe about how convincingly she played the part of a woman absolutely desperate to kiss me last night.”

I nearly launched myself over the table.

Saeris choked on her drink. “Wait what?!”

Hayden blinked. “Sorry, what did I miss?”

“You didn’t ‘miss’ anything,” I said, heat crawling up my neck. “He’s being dramatic.”

“Am I?” Carrion rested his chin on his hand, eyes locked with mine. “Funny. I seem to recall someone pulling me closer.”

Hayden leaned forward. “You two… kissed?”

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Carrion said.

I glared. “It was a fake kiss.”

“It included tongue.”

Saeris slapped a hand over her mouth. Hayden raised a brow so high it nearly reached Bal.

“Carrion,” I seethed.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

He smirked, victorious.

I hated him. I hated him so very much.

The conversation moved on to Saeris telling a dramatic story about some customer at her work, Hayden laughing politely, the pub bustling with the late-afternoon crowd. But every few minutes, Carrion would shoot me a look across the table. A knowing one. A wicked one. As if he could still taste me.

The worst part? My stomach flipped every time he did.

I ignored him. Successfully. For a while.

Until Hayden leaned across the table toward me, eyes warm. “Hey are you coming to the market festival tomorrow? Saeris and I are going, if you’d like to join us.”

“That sounds...”

“She’s busy,” Carrion interrupted, taking a slow sip of his drink.

I snapped my head toward him. “No, I’m not.”

“You are now.”

Hayden blinked. “Why? Do you two have plans?”

Carrion smiled. “We might.”

“We do not.”

“We could,” he offered, that teasing tilt in his voice. “Unless you’d rather go on a date with Golden Boy over here.”

Hayden flushed slightly. “I didn’t say date, I just...”

“She’s not going,” Carrion repeated.

Something in his tone low, edged made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

Possessive. Jealous.

I should not have liked that. I absolutely should not have liked that.

But gods help me, I did.

I crossed my arms. “Carrion, you don’t get to decide what I do.”

“No?” His eyebrow lifted. “Seemed perfectly happy letting me make decisions last night.”

My breath caught.

Saeris mouthed oh my gods at me.

I kicked him under the table.

He winced, then leaned back with a low laugh. “Feisty.”

The conversation grew lively again, though I barely contributed. My awareness of Carrion was a constant hum the way his fingers tapped on his glass, the lazy sprawl of his legs, the way he seemed perfectly comfortable in a place he had not been invited to.

Eventually, Saeris excused herself for the bathroom, Hayden following to pay his tab.

Which left me alone with him.

Or rather trapped with him.

He watched me for a moment, expression unreadable.

Then he spoke quietly. “You’re annoyed.”

I scoffed. “Of course I’m annoyed. You’re here.”

“Funny,” he said. “Your pulse says otherwise.”

I clenched my teeth. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” A slow smirk formed. “Observing?”

“Lying.”

“I don’t lie to you,” he said softly. “Tease you? Absolutely. Provoke you? Enthusiastically. But lie? No.”

I swallowed hard. “You think you know everything.”

“No.” He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. “Not everything.” A beat. “But I know how you looked last night when I kissed you.”

Heat shot through me.

“And I know,” he murmured, pupils darkening, “that you wanted more.”

I hated that my breath hitched. “You’re delusional.”

His smile sharpened. “Prove me wrong.”

Before I could form a retort, Hayden returned cheerful as ever and Carrion immediately stiffened.

Hayden slid into his seat beside me, offering a warm smile. “So, Y/N… about that festival...”

I didn’t get to answer.

Because Carrion stood.

Abruptly.

He muttered, “I’m getting another drink,” and stalked off, jaw tight. Not playful. Not teasing.

Jealous.

Hayden didn’t seem to notice. “Anyway, as I was saying...”

But I couldn’t listen. Because Carrion was at the bar, both hands braced on the counter, breathing like he was trying to steady himself.

Something inside me twisted.

Despite every warning bell ringing in my skull, I excused myself and followed him.

He didn’t look up when I approached. Just said tightly, “Go back to your little suitor.”

“He’s not...”

“He wants you.” His voice was a quiet snarl. “He’s been eyeing you all afternoon.”

“So what if he has?” I challenged. “What business is it of yours?”

That made him turn.

Slowly.

His eyes were bright, sharp, burning.

“It’s my business,” he said, stepping closer, “when someone else thinks they can touch what’s mine.”

My breath stopped. “I’m not yours.”

“You sure?” he murmured, crowding me backward until my spine brushed the wall. “Because you smell like mine.”

“Carrion”

“And you kissed me back like mine.”

“That was...”

“And you’re here,” he added, voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper, “chasing after me instead of staying with him.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Nothing came out.

He exhaled, frustrated. “This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t...” He cut himself off. Scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t care this much.”

“Why do you?” The words escaped before I could stop them.

He met my eyes.

And for once for the briefest moment there was no grin, no arrogance, no teasing.

“Because,” he said quietly, “I do.”

Something in my chest flipped violently.

Before I could respond, he shook his head, muttering something under his breath, and strode toward the door, pushing out into the bright twilight beyond Kala’s.

I hesitated one heartbeat. Two.

Then I followed him.

He was just outside, pacing slightly, jaw clenched.

“You can’t just walk out,” I said.

“I had to.” He stopped pacing and faced me. “Before I did something stupid.”

I stepped closer. “Like what?”

His eyes dragged over me, hungry, furious, wanting.

“Like this.”

His hand slid to my waist, pulling me flush against him, and his mouth crashed onto mine.

Heat detonated between us.

I gasped against his lips, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss immediately possessive, frustrated, starved. His hand splayed across the small of my back, pulling me impossibly closer, while the other cupped my jaw, angling my head exactly how he wanted.

I made a sound I hoped he hadn’t heard. He definitely heard it.

He pressed me back against the wall outside the pub, kissing me like he’d been holding himself back for days... weeks maybe even years.

He dragged his mouth to my throat for a second, breathing hard. “You drive me insane.”

I grabbed his shirt, pulling him back to my lips. “Good.”

He groaned and kissed me harder, teeth grazing my bottom lip, tongue brushing mine with maddening precision.

His touch was everywhere firm hands sliding over my hips, fingers gripping, exploring, learning me. My legs felt weak. My thoughts dissolved. I was fire and heat and everything he wanted me to be.

I broke the kiss only long enough to gasp, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughed softly against my mouth. “Liar.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair. “Shut up.”

He kissed me again, slower this time deliberate, sensual and murmured against my lips, “Tell me to stop.”

I couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Instead, I whispered, “Carrion…”

His breath caught. “Say it again.”

“Carrion.”

He made a low, pleased noise, lips brushing mine. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

I absolutely did.

And gods, I wanted more.

But then laughter spilled from Kala’s doorway people leaving and Carrion pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, breath unsteady.