I will never let you fall.
His words from the Temple roof just before we walked out onto the parapet to touch the bells.
I will never let you fall.
And he never had.
Suddenly, he lifted me toward the nearest branch. I gasped and wrapped my arms around it like I was a hundred feet in the air, not ten.
His hands slid under my ass and pushed. My cheeks burned as I flailed my legs around the branch like I was mounting Ozlow.
The branch didn’t even creak with my weight. It was thicker than Aiden and I combined, but I still sank my nails into it like a cat as I glared down at Aiden.
“A warning would’ve been nice,” I said.
He grinned up at me, erasing my glare. “Perhaps I just wanted to hear that sweet gasp you make.”
My skin now felt like a wildfire was coursing over it. “Am I to pick the fruit for us or?—”
“Shift forward,” he commanded.
Inner thighs trembling, I inched farther out onto the branch. “I still don’t know how?—”
Aiden backed up a few steps, then charged at the tree. I gaped as heran upthe trunk and grabbed my branch, swinging himself up on it.
He chuckled low and deep at the dumbfounded look on my face.
“Teach me that,” I breathed.
He shook his head. “I like our way better.”
I huffed and made a show of looking around my perch. I spotted a few moonbloods dangling overhead. I could reach them if I scooted further forward.
Jaw tight with determination, I stretched my arm as far as I could, my fingertips brushing the soft skin of the fruit.
Just a little bit . . . more . . .
Ilunged, swiping at the fruit, and started tipping sideways off the tree. Before I could cry out, a powerful arm banded around my waist, anchoring me to the branch.
“So eager to test my promise?” Aiden murmured in my ear.
I scoffed like my hands weren’t desperately curled around his arm. “How about you grab one, then?”
His arm slipped from my grasp as he stood up. He plucked one of the moonbloods. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“Are you speaking to the tree?”
He sat down behind me again and drew back to lean against the trunk. He patted the bark in front of him.
Palms growing sweaty, I twisted around and crawled over to him. We sat facing each other, our knees and boots brushing together.
“Yes,” he said. “When I was younger, I believed the trees were always dancing and whispering to each other. That they growled and creaked when danger was about. Moaned when they were sad.” He looked down at the white fruit in his hand. “I always try to treat them well, and they treat me well in return.”
I smiled, imagining a dark-headed boy with forest-green eyes whispering back to the trees. “Viridana must love you.”
He shrugged. “These woods have given me a lot. There’s no harm in being thankful, whether it was by her will or not. The legend says the goddess bled a few drops into the earth under a full moon and one of these trees sprouted on the spot.”
I thought of the knife made of dead night sky in my boot. Of the fireflowers that burned on Arduen’s Mountain. “I like having pieces of them with their stories. Makes them feel more real.”
