The air outside felt hushed, though. Suspended. A soft rain had begun to fall, but it was more of a mist that kissed my hair and skin. The air smelled of ozone and smoke, and Fieran was coming down the steps of the inn toward me.
He would set the last traps for the rip in the morning. There was no reason for me to go with them. I’d heard about the caves, especially last year when a child had entered through a passage near the village and gotten lost. But I was no expert. I’d served ale to the searchers and overheard their stories.
After tonight, I’d never see Fieran again.
I should take my last chance to kiss a dragon shifter.
To be as close as I ever would be to the destiny I’d been denied.
But it was reckless. “Goodnight, Fieran.”
His expression was unreadable, his golden eyes catching every flicker of the lantern flame. If he knew I was dragon-marked, surely this moment of privacy would be when he would confront me. Suddenly I felt foolish for thinking he was going to kiss me.
Maybe even if he had seen, he would mercifully ignore the mark. All the dragon-marked shifters trained from childhood. I was mortal, frail, a mistake. I didn’t belong in their world.
My lips parted, trying to find the words to prevent him from laying my secrets bare.
He cupped my cheek with one big palm, his calloused fingers warm against my skin. The world seemed to fall away as he tipped my face upto his. My breath caught helplessly. His gaze lingered a heartbeat—sharp, searching—as if he was going to ruin me.
Then his lips met mine.
There was nothing tentative about the way he kissed me. His mouth sought mine with a sure press, as if this had always been inevitable.
As if we’d done this a thousand times before.
The taste of him was smoke and heat and the sweetness of spiced wine. His other hand slid to my waist, anchoring me when my knees threatened to give out.
He didn’t ruin my secret. He ruinedme.
His tongue stroked inside my mouth, and my hips swayed toward his recklessly, as if I wanted him pulsing inside me in every way. His hand on my hip was as hot as a brand where his fingers overlapped the curve of my ass. I’d never been so keenly aware of a man, so lost in the sensation of his mouth, his all-consuming attention.
I was breathless when he pulled away. He studied me a moment, that dangerous smile curving his lips.
“Goodnight, little mortal.”
I turned and walked away, feeling self-conscious. I didn’t even remember to protest being calledmortalbefore I was at the turn in the road, the one that would lead me home and block my view back toward the shifters.
I turned and looked back. Their tall, lean figures were silhouetted against the light through the windows. Ander and Fieran, muscular and unmistakable, were deep in conversation.
Tomorrow, the lodging house windows would be empty and dark without them. They’d go, and I’d stay, and that was what I wanted.
It was what Itriedto want.
Twelve
When I woke in the morning, there was something wrong. I could feel it before it made sense to me, and I sat up on my elbow, listening. My heart was already thumping in my chest.
Lidi slept next to me, her arm thrown up over her face. Her breathing was soft and even, her lips parted.
There was a moaning whine down below. Tay, in his sleep. He would’ve held that mewl back if he’d been awake.
I eased out from under the blanket, moving as carefully as I could when I felt so panicky, and climbed down the ladder.
He’d managed to kick his blanket half off. His skin was ash-pale, blue veins sharp, sweat darkening the hair at his temples and the base of his throat. His breaths were uneven, each one a long desperate draw.
“Hey, Tay.” I tried to make my voice light as I touched his forehead. He was hot to the touch, his skin damp. “Good morning.”
His eyes opened, narrow and bloodshot. He tried to smile. “Is it morning?”
