In that strangely elongated moment, I felt the thudding impact and heard the audible crack of glass under its force as I hit the side of the cliff. Panic surged through my arm and the right side of my body as the familiar tendrils of mist coiled free from my pack, slipping through the top.
With a growl of exertion, Lance hauled me upward with such force that we both tumbled back onto solid ground, momentum carrying us. We rolled down a muddy slope, limbs tangled, until the forest caught us in its soft, leaf-strewn embrace.
When we came to a stop—he was on top of me, breath ragged, his hands still gripping my arms. My heart raced as the warmth of his breath washed over my face like a gentle wave, carrying with it an intoxicating mix of adrenaline and something deeper that thrummed in the air between us.
The world around us faded into a blur, and for a fleeting moment, all that existed was the two of us, him straddling me against the backdrop of the woods.
I couldn’t move. Not because I was trapped beneath him, but owing to the way he was looking—orstaring—at me.
“You all right?” His voice was husky with something that wasn’t just concern.
I nodded, unable to find words. He was just… so close. I could feel the heat of him sinking into me, the tension in his body as he remained there, hovering above me like some ancient knight carved in flesh and steel.
“You almost—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.
I felt it too.
The moment.
The shift.
The danger—not from the Invisible Stalker escaping but from something infinitely more intimate.
He didn’t move.
Neither did I.
His eyes flicked down, just briefly, to my mouth. With that look in his eyes, it seemed like he was considering kissing me… Our faces were only inches apart. I could see every fleck of gold in his dark eyes, feel his heartbeat pounding against mine.
A breathless giggle escaped me—light, unmistakably feminine.
A mistake.
Lance stiffened. “That sound…”
His gaze locked onto mine. Confused. Searching.
“Your voice…”
“My voice?” I immediately slipped back into Lioran’s baritone as inwardly, I chided myself for the slip.
He shook his head slowly. "I know it sounds mad, but there is something so entirely feminine about you, Lioran. I… I don't know what to make of it, and it… perplexes me."
His words should’ve terrified me. Instead, they steadied me.
"Feminine?" I repeated, suddenly wishing I could shed my disguise so he could see the truth—so he could see the real me—the woman lurking beneath the guise of the man. Then perhaps…
No, you can't afford to think that way!
Lance's weight pressed against me, his eyes searching mine in a way that burned away all my careful defenses. The forest around us disappeared—there was only his face above mine, those eyes holding questions I couldn't answer.
"You make me feel things," he began again, then swallowed hard.
My pulse thundered. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
“I don’t understand it either,” I whispered, my voice faltering somewhere between Lioran and Guinevere.
His lips were so close I could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with mine.
