“Why not?”
“Because they don’t work out.” I picked at a thread on my sleeve. “Not for me.”
He smoldered. “I am not Vaeris.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But we’re riding toward an army that wants you dead, and I can’t…if I let myself believe, and then you’re gone?—”
“Aelie.”
“I can’t think about it.”
He caught my chin, forcing our gazes to crash. “I’m not dying in Skalgard.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can. Because I haven’t taken you to those waterfalls yet, and I’m a stubborn bastard who finishes what he starts.”
A laugh escaped me. “That’s not how it works.”
“I will be fine.”
His thumb brushed my jaw, and then his hand slid to my neck as I leaned forward, tilting my head?—
A shout tore through the camp.
We broke apart, breathing hard.
“Intruder!”
Two warriors burst from the trees, hauling a male in blued steel. His eyes were wild, frantic.
“Scout,” Torvin spat. “He was watching us.”
The scout’s gaze darted frantically until it landed on me.
Kairos’s mist surged violently. “Bring him to me.”
52
THE CITY
They dragged the scout to Kairos.
When they dropped him, he stayed where he collapsed, blood sliding down from a gash above his brow. Then Kairos strode forward, and a tense silence fell on the camp.
A familiar chill crept down my spine.
When I was a girl, my mother would shield my eyes when the executioner emerged on the platform. He was terrifying—that ratty cloak hanging from his massive frame, his hood casting everything in shadow except the cruel line of his mouth.
When he walked into the Square, dread rolled through the crowd like his mist. I could still feel it—the sick anticipation that something terrible was about to happen, and no one could stop it. That same heaviness filled my lungs. I wasn’t afraid of Kairos anymore, but I still feared what he could do.
Kairos stared down at the male.
The scout inched backward, his bound hands scrabbling at the ground as he breathed in broken sobs. Kairos stepped closer, and the scout flinchedviolently.
“Look at me,” Kairos said quietly.
The male lifted his head, moaning.
