She lays her hand on his chest and gazes up into his eyes. She looks terrified. Vulnerable. Redness stains hercheeks from her tears earlier, but it only makes him love her more.
“I-I do trust you, Cerian. So if you think we should leave the train...” Her voice trails off as she searches his eyes.
At least she trusts him. That’s a relief.
It may be unwise, but he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. “I don’t know if we should leave the train or not.”
“I love when you’re warm,” she whispers, and as he lets more of his heat blanket her, she sighs contentedly.
Does his embrace really calm her fears so completely?
“What would Elowyn do?” Arisanna asks, and Cerian chuckles.
“She would have already left the train.”
Arisanna lifts her chin to gaze up at his face. “Then let’s leave the train. For Elowyn.”
Her words touch a deep recess of his heart, and he squeezes her tighter as she rests her cheek against his chest again.
“You don’t think we’re in any real danger in the heartlanding, do you?” she asks.
“According to Elowyn, you can die in the heartlanding and still live.”
Arisanna snaps her eyes to his again. “She knows that from experience? What sort of heartlanding do they have?”
A smile teases the corners of his lips, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“I have so many questions now.”
“Questions they’ll never be able to answer.”
Her breath tickles his chin as she stands in his arms. Her nearness prods his fire magic again, and the longer they gaze into each other’s eyes, the more her own heat shines back at him.
“Are you ready?” He needs to focus on something other than how much he wants to get lost in that fire in her eyes.
“To get off the train?” Her voice is tremulous, and he barely nods. “Promise you won’t let go?” she whispers.
“Do you even need to ask?”
Rather than respond, she gently presses her lips to his. It’s torture and perfection wrapped up together.
When she lets him go, he offers his hand again, and she takes it, wrapping herself around his arm as his palms start to tingle.
Whistling wind. Hopefully, there’s water somewhere in that void.
Together, they step through the open doorway as he leads the way with her following at his side. Instead of throwing out orbs of golden light, he creates more fire in his free hand. If he doesn’t let off some of this heat, he’ll soon grow too hot for her to touch.
And he promised not to let go.
Tentatively, he lowers his foot past the last step of the train stairs. Relief fills him when it connects with the ground, but it’s not rock or solid wood. Peat or loose dirt, perhaps? What sort of place is this?
“Watch your step,” he says as she finds her footing beside him.
As soon as they lose contact with the train, the bright, open doorway behind them vanishes, and Arisanna gasps, her fingernails digging into his arm again.
“You’re safe,” Cerian assures her. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”
She nods against his arm, but her heart races in his chest, her pulse thrumming in his ears.
