“Yeah? Well, it all depends on whether or not youwantto make those mistakes, Bell.”
She faces me fully, the fire making one side glow a soft orange and her coiled hair look like a sun-ripened peach. “Why would I want to?”
“Didn’t you ever have your rebellious years when you were young?” I ask. “Sneaking out to get drunk when you knew you shouldn’t? Picking fights even though you knew you weren’t going to win four against one, but instigating it anyway because you wanted to punch something? Fucking someone you knew you were gonna regret, but doing it anyhow because you had an itch to scratch? Some mistakes are just too damned gratifying.”
Rissa snorts and shakes her head, but she doesn’t deny it. “Why does it not surprise me that you’d pick a fight with four men?”
“I didn’t become captain because I shiedawayfrom fights. Or killing.”
“What did you do before you became a captain?”
“I was a mercenary in First Kingdom.”
Her eyes widen.
“Don’t ask questions unless you’re ready to hear what the answers might be,” I tell her. “I killed for coin, and I was good at it. Liked it, even. Does that bother you?”
I watch as she processes what I’ve said, watch as thoughts practically stream across her blue eyes. “Well, some people claim that saddles fucking is just as big a sin as people killing, so I suppose I have no room to judge.”
“The world can judge us all it wants, doesn’t mean we have to give a shit.”
“Eloquent,” she says dryly, though her lips tilt up into an almost smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut. What would she look like if shereallysmiled?
I shouldn’t be thinking questions like that. Which is exactly why I need to keep avoiding her.
“Never said I was a poet.”
Getting to my feet, I leave the cup on the log before straightening up. “Enjoy the fire.” I start walking away to head for my tent, but light footsteps rush after me.
“Why are you leaving?” she asks as soon as she reaches my side.
“It’s getting late. Gotta get up before dawn to start breaking all this shit down again, just like I do every morning.”
I can practically feel how loudly she’s thinking, but it’s not until I reach my tent and stop to turn to her that she drudges up the determination to speak. “I’ve been thinking. I know we’re going to reach Fourth’s capital soon, and...well. You know my plans on leaving, but I thought...”
I’ve never seen her so unsure before, stumbling over her words and looking around nervously.
“You thought...” I prompt.
“Maybe you were right. About making good mistakes.”
I arch a brow but say nothing.
Irritation blooms over her face. “Do I have to spell it out? I want to fuck.”
Her blunt words make me rear back in surprise, and I instantly go hard, my dick pressing against my leather pants.
I cross my arms in front of me. “You don’t know what you really want.”
Her irritation morphs into full-blown anger. “Excuse me? Don’t presume to speak as if you know what I’m thinking. I’m here, aren’t I?Iapproachedyou.”
“Yeah, butyoualso kissedme, and that didn’t stop you from regretting it after. I’m all for actively enjoying some fucking great mistakes, but I’m not interested in regret. That’s something else entirely, and we both know that’s exactly what you’d condemn it as.”
She can’t even deny it. I see it right there on her face, and it fucking guts me. Her stunned silence says it all.
“Thought so,” I tell her as I let out a sigh. “Go back to your tent, Yellow Bell.”
Embarrassed hurt flashes across her features, which feels like a knife digging into my stomach, but I hold my ground.
