“Laitha,” he said. “Safarian pearls. They act as a dampener of sorts. When you wear them, they limit your ability to sense and manipulate essence.”
“Ah.” I guessthatexplained why I’d been able to go this long without feeling like my skin was going to fall off again. Sure enough, when I reached out and took the pearls in my palm, theshiverin my skin came down to a manageable, evenpleasurablelevel once more. “It helps, thank you.”
“For someone like me, holding a couple of pearls is enough to inhibit me from using any essence at all,” he said. “And it would keep me from sensing most of it, too, except for situations where very large amounts were used. The fact that you can holdsevenand still feel it…” He whistled. “We were right about you, butterfly. But now Laitha knows, too. And she wanted to make sure you wouldn’t use essence against her, which is why she had these tied against your skin when you were bound up. We’re lucky she was so careful, because they’re more useful to you than she realized.”
He wrapped my hand around the pearls, holding my fingers closed over them.
“Until your body is used to essence, these should keep you from being overwhelmed,” he said. “But just as importantly, they will also prevent other people from sensing exactly how powerfulyouare. We’ll be able to travel more discreetly, without attracting attention.”
I had about a bazillion questions. “Do you mean—”
“We can discuss this more later,” he said. “We’ve delayed too long already. We need to go.” He released my hand. “Put those around your neck. The more contact with your skin, the better.”
When I didn’t immediately move, he grabbed them back from my hand, apparently deciding he didn’t trust me enough to do it myself. His hands came around my neck, his fingers brushing against my skin as he tied the ends of the twine together at my nape.
I was suddenly aware of how close his face was to mine, how intimate a position this was, with his arms around my neck and his fingers against my skin. I must have sucked in my breath, or made a small sound, because his forest green eyes snapped to mine.
Almost instantly, another one of those wicked smiles stretched across his lips. His eyes darkened, the pupils dilating as he looked down at me.
“Almost enough to make you forget about Oak?” he said.
I blinked. “What?”
“My brother. Octavian.” He tilted his head down just slightly, bringing his lips ever-so-closer to mine. “I know he kissed you at the masquerade.”
“Oh.” My cheeks blazed.
“I’m less interested inkissing.” That devilish grin widened, and his voice was honey-smooth when he added, “My interest lies in…other things.”
My face got even hotter. I could imagine whatother thingshe meant all too well, and I could tell by that gleam in his eye that he knew exactly what I was thinking.
And then, abruptly, he pulled away, his smile disappearing as his gaze moved to the forest behind me.
“We need to get moving,” he said, cold and dangerous again. Whatever wickedness had been in his thoughts was gone.
Flushed and flustered as I was, the sudden shift in his demeanor left a knot in my stomach. I had a feeling that he’d have been perfectly content to continue flirting with me under different circumstances, but right now, there were more pressing concerns.
“Come on,” he said, heading down to the river’s edge. “Walk just behind me and hold onto my belt. I’ll lead the way across.”
I did as he said, grabbing the back of his belt and following him into the water.
It was freezing. And the current was stronger than it looked, pulling at my legs as I sloshed after Radven. The water came to my knees, then to my waist, but even when Radven’s belt was underwater I still held on, trusting that we’d get to the other side.
When had it become so easy to trust this dangerous man?
When we finally made it to the far bank, my soaked jeans clung uncomfortably to my legs, but Radven had no sympathy for me.
“We keep going,” he said. “We need to reach Far Meadow before dusk.”
He kept a grueling pace after that, and my legs weren’t happy with me—not just because I was wildly out of shape, but also because hauling ass in wet jeans meant major chafing—but we somehow made it to the edge of a valley just as the sunlight was starting to disappear.
“That’s Far Meadow down there,” Radven told me, nodding toward the small village below. We stood at the edge of the forest, gazing down at the valley, and I had to admit it was a pretty little scene—the river curving lazily through fields of crops and sheep pastures, the landscape occasionally dotted with a pond or bushy copse of trees. The village sat nestled in the heart of it all, fewer than two dozen little thatched-roof buildings.
Just like something out ofThrones and Kings, I thought. Hopefully with fewer ogres or evil dragons wanting to burn it all down.
“Wait here,” Radven told me. “Don’t step beyond the trees. And if you hear anything, duck inside this log.”
“Wait, where are you going?” I asked.
