Shayde cracked one eye. “I bite.”
“I bite harder,” I shot back, every word dripping venom.
We stared each other down across the fire for a long, unblinking beat before Shayde groaned and dragged himself over. I scooted to the very edge of the roll and lifted the flap behind me.
“Back to back,” I muttered. “I don’t want your face to be the first thing I see when I wake up.”
He kicked off his boots and wedged in beside me, claiming every scrap of space the narrow bedroll allowed. Heat poured in the instant his cloak brushed mine, and I nearly moaned at the relief—but bit the inside of my cheek instead.
“Feeling’s mutual,” he grumbled.
The stitching strained under two bodies wrapped in thick leathers and fur-lined cloaks. But once we stopped fidgeting, the warmth settled deep, bone-heavy and irresistible. His breathing slowed, steady and even, just as my eyelids finally gave in.
Within seconds, I was asleep.
Chapter 42
“She sounds so… lonely,” I murmured, flipping to the next page.
“I still can’t get over the mention of a kingdom.” Rhodes idly twisted a lock of my hair around his finger. “And you haven’t seen any hints of a time period yet?”
I shook my head as my eyes skimmed the page. We’d agreed not to transcribe any of this history, worried it might land in the wrong hands. The handwriting was elegant and curling—clearly from another era. I had to read each line more than once to decipher Kiye’s words, piecing the meaning bit by bit. Her world felt so different from ours, and so far there’d been no mention of the Mareki.
I felt protective of her story in a way I didn’t expect. She had hidden these words with magic—revealed only to the right eyes, at the right time. Arrow Fitzroy would be waiting to extract every secret from this journal, but something told me the author hadn’t gone to such lengths without purpose.
Rain began to patter softly on the metal roof of Rhodes’s treehouse. I flinched at the sound, and his arm tightened around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
Lowering the journal, I glanced at the window, brow furrowed. I slipped out from under the warm sheets and padded across the floor. My awed reflection appeared in the glass as I traced a finger through the shimmering, purple-iridescent raindrops before they vanished, replaced by new ones falling steadily.
Heat pressed against my back as Rhodes joined me, wrapping his arms firmly around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. His hold made the hem of the oversized t-shirt ride up my thighs, sending chill bumps racing over my skin.
After we’d returned from the secluded pond, we ran into Davis and Tatum at the base of the treehouse. Rhodes had offered to bunk with Davis in Shayde’s hut so Tatum and I could have this one to ourselves—but Tatum had delightedly declined.
I’d never forget the wolfish grin on Davis’s face or the way his cheeks flushed when Tatum grabbed his hand and started climbing the rope ladder without hesitation.
That left Rhodes’s tree hut to just the two of us. The first thing I did to overstay my welcome was rummage through his drawers for one of his casual shirts—something I knew would fit me like a nightgown. When I pulled it on, his gray-blue eyes darkened as he watched from the doorway, visibly tense.
Now he was curled around me as I watched the night sky spill purple rain across the glass.
“Even the rain here is full of magic,” I breathed.
“There’s magic in the air. It’s everywhere.”
Without waiting, I walked barefoot onto the deck. Cool, iridescent raindrops fell onto my upturned face as I stared at thenight sky. For a moment I felt like a child again, spinning in slow circles with my arms spread wide, letting the enchanted rain soak me. I could sense Rhodes leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching.
“I don’t remember the last time I smiled standing in the rain,” I said softly, my voice catching. The backs of my eyes burned, so I squeezed them shut against the sting. “I… I don’t know why it had to be me, walking this path. For so long, I was so angry. It always felt like I was the one who had to bear the pain. Who lost the people or the things that brought me joy. But…” I swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t change it. Not a second of it. Because everything I’ve survived—every terrible thing—led me here.”
I let out a slow breath, years of tension easing from my chest, carried away with the gentle fall of the rain. When I opened my eyes, I laughed—soft and breathless—at the sudden realization that it no longer felt like a heavy blanket was pressed over my face. My breath came freely now. My lungs didn’t have to fight anymore.
And I laughed again, because I couldn’t even pinpoint the moment the blanket had been lifted.
“Maybe your path has been harder because your calling is higher.”
My breath caught as my gaze snapped to Rhodes. The rain had drifted sideways just enough to dampen his bare chest, droplets trickling slowly down to the waistband of his thin black sleep pants. He shook his head sharply, flinging messy hair from his eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, lips pursed in mock warning.
“Like what?”
