“Like you’re thinking about pairing that shirt with its matching pants—on the floor.”
I lifted a shoulder in an exaggerated shrug.
He raised a brow, eyes darkening as his tongue swept slowly over his bottom lip. “Because watching you stand there in my shirt, twirling in the ethereal rain and smiling… let’s just say you look like a goddess. And I’m long overdue for a moment of worship.”
“Is that right?” I tossed one of his lines back at him.
That earned me both dimples.
“Come closer and find out.”
I moved toward him slowly. Rhodes backed up into the tree hut, eyes locked on me, and let me in. I closed the door behind us, turning the lock. Shadows danced over his sharp features.
He didn’t wait. He pulled me in, one hand wrapping firmly around my nape, and crashed his mouth onto mine in a heart-stopping, searing kiss.
When I finally tore back, breath ragged, I kept my lips grazing his. “A harbinger of your end, or a goddess? You seem unsure,” I murmured, tauntingly soft. “Because I thought worship was done on your knees.”
He exhaled hard, breath warm and uneven on my lips. A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth as he shook his head. “Oh, my thorn,” he rasped. “You brought me to my knees long before I knew you were my downfall.”
I brushed my lips along his jaw. “And what if worshipping your damnation ruins you?”
He let out a ragged, broken laugh that was more growl than laugh. “Then ruin me, baby.”
Chapter 43
“Are you two still alive?”
Themarekemjolted me from a dreamless sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut and nestled deeper into the warmth before responding.
“Alive and well.”
That’s when the scent of citrus and bergamot hit me.
My eyes flew open. I jerked back instinctively—only to realize that, at some point during the night, I’d flipped over and curled myself against Shayde’s back like some clingy little heat leech.
He was still fast asleep, chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths as I scrambled out of the bedroll, tripping over my cloak and landing in a graceless heap on the cavern floor.
Shayde stirred at the noise. His head lifted, eyes scanning the cavern. Then he spotted me, now trying far too hard to look casual while tugging on my boots. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, rubbed them lazily, and pushed himself upright.
I cleared my throat. “Rise and shine, Snake. We’ve got to get moving.”
Within ten minutes we’d packed up camp and climbed out of the cavern. Shayde and I resumed our trek through the snowyforest—this time with the sun breaking through the clouds overhead. I wrapped my balaclava around my face, just in case we stumbled across any Tyrians.
We know their stronghold is somewhere in central Tyria, but we still aren’t sure how close it is to the Barrens. So, we’ll keep moving until we find a small enough village that won’t raise suspicion, and start looking for clues from there.
After almost a full day of walking west, I finally spotted a thin line of smoke curling through the forest canopy. As we drew closer, we stumbled upon a small town with a bustling center square—children laughing as they ran about, their canine companions nipping at their heels.
The buildings reminded me of those in the Barrens, though these showed more signs of care. Dark brick walls stood weathered but intact, overgrown with dead vines and weeds. Wooden shutters hung crooked on their hinges, some barely clinging to the frames. Signs dangled over several doorways, marking shops or taverns, while narrow paths veered away from the square toward cabins tucked deeper into the woods.
Shayde and I stayed hidden in the trees for a while, watching for any sign of Tyrian troops or leadership. After a careful survey and a silent agreement, we decided it looked safe enough to approach.
I checked my balaclava to make sure it was secure, hoping it passed as a normal accessory in the cold. We stepped into the tavern and were greeted by kind smiles from the barkeep and servers.
We slid into a booth in the far corner, backs to the wall, eyes scanning the room. When the waitress approached, asking if wewere ready to order, we both nodded in unison and opted for the only item on the menu.
She returned with two bowls of mysterious stew just as a family of four entered the tavern and settled a few tables down. The parents placed their order while the two children chose chaos—running circles around the tavern with squeals of laughter. Their mother looked mildly exasperated, but the smile tugging at her lips never faltered as she watched them roam.
I lifted a spoonful of stew to my lips, blowing gently on the steam, trying not to think too hard about what might actually be in it.
