The words stick in my chest. I don’t even know what he means, but somehow, I do.
The street stretches endlessly, the hum of the engine steady beneath me, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face under the mask. For the first time, maybe ever, I feel like I’m truly living—not just surviving.
Fifteen minutes pass in a blur of lights, wind, and heartbeat, and by the time we finally slow to a stop, I feel lighter. The city is quiet around us, and when I lift my visor, breathing in deeply, the night tastes sweeter than anything I’ve known.
He turns to face me, his visor flipped up as well. “I’ll drive slower along the coast,” he says, voice low. “Then I’ll take you back.”
There’s a pause—the kind that hangs heavy, full of choices I’m not brave enough to make.
He’s waiting for me to sayyes, take me back.
I should. I know I should. Enzo, Elijah, and Gen are probably looking for me.
But my heart is still in my throat, and for the first time in my life, I don’t want to be the good girl who does what she’s told.
“I’m not ready to go back,” I whisper.
He exhales a quiet laugh. “Didn’t think you would be.”
And when my hands find his torso again, it doesn’t feel reckless anymore.
It feels inevitable.
* * *
We slow to a stop at a dark cliff overlooking Vostralya. I feel my hands begin to sweat as I’m reminded that I don’t know his name, I don’t even know what he looks like. And I’m not going to, it’s dark, and the only light disappears when he turns his bike off.
He holds out a hand, and even though I’m enthralled by the gorgeous scenery we spent the last ten minutes driving by, I can’t ignore how vulnerable I am in this moment. I keep my hands to my lap, my eyes locked on his, filled with nothing but fear.
“I… I…”
He pulls off his helmet. “I can’t see you either, Aurelia.”
Neither of us moves. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it back in that alley.”
I take a deep breath, realizing he’s right, and take his hand as I step off the bike.
Thank God he can’t see me—I’m pretty sure I’ve been flashing him my thong all night. I tug my dress down, and when I go to pull off my helmet, his hands slide over mine and lift it away for me.
Even without sight, I feel nothing but connection in the simplest movements. And for the first time, I realize I haven’t thought of Elijah since being with him. I’m not thinking of his face, his body, or his mind. Instead, I’m thinking of the shadow boy in front of me, of my safety and why I don’t feel in danger when I should.
“You shouldn’t be out here with me,” he says finally.
Oh.
Well there goes that safety thing I was just feeling.
“I… I thought you said I was safe?” I whisper, pulling at the hem of my dress.
I know I can’t see it but I think he’s smiling when he mutters, “You are safe.” Then after a moment of silence, “But you’re too young. Too soft. Too… good.”
“Good?” I echo, teasing lightly. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” he says, raising his hand to my face, tucking a strand behind my ear. “You still think people mean what they say. That’s rare, and something only a good girl would do.”
I cross my arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not. It just doesn’t last.”
