But he didn’t move to pack up. Instead, he crossed to me in three long strides. His hands framed my face, tilting it up to the moonlight. Those storm-colored eyes searched mine with an intensity that stole my breath.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was rough, almost broken.
“I’m fine.” The words nearly stuck in my throat.
“You’re bleeding.”
I blinked, looking down and noting the gash along my ribs where an Obsidian’s claw had apparently torn through a gap in my armor. “It’s a scratch.”
“Keres will patch you up.” His thumb brushed my cheekbone, and the tenderness in the gesture nearly undid me. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
Wrong. We both knew that was wrong. If I’d used myfuryfire to its fullest, those Obsidians wouldn’t have escaped. And doomed us all to whatever army Heliconia would send next.
But standing there with his hands on my face and his body close enough to feel his heartbeat against mine, all I could think was how badly I wanted to close the distance between us. To press my mouth to his and forget everything else—the prophecy, the uncertainty, the impossible choices that lay ahead.
His gaze dropped to my lips. Heat flared in his eyes, dark and wanting.
I swayed forward, gravity and desire pulling me toward him.
“Hate to interrupt.” Slade’s voice shattered the tension like a bucket of ice water. “But we should probably leave before more of those assholes show up for round two.”
Rydian dropped his hand.The loss of contact felt like a physical wound.
“Right.” I stepped back and wrapped my arms around myself. “We should go.”
His jaw worked, but he nodded. “Pack up. We leave in five minutes.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rydian
The Broadlands stretched before us like an open wound, all sun-scorched grass and drought-baked earth. It had been three days since the Obsidians had found us. Three days of hard riding, rationed water, and the knowledge that, somewhere behind us, survivors carried word of Aurelia’s location to the Winter queen.
I watched Aurelia from the corner of my eye as we rode. Always watching. Always aware of the precise distance between us—close enough to reach her if something emerged from the sparse scrub, far enough that I couldn’t see the exact shade of gold in her hair where the sun hit it.
Far enough that I couldn’t do something stupid.
She sat her horse better now than she had at the beginning of our journey. Back straight, hips moving with the animal’s gait in a way that made my cock twitch as I imagined those hips moving against mine. I forced my gaze forward, jaw tight.
This was torture of my own design.
You sent her away,I reminded myself.You lied to her then, and you're lying to her now.
Every hour that passed without telling her the truth about who I was—what I was—drove the blade deeper.
“You’re brooding again,” Amanti said, drawing her horse alongside mine. My aunt looked as tired as I felt, dark circles under her eyes, but her spine remained iron-straight.
“No, I’m not,” I protested.
“Your face gets this particular thundercloud quality.”
“I’m thinking.”
She smirked. “Same thing.” She glanced back at Aurelia, then at me. “You should tell her now. On your terms. It’ll go better coming from you.”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“Your funeral.” But her voice held something softer beneath the words. Sympathy, maybe. Before she’d left for the Aine, Amanti had watched me grow up, had trained me to fight, had kept my secrets for years. She knew better than most what those secrets cost.
