“Me and every other girl in Ember Reach.” Rynna laughed, grabbing her own towel. “Poor Calli will never recover.”
“She’ll be fine,” Elara replied with a roll of her eyes. “If she stopped worrying about me for five seconds, she’d realize how much attention she actually gets. Besides, she’s been completely buried in far-seer training ever since her father got back from Gale Reach four months ago.”
“Huh.” Rynna stepped into the changing room, the floor cool under her feet. “I was wondering where she’d been.”
Elara opened her mouth to respond, but the loud thudding of knuckles on the door cut her off, followed by Bran’s thunderous voice. “Hurry up! We’re starving! Why do girls take so long?”
“If you’re so hungry, Bran, maybe we should leave some steamed veggies out to see how long it takes you to starve,” Elara called, not missing a beat.
Rynna chuckled as she quickly dried off, the soft cloth sweeping over her skin before she slipped into the loose folds of her Hollow-born uniform. “Isn’t he always the one running late?”
“Not when there’s food involved,” Elara replied, pulling on her own clothes. “He makes me look demure if beef steak is on the line.”
Rynna’s mouth twitched into a smile as a brief, amused laugh slipped out. “True.”
Without wasting any more time, they finished getting dressed and hurried out.
“It’s about time—” Bran began, but his words were cut short as Elara slammed her palm into his chest, sending him stumbling back into the wall around the bathing area.
“Thanks for waiting for us,” she said sweetly to Fenn, before brushing past them with a smug smile.
“Hey!” Bran protested, rubbing his chest as he hurried after her. “Since when do healers hurt people?”
“Since they got too annoying,” Elara shot back over her shoulder, picking up the pace. “It’s in the healer's code.”
“No, it’s not!” Bran chased after her, their bickering echoing down the path.
Fenn scratched the back of his head, watching them vanish. “Should I be concerned?”
“Only if you’re paying for dinner.” Taren glanced sideways at the retreating figures. “Do you want me to go after them?”
Fenn thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, let them have their fill. They earned it on this mission.” He glanced at Taren and Rynna, his tone softening. “You all did.”
“Thank you, Guide.” Taren bowed, but his eyes flicked toward the path, betraying his desire to catch up with the others.
Fenn caught the look and nodded toward the glowing lights of the dining hall. “Go on. Just make sure they save us some seats.”
“Thank you, Guide.” Taren bowed again and took off down the path.
Rynna watched him go. “He’s been a lot better lately, more engaged.”
“You all have been good for him,” Fenn said, his gaze lingering on Rynna. “Though he seems most interested when you’re training them.” He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curving up. “Should I be jealous?”
“I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about,” Rynna replied, bumping her hip lightly into his, her earlier conversation with Elara briefly crossing her mind. “But I will say this. He easily grasps concepts that others struggle with. It comes naturally to him.”
She was about to go on or start walking when his hand shot out, strong arms wrapping around her waist. Lifting her effortlessly, their bodies collided in a rush of heat and energy as the world narrowed to the press of his body and the teasing smile in his eyes.
“Fenn!” she yelped as hands slid to her lower back, pulling her even closer.
“Just in case,” he murmured, pulling down his mask, revealing a wicked, wolfish grin beneath.
Then, he kissed her right there in the yard, deep, commanding, and entirely unexpected.
Limbs locking in place, Rynna’s heart jumped into her throat. They were always so discreet.
But the shock didn’t last long as she relaxed into his arms, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, fingers curling into the loose strands of his damp hair. Her pulse raced as his lips moved against hers, and everything else faded away. It was just them.
As the kiss broke, Rynna let herself sink, hands gliding down his sides as she slid slowly down the length of him, until her feet found the ground again. Still, she held his gaze—unblinking, unwavering—as his fingers traced the curve of her hip in a slow sweep that lingered at the dip of her waist.
