The kiss hits like a punch—hot, raw, desperate. There’s no room for careful, no room for gentle. His hands are in my hair, mine drop to clutch at his shoulders, and we’re both shaking, soaked, delirious.
His mouth claims mine, and I let him, opening under the press of his tongue, dragging him closer. I need him under my skin, I need the heat of his body. He’s the only thing keeping me anchored right now, the only thing stopping me from losing all control.
His teeth scrape my bottom lip, and I gasp, holding him tighter, tilting my head, needingmore.
Every inch of him is solid muscle and heat and tension wound tight, trembling against me as his hands slide down to my waist, hauling me flush. I can feel every sharp edge, every scar, every line carved by captivity and survival.
I shouldn’t want this.
But I do. Gods, Ido.
I pour it all into our kiss—fear, exhaustion, fury, relief. All the things I can’t say, all the things I don’t have time to unpack. Right now, it’s just mouths and hands and heat in the dark.
When we finally break apart, I’m gasping, dizzy, my pulse a wild drumbeat in my throat.
Kier leans his forehead to mine, breathless, smiling. “You’re something else, Shadowmist.”
I laugh, shaky and real, and brush his hair back from his face. “Come on,” I whisper, threading my fingers through his. “Before something else tries to kill us.”
Kier flicks on the flashlight and we begin to wade through the thigh-deep icy stream, following the current which tugs at our clothes as we stumble through.
“Underground streams usually lead to some kind of exit,”Kier says, his voice echoing against the wet cave walls. “Hopefully it’ll be somewhere without people trying to burn us alive.”
“Your optimism is inspiring,” I mutter, but I keep my fingers laced through his as we trudge forward.
The tunnel narrows, forcing us to duck our heads. Water sloshes around our thighs, numbing my skin. At least the cold helps with the burns and cuts we’ve collected during our escape. My ribs are aching from the fall, but our days of rest seem to have done their work.
“So,” Kier says after we’ve been walking for several minutes. “We gonna talk about that kiss?”
“Technically there were two,” I mutter.
“True. We gonna talk about thosekisses?”
I nearly stumble on a submerged rock. “You want to discuss our romantic prospects while we’re half-drowned in a cave?”
“I’m a multitasker.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, I figure it’ll be a more interesting conversation than, ‘what did you get up to today, love?’”
I snort. “Is that what you call it? An ‘interesting conversation’?”
“Well, your tongue was doing most of the talking, so you tell me.”
Despite everything, I laugh. “You’re terrible.”
“And yet, you kissed me.” His fingers tighten around mine. “Care to explain that, Beta?”
I consider deflecting again, but what’s the point? We’ve nearly died multiple times. Pride seems like a luxury I can no longer afford.
“I thought we were about to die,” I say finally. “And if I was going to burn alive, I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you first.”
“That matches my thoughts.” He stops to help me over a particularly tight crevice. “And now that we’re not dying?”
I drop into the water on the other side, gasping at the cold. “Now I’m wondering if you’ve always been this annoying or if it’s a new development.”
He chuckles. “You gonna talk about those walls you’ve built? Or should I just pretend I don’t notice them?”
“You gonna talk about your imaginary friends?” I counter.
“Touché.” He goes quiet for a moment. “They weren’t friends, for the record. More like… ghosts. Reminders of all the ways I’d failed.”
