“Gods, Alistair, spit it out,” Ciprian snaps. “What was the problem?”
“I didn’t like how he looked at you, okay?”
My angry declaration is met with complete silence, because of course Ciprian only lets me have the last word when I don’t want it. He stares at me without blinking, only glancing away when Riven reaches the top of the cliff and hoists himself over the lip.
I resist the urge to shove him off. It would be satisfying, but it would create a host of other problems. Problems we aren’t equipped to deal with.Gods, I miss the Fringes.
Riven rubs his hands together briskly. “I’m going to watch from that corner. You two monitor the valley and stay out of sight. We’ll leave in one hour.”
“You’re going to take the witch rock with you?” I scoff. “I don’t think so. Hand it over.”
“You think I’ll leave you here to freeze.”
I nod and tug the pocket of my sweatshirt open. “Then tell Celine we were ambushed and there was nothing you could do.”
Riven shakes his head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re paranoid?”
“Daily,” Ciprian mutters. “But I agree with him this time. Give us a sign of good faith.”
Riven pulls a cloth from his pocket and places it carefully in mine. “Don’t let it touch your skin by accident.”
I grit my teeth. “I’m not an idiot.”
He snorts, then strides away, his long legs making quick work of the icy ledge. By the time he reaches his chosen vantage point, he’s nothing more than a mottled gray dot on the craggy cliff.
“What do you think?” Ciprian asks. “Change of heart or nefarious plot?”
“I can’t tell.” I sound as frustrated as I feel.
Ciprian shakes his head. “It’s not on you to figure him out, Alistair. We’re a team.”
“I know,” I snap, using my boots to brush ice pellets away from the rock. The accumulation is patchier up here, unable to stick for long because of the nonstop wind. Once I’ve cleared the ground in front of us, I drop to my belly and focus on the valley below.
Ciprian settles beside me, quiet for once. The silence isn’t comfortable. Not anymore. It hasn’t been comfortable since I learned his last name.
“Are you warm enough?” I ask, then kick myself for voicing the worry.
Ciprian laughs. “I’m freezing my nuts off, actually. How about you?”
“Same,” I mutter.
“Why do you ask?” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Do you want to cuddle?” Without even looking, I can tell he’s rolling his eyes.
He’s such a brat. The attitude. The prickly bullshit. If Celine isn’t around, he makes zero effort to get along with me. It pisses me off enough that I stop caring what he thinks and toss my arm around his shoulders.
“Yeah, I do,” I say cheerily. “Thanks for offering.”
He’s rigid against my side—obviously annoyed. I bask in satisfaction for a minute, maybe two, then the frustration returns. How can I fix things if he won’t let me?
“Will you ever forgive me, or am I wasting my time?”Pathetic.I put my pride in a headlock while I wait for him to respond. As the silence stretches, my skin crawls. I want... Gods, I don’t know. To take it back or roll myself off the cliff. Anything to break the tension.
“It depends,” Ciprian says. “Are you going to come clean and tell me who your source was?” I stiffen, and he shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“I can’t reveal my source,” I hiss. “It would put my business at risk. This is hypocritical, Ciprian, and you know it. You don’t run around spilling enclave secrets.”
A gust of wind blows over the cliff, cutting through our clothes and stealing my oxygen. Of all the things he could ask for, why this?
“Give me a break,” Ciprian says. “What’s hypocritical is you hating me for hiding my last name, then going on a revenge bender and threatening my best friend.”
