Fresh, cold air was unbearably pleasant. I was relieved to leave the crush of so many bodies behind, but I remained wary. We were more exposed now than we had been. My eyes darted nervously as we traveled closer to the palace.
I followed Harkin through the wind of cobblestone streets. The layout was confusing and bordering on redundant—pathways crisscrossing and looping upon themselves. I tried not to think too hard about the strangeness of it. It seemed perfectly normal that a mágikal kingdom would be filled with such oddities.
The sun settled beyond the horizon, the purple black of night sweeping over the expansive sky. Lanterns were fewer and further between as we reached the incongruity of this in between space. The bustling festival was far behind us, but we had not yet reached the rising grandeur of the palace. Pubs and shops lined the street, but many doors were shuttered, their proprietors likely joining in on the fun of the festival night.
A prickling lingered at the back of my neck, the feeling of eyes upon me. I had long since let go of Harkin’s arm, but I reached for his hand now, squeezing hard to alert him. Harkin turned to face me, glancing behind us from the corner of his eye.
“Goddesses, damn it,” he swore quietly and increased our pace, still gripping my hand tightly in his own.
We turned a corner to the left, followed the street for a few dozen paces, then dipped to the right. Our steps were harried and far too loud in the quiet dusk.
Armored soldiers trailed behind. Their sword hands grasped the hilts of their weapons, the other raised as if preparing to strike with mágik.
I met Harkin’s eyes, and we burst into a sprint. Footsteps echoed through the street, ringing as our shadows took pursuit.
“Don’t stop!” Harkin urged.
Cobblestone blurred beneath my feet as we sped away, panting into the darkness. Harkin led me in a confusing path ducking through alleys and doubling back on streets I was positive we had already walked upon.
“Harkin, we have to fight them!”
The soldiers remained staunchly behind us, their pace quickening in turn. I was unnerved at the silence in their steps. There was not a single creak in their full-suited armor.
“No, we can still lose them.”
Breathlessly, Harkin pulled me along. When we turned the next corner, he wrenched a door open and ushered me inside. We spilled into a pub, heavily patronized despite the quietness of the others we had passed.
“Take off your cloak,” Harkin ordered.
I shed the fabric without question, and he stowed it behind a potted plant near the window. He returned to me, gripping my arm firmly as he directed us to a darkened corner at the back of the room.
Harkin positioned me against the wall. He faced me, his body blocking any view our pursuers might have had of me if they had followed us inside.
Door hinges squealed. How I heard it over the raucousness of the revelers, I did not know. I peeked my head around Harkin’s shoulder and saw the soldiers, milling through the pub in search of us.
Harkin swore again, reading the truth in my eyes. He pressed closer, our bodies nearly touching. “We cannot get caught.” Thereseemed to be a question in his warm brown eyes, a consideration as he pondered his next move.
I nodded, slowly.
“Do you trust me?” His voice was a breath I could hardly hear over the rush of blood in my ears.
Yes,my heart cried.
“No,” I forced myself to say. The words tasted wrong in my mouth, bitter and sharp.
Hurt flashed across his face, but it passed so quickly, I wondered if it had really been there at all.
“Trust me,” he said, no longer a question.
I did not answer aloud, but Harkin must have read the answer in my face. That longing within me to sayyes, to sayplease, to sayI would trust you for the rest of my life if I thought you could keep my heart safe.
Harkin’s flesh melded to mine, pressing me firmly into the wall. My head tipped back instinctually, heat rushing through my body as his lips crushed to mine without hesitation.
His hands tangled in my hair, still unbound—still waiting for him to plait it once more. His fingers twined and tugged, pulling deliciously at my scalp as his tongue dipped past my lips. He tasted like sugared apples and cream from the dessert we had shared.
I sighed into his mouth, a sound like relief, and he groaned, one hand moving to grasp at my waist. Harkin pulled me impossibly closer, every hard line of his body pressed to mine. Harkin’s thigh pressed between my legs, and I could feel his desire, as I knew he must feel mine.
I reached for him, hands tangling in the rough-spun fabric of his tunic. I wished it away, pushing my fingers beneath it to skim acrossthe bare skin of his stomach. A growl of frustration and wanting rumbled in his throat as he devoured my lips with his own.
