“It isn’t.” There’s a huge difference between keeping some things to yourself and lying for the fun of it.
“A lie by omission is still a lie.”
This man is infuriating. It was an incredibly stupid risk to take, and now he’s arguing with me like a child. We could have been killed. “You’re amoron,” I say.
“Oh, absolutely,” he says.
And fuck it, the way he says it is so genuine, I laugh.
I’m still laughing when I hear the voices approaching.
Soren covers my mouth with his hand and presses me against the wall. I darken the shadows again as we wait for the cheated gamblers to pass us by.
I’m listening for them to turn down the alley, preparing for a fight, but I’m also feeling Soren’s body against me. He’s warm from our run, and his hand is soft on my mouth. I can smell the beer on him, but also that smoky, spicy scent I smelled earlier. It’s so alluring it floods my senses.
I want to kiss him. I’m reminded of the slip of my mind when I met Ronan—I’m so starved for affection, maybe I’d want to kiss anyone—but it’s different with Soren. I want to kiss him not just out of desperation or to save my life from my damning thoughts, but because I’ve had a really great time, the best time I’ve had in years, and I don’t want it to end.
The footsteps retreat, and Soren drops his hand. But he doesn’t step away from me.
“Is Hazel your real name?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Is Soren yours?” I reply. I didn’t see it until now, but there are parts of his story that don’t make sense. The way his magic worked earlier, so unlike any nature-born I’ve ever known. The scars on his hands that don’t feel like anything.
Relying on spies when he’s able to move freely through the market, checking on competitors on his own.
And where’s his store, anyway? Why hadn’t we gone there?
But he’s standing so close to me, it’s hard to focus on the inconsistencies. It’s hard to focus on anything when I feel his heat, when his hand combs my hair and then touches my lips, when his own lips part as he leans in. I reach for his face and—
A bell chimes the hour loudly nearby. It’slate.
“Fuck,” he says, pulling away quickly. “I have to go.”
So do I. I’ve been gonewaytoo long now. If Adria didn’t tell a really good lie, they’ve probably sent out a search party.
“Until next time,” says Soren, kissing my hand. As he turns away, he winks at me.
He winks at me.
And suddenly, I see it.
I don’t dare to think it, not until I’m running far away in the opposite direction. I focus on the sound of the bells, echoing theirding ding ding dingin my thoughts, desperately trying not to let the name form in my mind.
Because I recognize that wink.
When I turn the corner and the palace comes into view, I can’t suppress the thought any longer.
Ronan. Soren is God-King Ronan.
Chapter Nine
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
The moment I realize that Soren is Ronan, I’m completely, one hundred percent certain that I’m right.
Oh gods, what did I say to him?
My mind races back through our conversations, back through every thought and feeling I had near Soren.
