But he likes it, and I enjoy itgreatly, so I don’t intend to stop.
Then I think about the rest of what he said. About getting my whole self.
I know I won’t be giving that to him, but I can’t help but think of what it would mean for him to “get” me, even the part of me I’m willing to give. As a friend? Something more?
I swore I wouldn’t take him into my bed. But I was ready to take Soren there. And RonanisSoren.
How much of it was real? How much of any of it is real?
“Did you tell me about Taran because you’re jealous?” My heart pounds as the words leave my lips. I can barely believe I’ve dared to ask him, but there’s a part of me that’s desperate to know.
For the sake of the plan, I tell myself.
His hand twitches at his side as he rises to face me. He speaks softly again, that same damned voice that feels like bathing in sunlight on a cold winter’s day. “Maybe there are some parts of Soren’s life that I’ll miss.”
And gods, maybe it’s just manipulation, but it absolutely melts me.
The air between us is still and heavy. I scarcely dare to breathe it in. He hasn’t moved, but I can almost imagine him reaching for me. I can picture his hand grazing my cheek. Feel his phantom fingertips on my skin, warm and smooth.
I can feel the pull of him. The way his light draws me in. A soft, inviting glow.
I am a moth, and he is the moon.
“Good night, Ronan,” I say, and I bow to him, my eyes lingering on his lips as I do. I feel an ache in my chest, a hunger. And, just like the twinge of jealousy, I lean into it.
It can only help, after all.
“Thank you, Sylvie,” he says, his voice breathless.
Chapter Sixteen
Adria’s bed is empty by the time I wake in the morning. Warming up already, I’m sure. It’s the qualifying day for the events we’re competing in, and I’m deeply, deeply regretting staying out so late last night.
Not just because I’m exhausted, physically and mentally, but because in getting the answer I wanted about Soren, I’ve only raised further questions.
The one that weighs the most heavily on my mind is how much of what Ronan said can I believe.
I need to speak to Larus. He’ll be able to help me sort out what’s going on here. That’s if he can get away from Felix long enough to have a real conversation.
But first, the tournament. I dress quickly, donning one of my rougher old tunics, my leather armor, and the new tan pants I bought in the market. I keep my breakfast light in hopes of avoiding revisiting it later if I’m hit in the stomach. Adria is waiting for me at the palace gates, where chariots have arrived to carry the competitors to the arena. The palace’s competitors, at least. The common folk mostly walk.
“You were late last night,” she says, more curiosity in her voice than accusation this time. She’s wearing the pants I boughtfor her, so at least I have that going for me. “And you-know-who wasn’t at dinner. Did you manage to find each other?”
My thoughts race. I’d planned on telling Larus everything, but how much should I tell Adria? “I saw him when I returned from the market,” I say in a panic.
Alright, good start. That much is true. But do I tell her about Soren?
It’s important information about him. It would be good for her to know that he can disguise himself. There’s a chance he could do it and try to deceive us into revealing something about our plans.
So why don’t I want to tell her?
“Well? What happened?”
What happened? What happened?“He was returning from the market too. Some girls have gone missing. I’m not sure how he knew them, but they’re shadow-born like me.”
“I can guess how he knows them.” She makes a rude gesture with her hand and lowers her voice so it can’t be heard over the pounding of the horses’ hooves. “Can’t keep track of his whores?”
That’s really unfair of her to say. She doesn’t know anything about him—
