“No, we trained together as juniors. They never paired us together. We were hell to train,” he says, chuckling to himself.
“You? A rule breaker? I don’t believe that,” I tease.
“I don’t need to break rules anymore, Elodie. I make them,” he says, moving towards me, his fingers grazing the skin of my arms. The words have barely left his lips when a sickening clatter echoes through the silence. A loose chunk of rock dislodges under the tension of the rope, causing it to tumble over the edge. It hits the bottom of the abyss like a gunshot in the still of night. Rowan’s playful smirk vanishes instantly, replaced by a mask of cold, lethal intent. His hand firmly clamps over my mouth, pulling us both back against the nearest tree.
“Don’t breathe,” he mouths against my temple. I spot the beam of two torchlights moving towards us in the distance as my breathing picks up. The rhythm of my breathing pushes against Rowan’s body. A muffled voice drifts from ahead, “Just a rockslide. Been a few this week. It’s the weather.”
“Check it anyway,” a second voice grunts. The light moves closer to us as the footsteps get louder and clearer. Rowan leans in, brushing his lips against my ear.
“If they find us, you run. You don’t look back for us. You run. I cannot protect you if the king has you.” I nod my head in understanding as the rhythmic thud of boots crunches closer and closer.
“I see something,” the guard mutters, his voice only feet away. My fingers are white-knuckled around Rowan’s forearm as I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m ready to bolt, my muscles coiled like a spring. Then, a sudden, sharp crack echoes in the opposite direction.
“Over there!” the second guard shouts, and the footsteps shuffle away from us. Their voices growing distant once more, as Rowan finally lets out the breath he’s been holding.
“Too close,” he rasps, his voice thick with adrenaline. Just as I open my mouth to whisper back, the rope jumps up and down.
“She found it,” I breathe, the relief making my knees weak. Rowan’s hand stays firm on my waist, his thumbs digging in with a quick, hard squeeze. The cocky smirk is back.
“Rule-breaking looks good on you, Hawthorne.” He leans in, his nose brushing mine as my body falls into his.
“Rowan,” a soft call comes from below. “Help me up.” We pull away quickly, moving towards the edge of the stone as Rowan lifts Bryn up and over the edge. She scrambles over the edge, her clothes filthy with dirt as if she’s been through a coal mine. But when she opens her clenched fist, multiple shards of stone as dark as the night sky. She stares at us both, narrowing her eyes at us as she hands the shards of rock to Rowan.
“Well, you two look like you’ve been productive whilst I was down there risking my life,” she says with a smirk, rubbing her hands together and brushing the dirt off her clothes.
“If you’d gone a little longer down there, we could have beenreallyproductive,” Rowan says under his breath, but it’s loud enough that we both hear it. My hand flies out to slap his shoulder.
“Rowan!” I whisper-shout at him as he smirks to himself. “God, you might be worse than Kael.”
“Worse than Kael? Low blow, Hawthorne. Low. Blow.” His smirk falters for half a second before shoving the Black Heel into his pocket.
“Let’s get out of here before they come looking again,” he says. Bryn gathers up the rope as we set off back to Mara’s. Rowan comes to my side, whispering low enough that only I can hear it,
“For the record? Kael’s all talk. I actually do what I say I’m going to do.” He brushes past me, catching up with Bryn and leaving me flustered once again.
The trek back to Mara’s feels longer than the walk we took to the maw. We have mostly been in silence, only talking to warn each other of uneven ground or rogue tree roots.
“The unbinding itself is volatile,” Bryn whispers, “I can’t do it at home. I can’t be sure what damage it may cause.”
“We can’t do it at the castle either. The king will surely look for us by now,” I say. “What about the meadow?” I ask, turning to Rowan.
“That would work.” Bryn says. “Can you get me there?” she asks.
“I can,” he says, his voice low. “We do it as soon as the sun is up.” Rowan’s hand finds mine at our sides.
He pulls me close but keeps his head forward.
“What will the king do if he finds out what you’re doing?” I ask him. A sudden, sharp sting flares across my arm.
“Ouch—” I hiss out, my hand clutching at the pain instantly. I look down at my arm, seeing a thin slice across my skin. A single bead of blood wells up, dripping down and landing on the wet moss below. What is it with this forest attacking me, sure, I’m clumsy, but seriously? Rowan pulls me into him, assessing my arm as he rips a strip of cloth from his shirt. He ties it carefully around my arm.
“I’m going to run out of clothes to wear if you keep cutting yourself, Hawthorne,” he mutters, his gaze dropping to the blood below. Once again, my blood glows a vivid blue.
“Still think it’s nothing to worry about?” I ask him, my eyes narrowing into slits. He looks at me with genuine concern, and I know he’s hiding something. This can’t be normal, this is the second time it’s happened now.
“Bryn?” She is still staring down at the moss, her eyes wide with shock.
