“Fine,” she echoed. “That’s a convenient word for men like you.”
His eyes narrowed, a trace of smoke dancing between his fingers. “And what kind of man am I, exactly?”
“The kind that smiles after starting a fire,” she said, finally noticing Callum.
He slipped by everyone, looking at Elva once, where she sat with Inessa and Nezra, before he dipped behind a tent flap.
Ronan almost laughed, but he felt her pulse jump, traitorously loud. Despite it, he said, “Better than the kind who enjoys watching it burn.”
He knew she had felt Callum’s fury through whatever bond he still shared with her. She didn’t have to hear the words exchanged to know Ronan had rattled him.
The fire crackled low, all spit and ember, no warmth reaching them.
“Ooh, do I get credit for the entire argument between you two just now, or are you saving some blame for yourself?” Shadows wove over the hollow of her throat, over the line of her jaw.
“I’m saying you tend to be at the center of things when they get combative.”
She let out a short, disbelieving laugh and folded her arms across her chest. “Are you always this insufferable, or do you just have a special thing for me?”
He lifted the arrowhead from his pocket, rolling it between his fingers, the white gilding in flashes from the flames, before finally answering, “Just you.” After a beat he looked at her. “Everyone else I burn before they have the chance to complain.”
Her brows lifted. “There’s that efficiency again.”
Ronan smiled. “I’m merciful, remember?”
“Right,” she murmured, looking back to where everyone began to disperse, collecting their satchels and packing up the tents. “I keep forgetting you have such a kind soul.”
“Hardly.” His stare lingered a moment too long. On her lips, her neck, the pulse fluttering there. ‘But I’m trying to improve.”
“Oh?” she scoffed. “Now we’re noble, are we?”
“Noble’s a stretch,” he said, giving her a swift wink.
The twitch in her jaw was worth the effort; she hated that he’d unsettled her with a gesture as small as that. “Oh phew, I’d hate to be so unimpressed by the wrong thing.”
“Something tells me nobility isn’t what inspires you anyway.” His words came out rough, dragged from his chest instead of chosen.
Smiling, she lifted her chin, taking a step closer. “You’d never survive what influences me.”
He leaned in, close enough for the space between them to feel smaller than it should. “I was made to survive worse than you can imagine, love.”
The way she looked at Ronan was damning itself, her full lips curving, until the point in her teeth shone as bright as her eyes.
As though she’d already memorized all the ways she was going to ruin him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Verena
IT HAD BEEN A WEEK SINCE SUNHAVEN. A week of the kind of walking that makes a body ache.
Gus had gone out to hunt, and when he didn’t return, I offered to search for him. Ronan insisted on coming along, and after my grumbling I realized it was a battle I wouldn’t win.
The forest was awake when we entered in search of him. Loud, beating with the sound of life. Aelia’s sun poured through the canopy, the familiar warmth catching my cheek as I twisted to look up.
Birds had begun their descent south, drifting in sweeping arcs as they followed above us. Small creatures rustled through the underbrush, scavenging, preparing for Luamis’ promised winter.
It was noisy, harmonious. Until it wasn’t.
