I didn’t know whether I wanted to lean in or pull away from him. And I didn’t know what he would do in response to either one. And I certainly didn’t know what Iwantedhim to do. What if I did give in to the sudden urge to lean closer? Would he wind his shadows further up my arm? Would he even go so far as to kiss me?
But what if I leapt to my feet and took off down the tunnel, resuming our search for the Everstone? Would he take that asa rejection to his invitation and never try again? Would I evenwanthim to try again?
All these questions rattled around inside my brain like gemstones in a mine cart. I had two options, and I had no bloomin’ idea which one I wanted, and I didn’t want to choose for fear of chasing down the wrong thing.
So I did neither one.
I just sat there, staring into the depths of his midnight eyes, waiting forhimto make the move.
Tension pounded between us. His shadows tightened around my arm. I pulled a breath into my lungs and held it there, my eyes darting down to his lips. And then, so slowly it was almost like it wasn’t happening, he let his shadows fall from my skin.
Exhaling, he stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “I vow to find you a cure, Astrid. And I hope you know I’d sooner die than break a promise. You will step your feet on grassy land one day.”
Disappointment flooded through me, rushing as fast as the waterfall. I was so focused on his choice to pull away, I almost failed to register his promise. Oddly, it seemed to matter less in the moment. The gulf of cold air between us loomed so large.
“Thank you,” I said crisply, then stood and brushed the dirt from my trousers.
Honestly, I’d been a fool to expect anything else, and I was even more of a fool to be disappointed by the lack of it. Other than his heated stares and his dancing shadows—which meant nothing from a shadow demon—he’d shown no interest in anything more than friendship. All right, sure, he’d flirted a little, too. But again, that meant nothing. He clearly had no interest in me.
AndIhad no interest inhim, I reminded myself. Whatever I was feeling was only a result of his allure. Down here in the darkness of the mines, shadows were thick. It called at his allure,brought it to the surface. All of this was just magic and nothing more.
Besides, Tormund was only here for a short time. Soon, he would leave The Glass Peaks to return to Azraak. And as much as I yearned to breathe fresh air, walk barefoot through the grass, and bask in the morning sun’s rays, I would never walk away from my home forever. I couldn’t leave all this behind, and he might expect me to if we went further. Besides, there was no telling how long it would take to find my cure. I could be stuck here for years longer. Tormund would never want to be trapped in the dwarven mines.
I rolled my eyes at myself. What in fate’s name was I even thinking? The demon hadn’t even kissed me, let alone asked for a relationship. His allure really was a tricky bastard, wasn’t it?
“Astrid?” Tormund asked with a frown.
“Yes, sorry.” I’d been standing there far too long without speaking a word.
“You disappeared on me…everything all right?”
“I’m just thinking I hope we find this bloomin’ dragon,” I said. “We should get going.”
He considered me for a moment, and I couldn’t help but worry I’d never heard the full extent of shadow demon powers. What if they could read minds? Or infer thoughts based on facial expressions? Gods, he would know I’d been daydreaming about his bedroom eyes and contemplating how a relationship could work between us.
But then he stepped to the side and motioned me forward. “After you, Astrid.”
My heart pounded. He really needed to stop saying my name like that.
We took off down the mine tunnels, following the fading light of the sunstones. The deeper we ventured, the darker it got. Tormund and I would not be discouraged, however. Ourpath continued ever forward, and we passed the time with lively conversation. He asked me about my life growing up, and I told him all about Jostein and how he’d raised me as his own, training me young to work the mines. And then I asked about his childhood. The opposite of me, he had half a dozen siblings. They were all quite a bit older, and they’d left home a long time ago.
“I suppose they feel more like aunts and uncles than siblings,” he told me. “And they’re all scattered around the world now. I hardly ever see them.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
He shrugged, though I couldn’t help but spot a flicker of pain in his eyes. “I’ve got Tahir. He’s like a brother to me.”
“Funny thing to say about a dragon,” I replied with a smile.
“Once you meet him, you’ll understand,” said Tormund.
“Have you bonded with him?” I asked carefully. “I thought only orcs could do that.”
Safely, anyway. Folk bonding with dragons had started the bloody war with Isveig—at least, that had been Isveig’s excuse for destroying the dragons and conquering the orcs. Dragon magic was a volatile thing. Folk weren’t meant to bond with that magic and channel it as their own. Only orcs could do it without losing control. More than one village had gone up in flames because the wrong person had tried to bond with a dragon.
Eventually, folk stopped doing it. I thought we’d all learned our lesson. Bonding with dragons caused nothing but trouble.
I sent up a prayer to the gods that we weren’t back there again.
