And just like that, we dance. The world falls away, and it’s only the two of us, beneath the light of the moon, dancing to the music of rustling leaves and the gentle whisper of wind.
Zev’s gaze stays locked on mine, lit with something that looks achingly like longing. He leans in, slow and measured, until only inches separate us. His eyes drop to my lips—lingering—then rise again to meet mine, dark with intent.
“Mayah…” He whispers my name like I’m his salvation.
And I’m weak, Tides, I’m weak. My resolve crumbles.
I cradle his face in my palm. His eyes flutter shut. He covers my hand with his own, pressing it tighter to his skin, graceful fingers trailing over mine. The way he touches me—soft, almost trembling—feels like worship, like he’s terrified I’ll vanish. For one fragile heartbeat, I let myself believe this could be real.
But then his body tenses.
He peels my hand from his cheek, lifting it into the moonlight.
The moment shatters with the gleam of black diamond.
He drops my hand like it burned him, and the heated space between us turns glacial. A veil falls over Zev’s eyes, and any softness I may have imagined evaporates.
He pulls away. It hurts more than it should. It shouldn’t hurt at all.
“I think you’re ready for the dance.” Another pang in my chest.
We prepare for sleep in silence, but Zev settles down on the other side of the blanket. Away from me.
“It’s warm enough now that we can sleep apart,” he says with his back turned. It pierces my heart like an ice shard.
I lie there, feeling more alone since we left Tundrayn.
“Is your brother a good man?” I whisper into the dark.
A beat passes.
“No.” His voice is hollow. “But neither am I.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
We’llreachtheArbinjibase tomorrow. Leaves crunch underfoot as I walk, and my legs ache, but for once, I ignore the dull soreness. I don’t want to waste my reserves healing them. I need to be prepared in case we encounter more rebels—or if the Arbinji soldiers don’t greet me as warmly as Zev expects.
Zev.
My eyes find his silhouette, walking ahead of me. Since the night we danced beneath the moonlight, he’s been closed off and distant.
I can’t blame him.
It’s cinched around me, too, this tether between us, but I suspect it has a tighter hold on him. He’s wise to guard his heart. I need to do the same.
My purpose is my armor, and I can’t let whateverthisis—what I feel for him—be the crack that shatters it. Peace for Tundrayn must come first. We’ve suffered too much. My fingers clamp around my mother’s teardrop pendant.
I’vesuffered too much.
When we stop to eat and rest, Zev won’t meet my eyes. His silence shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I should let him be, but I can’t cage my words or the annoyance that coats them. I don’t know if I’m more annoyed with him or myself for caring.
“Are you going to ignore me the rest of the way?”
He looses a deep sigh, his mouth twisting with displeasure.
“Look, the other night. The dance. It—” The words die on my tongue.It didn’t mean anything, I almost said, but it’s a lie.
And he deserves more than that.
