I inhale deeply, forcing frigid air into my lungs in an attempt to tamp down on the irrational desire coursing through me. I nod slowly and take a half-step back. I need to create distance between us before I have her on her back again for entirely different reasons.
“After you.” I gesture to the snowcapped trees behind me.
Her brows knit together. “Where?”
“To investigate that sound.”
Chapter Six
Thesurroundinglandscapeisbeautiful—pristine snow, glittering snowcapped trees—but my idiot eyes can’t seem to appreciate anything besides Mayah’s ass.
She strides ahead, arms crossed tightly, throwing an icy glare at me over her shoulder every ten steps or so. Her clothes are still soaked from the rain, clinging to her curves.
And I’m just a man.
My thigh throbs with each step, though the pain isn’t nearly as bad as when Lev punched a fist-sized rock into my leg as teenagers.
“Are you normally this chivalrous?” Mayah bites out through chattering teeth, stepping over a fallen branch. “Making me walk in front.”
I frown—her teeth haven’t stopped clacking together since she awoke. She’ll need to change into the spare clothes I found soon.
“I won’t let the rebels hurt you.”
“It’s notthemI’m worried about. I don’t likeyoubehind me.”
I don’t respond, transfixed by her swaying hips. Am I imagining it, or did she add an extra sashay for my benefit?
Of course not, idiot.She despises you after you tied her up and pinned her to the ground in the snow.
Mayah speeds up, and I’m so distracted, I nearly miss it in my periphery.
“Wait,” I call, stopping beside a small tree. A jagged break splits the trunk in half, needled branches drooping on either side. My distrust comes crackling back.
“What?” She crosses her shivering arms, chin tilted in defiance.
“Look.” I point to the center of the tree—there’s a thick, twisted column of ice where the bark splits, as if water had surged through the trunk and then frozen until it cracked in half.
Slowly, she meets my eyes.
“A waterwielder did this,” I add casually.
She doesn’t respond.
“You don’t know of any waterwielders that might have followed us, do you? The captain of the Tundrayni royal guard, perhaps?”
She shifts on her feet. “Not that I know of.”
I stare, waiting for the telltale proof that she’s lying.
It never comes.
“Seriously?” she snaps, arms crossed. “You think I sent Daak after you? Maybe I should’ve.”
A low grunt is my only response. I pivot and head back to the clearing where I left the satchels with our clothing and supplies, distinctly aware of the quiet crunch of her boots, the soft thrum of her energy signature as she follows.
I grab her satchel from the base of a large tree and hand it to her. “Change out of your wet clothes before you freeze to death.”
I half expect her to argue, and if I’m being truthful, I’m disappointed when she doesn’t.
