“We travel to Arbinj together. Where you’ll marry my brother. As planned.”
She gapes at me. “That’ll take weeks on foot! Over a month, even. We don’t have the supplies.”
“Definitely over a month. You’ll slow us down.”
“This is madness,” she bites out. “You’ll be safe in Tundrayn. You’re under my protection.”
No prickles. I smirk. It’s cute that she believes she could protect me. “I appreciate that, Mayah.” She flinches. “Truly. But the answer is no.”
She worries her lower lip, glancing sideways at the snow-covered trees.
“Don’t even think about it.” I take two long strides toward her until only a foot separates us. “I’ll catch you in seconds and drag you back. We’ll have wasted even more precious time.”
She glares at me with open hatred. “Fine,” she grits out. “What next?”
“We keep walking ‘til nightfall. Tomorrow, we’ll keep going. There’s an Arbinji base near the border.” I walk away, certain she’ll follow. What else can she do? “The rebels might still be close. Skies, you’ve been shouting enough to lead them straight to us.”
“Maybe next time, don’t call down a storm just because you’re cranky,” she mutters. “Giant thunderclouds make it very obvious that there’s an insufferable stormwielder nearby.”
I don’t turn around, otherwise she’d see the begrudging smile that curves my lips.
Chapter Seven
Wewalkuntilnightfall.I expect Mayah to demand a break, yet surprisingly, she soldiers through. But when she trips for the third time in the dark, we stop for the night and I begin preparing camp.
I’ve barely set out the blanket when she flops onto it—she must be more tired than she’s letting on. I hand her a few strips of dried meat and a small pouch of nuts, and she tears into it aggressively. My lips twitch. The princess doesn’t seem concerned with appearing ladylike.
“Do you think we were followed?” she asks as I sit across from her and start on my own portion.
“Maybe.” We switched directions often enough, but footprints in the snow are nearly impossible to conceal. “We’ll cover more ground tomorrow.”
She nods absently, rubbing her palms together, blowing hot air over her fingertips. My gaze snags on her wrists. The bruises have darkened to an angry purple, thick bands stark against her pale skin.
I’m an asshole.
“Can you heal those?” I nod toward her wrists.
Mayah hesitates for only a moment before her hands glow white. She presses her fingers to one wrist, then the other, and the bruises disappear. Again, I’m left in complete awe of her miraculous ability.
She glances at me, eyes trailing over my swollen eye and battered nose.
“I’ll heal you,” she offers, her face guarded. “In exchange for a truce. As long as you promise not to break it within seconds.”
I clench my teeth. Of course she’d make another jab about the broken ceasefire. But Iamin pain.
Slowly, I nod.
She shifts closer until she’s kneeling before me. A second of hesitation, as though she regrets her offer, and then glowing hands bracket my neck.
“Not trying to strangle me, are you?” I mutter. It’s a distraction from the way her small hands feel on my skin.
She ignores my comment. Her power floods through me. The pain in my face recedes slowly—first my swollen eye and then my other bruises. She even heals my nose from where she headbutted me.
Mayah sits back and bites her lip, and despite myself, my gaze drops to her mouth, lingering a second too long. She stiffens, then returns her palms to my neck, her power flowing through the rest of my body. I nearly loose a low moan as she soothes my muscles, healing away the injury in my thigh.
When she’s finished, Mayah draws back with a quiet gasp, swaying slightly. Her reserves must be dangerously low.
“That drained you.” When she doesn’t respond, I quietly add, “Thank you.”
