Why does he still smell the same? Why can’t my body forget the way it felt to press against him in the cold? Why can’t I just stop?—
“Sapphire?” His gaze narrows, and I feel his magic pressing closer, wrapping around me like a winter storm. “Are you okay?”
It’s a simple question. But the way he asks it makes my ribs feel like they’re caving in.
Like he already knows the answer. Like he actuallycaresabout the answer.
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing myself to look away and grab the next item in the trunk like my life depends on it.
His gaze lingers. He doesn’t believe me.
But he lets it go. For now.
“There’s a wineskin, too,” I say, willing my voice back to normal, even though it’s definitely shaking a bit. “With instructions to not drink it.”
“Because we always follow instructions so well,” he replies, looking away from me to study the dark liquid inside.
I narrow my eyes at him.
Focus. Just focus.
“The note says it’s ‘for those who no longer taste,’” I read, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my skin. “Which sounds ominous enough that I’d rather not test it.”
“Your self-preservation instincts are improving. I’m almost proud,” he says, setting down the wineskin and pulling out an herb wrapped in cloth. “Although this one’s apparently for me to eat before reaching the island.”
I cross my arms. “Lucky you. Maybe it’s poison.”
His lips curve into something sharp. “Your concern is touching.”
“I try my best.”
We spend the next few minutes analyzing the contents of the trunk, which also holds a waterproof pack for us to put everything in, and some food.
All of it vegetarian.
At the sight of it, the hunger for blood slams into me again. A deep, gnawing ache curling beneath my ribs.
“You need to hunt,” Riven says, and I hate that he notices.
I hate how he’s always so in tune with me, no matter how unreadable he is. And I hate that part of me—some deep, instinctual part—wants him tobein tune with me.
“Someone needs to protect all this stuff,” he continues, as if unaware of my internal battle, even though the wind’s picking up around us. “You stay close to it. I’ll see if there are any rabbits or squirrels in the backyard of our haunted resort.”
I have no idea why, but it’s enough to make me snap.
“You aresonot offering me room service of rabbits and squirrels,” I say, and with one final glare, I turn and stalk toward the woods.
“Stay close, Princess,” he calls afterward. “I want to be able to hear you if you scream.”
“Don’t worry,” I toss back over my shoulder, flashing him a sharp smile. “If I scream, it won’t be for you.”
With that, I storm toward the woods with the wind blowing behind me.
And while it’s cold and cutting, it’s not nearly as cold as the look I know Riven’s giving me as I disappear into the trees.
