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He wanted. And he was fighting it.
“Please,” he said. The word sounded like it cost him something. “Come inside.”
That look in his eyes, that hunger, should have sent me running.
But I kept thinking about his heartbeat.
“All right,” I said. “Show me inside.”
He turned and walked toward the carved doors, and I followed him into the mountain.
I didn’t look back at the sky. But I thought about it. About the way he’d spread the cloak just so I could see. About the moonlight on the lake. About how it felt to fly, to fall, to be caught.
About the look on his face when he’d seen me shivering. That hunger he’d tried so hard to hide.
I thought about that most of all.
