“And you brought me here because…”
“Because I know what she’s doing.”
“Don’t leave me in the dark.”
She wanted to quip back that they’d be better off in the dark. That there were some things better left unsaid. “Damari’s not just a murderer, she’s a thief, too,” she said. “There’s magic inside the trees.”
Toran turned about, taking in the remains of the distillery. “She’s stealing the magic in the trees. But why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it—”
She raised a brow. Toran chuckled, and she couldn’t keep the corners of her lips from quirking at the sound. It had become a knee-jerk reaction for her. He laughed, and she smiled.
“It doesn’t matter,” he breathed. “Because if it’s magic she’s after, then we’ll give her magic.”
She smirked. “I do enjoy playing the cat.”
“As long as I’m not the mouse.”
“Captain, you’ve been the mouse since the day we met.” She put her back to him, heading for the door.
“Have you already forgotten?”
His lips were so close to the back of her ear, she heard it when he stuck his tongue out, running it between his top and bottom lip. Her heartbeat quickened.
Fingers, so much larger and rougher than her own, were at her elbow. He gently pulled her back around to face him. His pure eyes had turned to boulders. Solid and heavy, they rolled down her.
Her voice had gotten lost somewhere, distracted and turned around by the drumbeat that had become her heart.
“I’m the one who caught you, Nes,” he said, his voice husky now, like that of a dying flame.
“That’s—that’s not true.” She’d meant for her words to come out with confidence, with enough conviction to make him remember the girl who’d pushed him into that brawlhouse pit. Instead, her voice was small, her breath scarce.
“Isn’t it?” The heat from his breath tickled her cheeks.
He reached a hand up to cup her cheek. And then the other. His hands were warm, his palms slightly slick with sweat as he pressed them against the curve of her jaw. He could have been dripping for all she cared. As long as he didn’t take his hands away, as long as he didn’t stop holding her close. With their gazes locked and her face between his hands, the distillery, with its high ceilings and large windows, shrank to the size of just two people.
A soft groan reverberated through the warehouse.
An ache poured into her veins, his every exhale spurring her heart to beat faster. He leaned down until his nose stroked the freckles off hers. His lips were so close. Close enough to catch.
She should deny him. There was no point in pursuing her feelings when she wasn’t going to stay here in Gadore, stay here with him. She should erect that wall she was so accustomed to building between herself and everyone around her. She should push him away. She should, butGoddess damn the world, she didn’t want to do any of that.
What she wanted was togive in.
She turned her head and he followed, as if their lips were on either end of a short string. All she had to do was pull the string—pull the string and his lips would meet hers.
The groan grew louder, accompanied by an odd shuffling sound.
That string between them snapped. They both froze.
She’d checked for magic and found no trace. But even knowing she’d been followed before, she hadn’t considered they might not be the only ones here—that a ransacked magic distillery might be empty but not abandoned.
Nes waited, trying to calm her breath enough for her ears to confirm what her brain already knew.
The groan, low and wet, crept toward them. In front of her, Toran’s body was stiff. The sound hadn’t come from him.
