Bellamy does the only thing he can think to do: closes his eyes without responding. He pretends he hasn’t heard, and he’s so relaxed that feigning sleep is easy.
His deceitful silence stretches out until Rakos says, “Are you asleep?”
Rakos won’t catch him out that easily. Bellamy remains slumped and quiet against Rakos’s chest. He’s a way better actor than the Shadow of Draskora.
A moment later, Rakos breathes a quiet laugh. Tightens his arm around Bellamy’s body and presses a kiss to the top of Bellamy’s head. “Sleep well, love.”
Oh, fuck.
Bellamy tries to persuade himself that he’s asleep after all, so he can enjoy this dream without an ending.
?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Rakos
Rakos idly pops another blackberry in his mouth. The Friendly Forest is friendlier than he expected. So much for all the stories about the magic trees accosting travelers.
Bell seems exhausted by the journey despite frequent rests. They both are. They ended up riding double most of the first two days. Rakos is near his limits pushing back the forest’s ambient power, and he can’t spare energy on quieting Bell’s mind again.
At least it’s more comfortable than their previous flight through the southern forest. The weather is colder, but they have warm clothes, actual bedrolls, and fire kits.
They supplement their travel food with berries and fruit found throughout the forest. Rakos is surprised by the number of heavily laden blackberry bushes they find along the path, and especially in the clearings they sleep in.
“Are the berries good?” Bell asks the third morning.
“Delicious,” Rakos says. “I really didn’t think they were native to this area.”
Bell pops another into his mouth. “Maybe it’s the weird magic everywhere.”
Rakos finds himself reluctant to leave the peaceful glade as Bell stretches to his feet, arms lifted, shirt riding up—not enough to expose any skin, but Rakos’s imagination can fill in the rest. As much as he enjoys seeing Bell in that wyrmskin coat, Rakos wishes it were summer and he could see Bell in short sleeves outside of festivals.
After tossing his last blackberry to Bastard, who ignores it, Rakos gets to his feet. Time to untether the horses and get moving.
“We’re only half a day from the edge of the forest,” Rakos says. “I think. Like I said, I usually fly over.”
“That really explains so, so much,” Bell says with a grin. “Okay, we’re all packed up.”
Rakos rubs the berry juice from his fingers. “Not quite. You missed one thing.”
Bell frowns at him, then melts into a laugh as Rakos crowds against him and kisses that sweet smile into submission. There’s an unavoidable joy about being with Bell. It’s like flying. It’s like diving and trusting Bell to pull him up at the last minute. They make out lazily, slowly, and Rakos would love this to last forever.
Until Bell yanks away from the kiss with a gasp. “Wyrm. There!”
Rakos draws Zuzana’s long knife. An entirely unsuitable weapon for a wyrm attack, but it’s all Rakos has. He still tastes Bell on his lips as his entire body comes alert for a battle he doesn’t see. The glade is just as peaceful as it was moments ago.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“It’s moving.” Bell braces one hand against a towering orange hadarnut tree, then points to a spot across the clearing. “There.”
Rakos whirls just as the wyrm breaks from the ground.
Soil bursts away from the rugged white and gold creature. First its ridged, wedge-shaped head swings around, then the sinuous curves of its body. Each of its six legs ends in razor-sharp claws. Like a wingless, stunted dragon, the wyrm’s shoulder is as tall as Rakos’s hip. This one moves more slowly than Rakos expects, flicking its head around as if distracted.
Rakos calls to the shadows beneath the trees. The dark edges of the beautiful morning. His magic won’t help against fangs or claws, but he should “Get back!”
Bell doesn’t move from the hadarnut tree. “Stand still.”
