Page 68 of A Cruel Kindness

As we walked along the trail back to camp, I let Clover take the lead. She knew exactly what I needed, hanging just an inch back from Lucky so that I could stare at Soren and remind myself that he was alive.

Until the end of my days, I would never forget the terror that pumped through my veins when I saw him go over that cliff. Nothing else seemed important but him, two planets be damned.

I was losing my strength fighting the Bond.

Even now, it was chanting closer over and over in my head as if it needed to be physically connected to him to believe he was okay. It made me feel slightly better to be the one who’d tended to his wounds.

I would be the one doing that from now on, no matter how much of a possessive freak that made me. No one touched him but me.

I wanted to run my hands over the soft brush of his shaved hair, caress his skin so that the pain of his cut was replaced with the comfort of my touch. I didn’t have the strength to resist that anymore.

Giving into that one vice seemed okay, so long as I stayed away from the other forms of … physical connection the Bond constantly craved. Who was I kidding, I craved it too.

“Bell,” Soren barked halfway through our ride, making me return to his side. When I did, he turned to me, smiling under the rim of that wide brim hat, making me think dark, dark thoughts. “There you are.”

That made me feel very warm. All over. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

“Ah,” Soren breathed, then tsked. “But you did. See, on the way over, you were talking to me. You’ve been silent. Hence, going somewhere.”

My mind tripped over itself, trying to understand him. “You … want me to talk to you?”

Soren hummed, though it sounded a little like a laugh. “If you would, princess. Don’t leave me to my own devices for the next thirty minutes.”

It was silly, and a thought I’d sooner die than share with him, but that was the first time someone had ever directly stated that they enjoyed my presence. Or conversation, or whatever Soren meant.

Up until coming here, I’d been invited places because of my title. No one ever bothered to clarify whether they enjoyed me, not just my crafty, diplomatic maneuvering. That was just a skill. It said nothing about the person I really was.

“Those flowers are pretty,” I stuttered out awkwardly, pointing at a swath of bright purple flowers along the left side of the trail.

Soren didn’t seem to mind, his smile staying in place as he nodded and said, “That is iris. You want some?”

Before I could answer, Soren made a clicking noise in the back of his throat. The next second, Lucky dropped his neck and twisted to the side, ripping off a chunk of flowers. Soren leaned forward, grabbing them from his mouth before offering them to me.

I stared down at his hand blankly before he said, “For saving my life.”

I stayed staring. “You were strong enough to pull yourself up.”

Soren’s hand shook the flowers insistently. “Your help probably saved me from a shoulder injury. Take them.”

I wrapped my fingers around the stems, trying to ignore the jolt that shot up my arm when my pinky brushed the top of Soren’s hand. “Thank you,” I said, then tried not to cringe at how shaken up I sounded.

God, he was doing a real number on my system.

To thank him, I started blabbering about how the flowers were different than the ones I’d grown up seeing in the Edelstenne islands. My home was wonderful, though I’d grown up splitting my time between the islands and the Capital to prepare for my father’s ascension. It was like an eternal spring, filled with lightly rainy days or soft sun that bloomed the most wonderful collection of flowers.

Turns out, Soren had never actually been.

Our conversation spiraled so far out of control, I’d alluded to him coming home with me no less than three times.

But Soren just kept smiling, a light, easy grin that made me want to keep talking until he forcefully made me stop.

The back half of the ride passed by so quickly, I blinked and we were approaching the stables. Soren hovered nearby while I braided Clover’s mane and tucked some of the iris into each strand, then did the same to Lucky.

Once I was done, I turned and the first thing I saw was that blood was peeking through his bandage. My frown was so severe it hurt my face.

“Come here,” I said unhappily, all but dragging him with me to the back of the stables where there was a sink with clean water.

I felt like a shell of myself, only moving on instinct as I cleaned and redressed Soren’s wound. Not even the warm press of his hands on my legs could pull me out of my singular focus.