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Something solid presses into my lower back.

As inexperienced as I am, I know what it means.

Despite everything—the lies, the papers, the five hundred gold coins, the fact that I nearly let him sink into a bog, the proof he’s uncovered how incredibly weak and worthless I am—he actually desires me?

This is the first time I can remember a man treating me as if I matter. Normally, I wouldn’t warrant a second glance.

Though I shouldn’t want this, want him, I go dizzy with the intense heat flooding through me.

Shame and desire tangle together until I can’t tell the difference. My body responds without permission. My core clenches, and wetness gathers between my thighs. My back arches, pressing me firmly against him.

He feels so good. So right.

No. No. I won’t. Can’t.

But I already am.

He releases me abruptly, like I’m contaminated.

I stumble forward, trembling over the sudden absence of his warmth. Before I can process what’s happening, he’s dragging me back to the trees that edge our camp.

“I don’t like liars.” He unties my wrists, then, before I can react, adds another thong that he wraps around the tree, leaving me hugging the bole.

The bark scrapes me through my thin camisole, shocking me out of my lusty thoughts. “I don’t like kidnappers.” My sharp tone reflects the rejection shredding my insides.

I should have known better. No one wants the broken princess who can’t do a single thing right.

He steps back, glaring down at me. “What does the tattoo mean?”

Anger locks my jaw and stills my tongue. I’ve given him more than enough. I won’t willingly reveal anything I don’t have to. If he weren’t some kind of barbarian, he wouldn’t even have to ask about my Warden tattoo.

After a few moments of silence, he spins and saunters away, just like that. He drops cross-legged next to the fire, like I’m not worth another second of his attention.

Panic surges through me. The chilly bark leeches warmth from my body, cooling my skin. “You can’t leave me like this!”

He picks up a stick and idly stirs the fire. “Watch me.”

“No, you can’t just—” My mind jumps to my shadow spinners. Could they chew through my bindings? Maybe. If I could communicate with them well enough that they knew what I wanted. But I’ve never gotten them to do anything more than swarm or settle.

“I can do anything I want.” He holds his hands up, showcasing his huge, calloused palms. “Tonight, I was supposed to get information on these strange events happening in this kingdom. I finally get a lead, but when I show up, you’re there instead.”

My brow furrows. Is he referring to the Hushing Sickness? The Withering? And why is he searching for information about them? My father and Veradin are leading the research team and figuring out a cure.

Maybe my captor is from another country. That would explain why he’s not familiar with my Warden tattoos.

“And you’re picking up everything you can but won’t say why while also hauling around enough gold to pay a handsome ransom. Worse, you refuse to answer a single question. You’re my only lead now, and I’ll do whatever it takes to complete my mission.” He doesn’t look at me, staring into the fire instead.

The flame highlights the red in his hair, and despite everything, I yearn to run my hands through his locks and discover whether they’re soft or coarse.

My blood goes cold.

Is he a spy? Is the “searching for information” line he fed me a bunch of bullshit? Could he, with his earth magic, be involved with the Withering?

Oh gods.

I shove my face into the tree trunk as if that will hide me from my alarming thoughts. Of course, I was in that room, caught red-handed in a space splattered with blood, stealing papers, carrying enough gold to purchase a small army. Looking guilty as a cat in an otherwise empty birdcage. Even as the black sheep Meridian princess, my presence casts my kingdom in a poor light.

Even if I insist I had nothing to do with the murder, he won’t believe me. I’ll only come across as a liar. From his perspective, I at the very least seem complacent. If I’d explained instead of fleeing earlier, perhaps things would be different.