After a beat, she bobs her delicate head, eyes bright and alert despite all that has happened. “Around the campfire,” she said. “Was I naked?”
Very. Naked, frozen and vulnerable. She’d tried to kiss me then too, and I’d narrowly avoided letting her.
Shadow. Focus. I wanted to shake her, or myself.
“Promise you’ll return,” I growled, my substitute for shaking. “If we don’t find you, and he’s out cold, drag his ass back to the White Castle. Promise me.”
“Why? Why don’t we just go now?”
“He won’t risk you there. Not after this. He won’t risk you stepping foot back in Silva – even if it kills him – until he knows he can keep you safe.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Soot-servant,” she said, tapping herself on the chest. “Make promise – keep promise.”
I hooked my finger under her chin. “Saber,” I corrected.
Her damn almost silver eyes held mine. No one ever holds my gaze, least not anyone that also holds my other attentions. I lost the battle not to press my lips into hers right there and then.
Just a kiss, I told myself.
I could break her with one hand, and I have. That night when she tried to wake me, I’d broken a bone in her arm. I knew that, but still held on for that one kiss, struggling to rein in the shadows wanting to be let free to swarm around us.
I wanted to go further, let my tongue explore her mouth and my hands roam over her skin, but she was injured and my fear of hurting her all too real. Though I couldn’t help brushing my thumb over her ribs and noticing the way she sighed against me.
Me. The fucking Seed of Darkness. The absolute last person any living thing should want to seek comfort with. But she did, leaning into me, cold air rising from her breath. Her fingers curled against my spine then stretched and caressed – so gentle. So uncaring of the dangers.
I inhaled, her honey scent filling my senses, making me draw in a second deep breath, wanting more. The feel of her in my arms, the smell and the sight, right down to the heart I could sense beating inside her chest, all of it overrode my common sense. Told me to let my shadows go, set them free, and take her with me. To hell with the consequences.
So, as quickly as the kiss had begun, I ended it.
Shutting down the heart thread that foolishly reached to connect with hers.
The risk was, and still is, too great. The dangers too high. The consequences beyond imagining.
That last moment with Shadow has replayed a few dozen times on the road. Both delicious torment and consuming pain.
Roarke rides ahead, just visible in the lustreless slice of a waning crescent moon and the gap in the forest formed by the quiet road. He has a book propped open in his left hand, the reins in his right, and his gaze turned skyward – thinking. His shirt has a mud stain on the right elbow and blood on the left shoulder blade, but it’s probably the cleanest he owns at this point. Because most of our clothes need scrubbing or were destroyed or claimed by Shadow. I’ve only kept the set I’m currently wearing. A duffle bag’s strapped behind the saddle on his new mount, with his sword secured on top. Not unlike my own – or Seth’s.
We secured Shade’s horse with Tan and his EquineSeed, borrowing a chestnut gelding for Roarke to ride to the White Castle. Which required a deposit of more coin than the mount is worth, but Tan is a businessman, and simply giving us a horse would have been pushing the friendship. His EquineSeed refused to budge on the price, and we weren’t going to try bargaining with the stunned babisqu.
Seth is barely on his horse, slumped forward and sleeping, his reins tied to the back of Roarke’s saddle to keep the creature on course. I let them continue drifting ahead, building some distance between us, enough to clear the air of their emotions. Threads, colors, scents. All the little pieces of information that seep from one living thing into the world around them – into me. Roarke’s bitter indecision and morning dew sorrow sit dormant beside the spiced apples of curiosity. Thinking. Considering. Moving through the world as if it’s a puzzle, possibly sent to torment him.
And most likely thinking about Shadow too.
And Seth… I wonder when I should mention to the ChaosSeed that there’s a tear in the ass of his pants?
The man shimmers just slightly with green, envy. Whatever he’s dreaming about, it’s drawing the emotion out in him. Not quite jealousy though, that one makes my eyes water.
An icy shadow slips from the collar of my hooded shirt, sliding over my sleeve, then weaving into the mane of my horse. A Veil creature. Its eyelids lower, almost closing over big eyes, as a soundless purr hums across its features. As if the mane offers a more than adequate scratch. I almost shoo the thing away. A week ago, I definitely would have.
One flick of my wrist and it would have been airborne and hurtling toward the bushes. If anyone has ever noticed my odd gestures, they’ve certainly not had the courage to say anything out loud.
But that was a week ago. Now I meet his inky eyes and frown.
Fleck.
Short for Reflection. Also short for Pain-in-my-damn-ass-that-came-through-the-Veil-and-won’t-go-back.
He rubs his cat-like back against the rough horse hair then leans back like a sprite and looks up at me. Lounging in a nest of mane. His outline made of too many shadows to properly define edges against the dark horse.
My life is Shadows.
And Darkness.
And emotions too. I’ve always had to deal with everyone else’s, but my own… I need a box to shove the things back into.
Fleck looks left and right, searching for something. Someone.
“She’s not here,” I rumble. I’m riding too far behind Roarke or the sleeping Seth for either of them to hear, but I keep my voice low and add more distance, just to be sure.
Fleck meets my gaze again, his eyes too big for his own good. Eyes designed to see and hunt in the dark, ashy world of the afterlife. The eyes of a predator.
But Shadow had called him ‘Cute.’
He glances again, searching for someone.
“If you miss her that much, you should have gone with her,” I snap.
He lifts his chin in defiance as though I was the one who made the stupid decision to come here and leave Shadow’s side.
“I had no choice,” I say. “You have a choice. You can go wherever you want, including back where you came from.”
His decidedly feline lips lift, baring translucent teeth.
I swat at him then, and he slips deep within the horse’s mane to avoid me.
“We have a more important job to do,” I mutter, lifting my gaze to the road.
Pax is her mate. Pax is with her. She’s fine.
My chest pangs, a half-formed golden bond stirring inside of me, but I concentrate and shut it down. Like slamming a door closed in someone’s face.
A bond is impossible. There are no more DarknessSeeds. I am not destined for a mate.
“And you can’t change that,” I say, looking suddenly down at where the creature has returned to his nest and begun turning in a tight circle to make himself comfortable.
He looks at my pointed finger then tilts his head to the side to look past it and up to my eyes.
There are no more of my kind. Just the same as there are no more AlphaSeeds, no more AllureSeeds, no more Chaos-fucking-Seeds.
I curl my finger into a fist.