Page 90 of Creatures that Breathe

“Don’t hold it against me, I’m not proud of it.” She slants her eyes to me, cautious, guarded. “I needed a distraction to aid in my escape of the palace.”

My mouth drops. “You burned down the royal library?”

“No!” She slaps my arm halfheartedly. “No, of course not. I lit one of Queen Vinia’s precious apple trees on fire.” She fiddles with her napkin. “It started a small chain reaction. The entire orchard burned as well as most of the library.”

This is not the time to be grinning, and yet. “My little pyro.”

“I didn’t mean to!” So obstinate, so embarrassed.

“My sweet darling, menace of a pyromaniac. You should really stop playing with matches.”

“It wasn’t my fault.” Her whole face has gone spring rose pink. “The orchard was freshly watered, meticulously cared for. It’s a miracle I even got the bark to light. How was I supposed to know it’d burst into flame and hopscotch from tree to tree?”

She’s exasperated. I’m laughing. “Vinia loves that garden more than her children.”

“I know,” she hisses.

I collapse back in my seat, undiluted pride racing through my veins. “Between the two of us, you’re the better criminal, pyro, and I’ve been accused of regicide.”

“So have I,” she retorts.

I laugh. So quick and clever. So fucking perfect with her fire happy fingers.

Fed up with my teasing, she shoves at me. I catch her hands in one of mine, yank her close until the only scents in the room are honeysuckle and rain.

She glares up at me from beneath white lashes, and deadpans, “I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

Me fucking too.

My fingers pulse on her thigh, and a low chuckle spills from my lips. I love her fierceness, her plans, her inability to be anything but the brightest thing in the room. “Every time I think you can’t impress me more, you prove me wrong.”

In another world, we could spend a lifetime laughing.

One wiggle of her wrists and I free her. Instantly, she straightens her back to face me, bringing our lips close. Too close. I lower my gaze to her mouth, and watch her lips part on a whisper of a breath. And all I think is how well the Fates did, selecting her for me. How being with her could make eternity feel short. “Leni.” A plea.

She pulls away, turns to her plate. “The point is, through no fault of my own, the information is no longer available. Not that there was much to begin with. None of the books could even depict a Phoenix.”

I can’t peel my eyes off her. Come back over here, I want to say. I don’t. Instead, I ask, “Let me guess, it’s a big red bird?”

“For someone who speaks Danish like a native, I expected more.” Flippant, wry. She tilts her head at me, all pompous.

My skin hums. “They weren’t fighters. I had no reason to learn about them. But now—” I wipe a hand across my mouth, half worried there’s drool. “If a Phoenix killed Kadmos, how would we even find one to question?”

“Question or torture?” she asks, voice suddenly hard. Defensive. A warrior for peace. “I said I’d help you, but I still won’t let anyone be harmed. Forgive me for not trusting Atlas to do what’s right.”

“He thought he was protecting us.” He was, technically.

“Protecting you, you mean. He was happy to tie me up and toss me to the Queensguard,” she reminds me, lips hovering on the edge of her beer.

The couple beside us stand abruptly, stumbling, bumping our table, giggling as they stagger to the doors, hands shoved in each other’s pockets.

Leni’s gaze chases them to the exit and I wake up. A drop in my stomach. The bar has cleared out, servers are trading breaks, the barbacks are catching up on dishes. Rags wait on empty tables.

I didn’t even notice.

Shit. I need to be better.

“We should leave—”

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