Sorcha studied the earth she knelt in. Dead leaves dusted with snow, bare trees rising around them. A normal winter. A softer place than the one they’d escaped. She got to her feet, not waiting for him or expecting he would help her. But he caught her arm halfway up, coming close again.
This time she saw it in his face, a promise in his dark eyes. He would have kissed her, had wanted to there in the leaves and winking rubies, surrounded by dead trees.
Sorcha leaned toward him, wanting him to keep his promise, and reached out to place a hand on his chest.
“Do it,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”
It was her own promise, her own dare. He focused on her mouth—hungry and wanting. If he kissed her here, it would all change. Would it be a change she could handle? She wasn’t sure. But she wanted it anyway.
Adrian covered her hand with his own, staring into her eyes.
And that was how Thompson found them, locked in a private moment, a scene that made them look like lovers. But the hard truth was that they were far from it—captive and captor, monster and temple girl. Despite her desire, despite the wish to change it.
Sorcha could feel Thompson’s sharp surprise and heavy suspicion—anger glowed in his eyes. Adrian took Sorcha’s hand and carefully, deliberately, removed it from his chest. She let it fall limp at her side.
“Coward,” she whispered.
* * *
The creature’s howls had reached the men waiting above the sinkhole. Revenant, Thompson, and Domenico had ridden down to search for Adrian. They’d found Nox waiting calmly at the bottom and then split up to search the woods.
Domenico had come forward to claim the relic and wrap it in velvet. His eyes briefly met Sorcha’s, an expression of understanding in them. It vanished as Revenant approached, flipping the velvet back to glance at the bone.
“A femur.” He turned to Adrian. “How many more?”
“Two more,” Thompson replied. “Then we meet Prince Eine in the Wastes.”
Sorcha snapped her head around, searching the man’s face for more information. This was the first time he’d said where they would end up. Where they might be taking the relics. The wastes? What wastes? Where?
“We should go,” Domenico said, taking the bone to his horse and securing it to the saddle.
“Yes,” Adrian agreed.
He motioned for Sorcha to follow him and accepted Nox’s reins from Revenant. The two stared at each other for a long moment, some silent communication happening that Sorcha could not understand. Then Adrian grabbed her, shoving her into the saddle before she could protest, and mounted up behind her.
* * *
They rode well past dusk. The horses picking their way slowly through scraggly trees. In the distance, a wild dog yelped, and one nearby answered. Nox turned his head toward the sound and snorted. It was obvious the horses needed rest, but Adrian wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the sinkhole. He wasn’t in a hurry to meet whatever lived at the bottom of it again.
Sorcha hunched over Epona, exhausted but without protesting the pace he set. She’d been more than willing to relinquish the relic to Domenico. She’d practically forced it into his arms. What had she seen that had frightened her so badly? He wanted to ask, and maybe he would.
The afternoon played through his mind. Sorcha in the meadow beyond the hands, wading through a field of flowers—red dress, white lacy flowers, blue sky. Then the moment in the winter wood, on their knees in the dirt, rubies glimmering around them. Her hand on his chest, heat in her gaze.
Kiss me.
Coward.
Adrian had almost kissed her. But there couldn’t be a repeat of the other night. It had been a mistake. He couldn’t allow emotion to cloud his judgment. His role in the empire was set. For now. That traitorous voice slipped through again. But he couldn’t let himself consider what might come after this was over.
He tried not to watch her as they rode, aware that his men were paying attention. Thompson would have told them how he’d discovered Adrian and Sorcha by now. Adrian had no doubt how the Tomeis’ would feel about the situation.
When they’d reached the top of the sinkhole, Sorcha had slid from Nox before Adrian could help her down. She’d crossed to Epona in quick, sure strides and threw herself into the saddle without a backward glance. Her anger and frustration had been palpable. But between then and now, she’d grown cold toward him. He should be grateful. Sorcha was a temptation he must resist.
Who was he? Adrian returned to this question again and again. Prince Eine would be furious to learn that his heartless monster had retained a shred of his heart. Sorcha was to serve one purpose for the Empire.
But... the thought began. Stop. He couldn’t let himself think of it.
* * *