“I need.. a break,” I huffed with each footfall.
Ivan stepped over broken branches, his strides large as he quickly maneuvered through the dense foliage. Not a bead of sweat dripped from his temples. “We need to reach Arilyn before nightfall.” His back faced me as he continued, leaving me further behind in the thick canopy.
We’d traversed through Lost Woods quickly, the mist curling at our heels as I’d stuck close to Ivan. I didn’t want to get lost, especially if he was going to rescue Moria. Separating from him now would be utterly stupid.
He’d explained the mist to me, but it sounded like ancient casting garbage as I’d blocked most of his talking out. The only thing he told me to do was stare ahead—to not let my eyes venture in the forest. It had been quite easy to stare at him, a beacon of black in a sea of white.
I was glad to be rid of the stuff though. Being trapped in aforest aimlessly walking didn’t sound appealing… as did now, the muscles in my legs tightening.
“I need a break,” I rasped. “Now.” If we didn’t stop, my legs would buckle either way.
Turning around, his jaw tightened, his eyes settling on the sorry state of me as I bent over. My hands rested on my shaking knees as I inhaled the musky air.
“Fine,” he said after assessing me from head to toe. “Ten minutes, that’s it,” he muttered. “We won’t stop again.”
I collapsed at the words, my legs buckling underneath me as I shucked the pack from my shoulders. I didn’t move for a while. Not until my chest stabilized, and the blurred lines of my vision faded into nothing.
Prying open the dirt-stained pack, I rummaged through the multiple pockets until my fingers found the wrapped sandwich Gwen had prepared for me. Prying back the linen fabric, I stuffed half of it into my eager mouth as my stomach whispered a quiet thank you.
Ivan’s gaze lingered on mine. He took a swig from his muted green canteen. “You tire easily,” he said, his eyes narrowing on my still-shaking legs.
Chewing on bread, meat, and cheese, I glared. “You try being chained in a cell for years and see how well your legs do.”
He looked at me, but those silver eyes darted as they focused on my hand—at the jagged scar running from my knuckle to the entire inside of my middle finger. “What happened there?”
I took another bite as the bread clung to the roof of my mouth. “None of your business.”
His brows furrowed. “I was trying to engage in polite conversation.”
“Poorly,” I added. “Most conversations start with askinghow are you or nice weather. Not how someone obtained their scars.”
He took another swig, a few droplets of water trickling down his stubble. “Would you like me to ask how you are?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
A few birds chirped in the distance as the wind carried their trills through the bending trees.
His chiseled jaw tightened before he leaned back, the light illuminating his skin. “Well, half-breed, how are you?”
“Terrible,” I said. “I’ve been kidnapped by a Fae prick who asks me details of my scars.”
Ivan whistled. “Sounds terrible.”
“Absolutely.”
He chuckled, his chest rising with the movement. “But in all seriousness, how did you get the scar? It didn’t heal properly. It’s far too jagged.”
I tossed the empty fabric into my pack. “If you mustknow, I gave food to a boy. The guards caught me stealing and they broke it as retribution, along with the boy’s neck,” I answered. “Moria used a sharpened rock to cut into my flesh. Without resetting the bone, it could have caused permanent damage.”
He remained silent for a moment. “She used a rock to cut into your finger?”
“It’s all we had.” I pointed to the scars on his hands. “Your turn.”
His eyes darted away as his hand rested atop his bent knee. Scars, pink and jagged, covered the entirety of his hands from fingernail to wrist. They were horrific anddeep.
He remained silent before nodding toward the forest. “Ten minutes are up.”
I pointed to his hand, his fingers curling ever so slightly. “That wasn’t even ten minutes! You’re deflecting from answering?—”