Page 64 of The Flame and the Forsaken

It didn’t hurt that he was naked. And obnoxiously stunning.

Over the past week, the barricade between them had been dismantling. They’d fallen into a smooth rhythm, dividing some chores and doing others together, adhering to a schedule that helped establish needed structure. With her ankle on the mend, she could do more every day. She taught him how to craft a bow from branches and boar guts, and he taught her how to repair his fish traps. Her skill with tanning hides into leather proved useful, and he showed her exactly how he’d carved the spears. Even when they’d parceled their tasks between them, they followed each other, never apart for long.

They truly could be anyone they wanted there, and she knew who she wanted to be... who she wanted him to be.

“Your first time washing clothes, I ken?” Mariel teased, jumping sideways just in time to avoid him swatting her bare ass.

He gingerly draped her blouse over the line and turned toward her. Mariel conjured what little remained of her self-control not to look down. “At home, of course not. At sea, we had a sailor whose secondary job was to take care of the washing for all the men.”

Mariel made a gagging face. “You all must have hated him, sending him to manhandle all your filthy skivvies.”

Erran chuckled. “Believe me, there are worse jobs on a ship.” His tongue parted his lips, and he swept his gaze over her. “Ready to test my soap?”

Mariel was certainly looking forward to cavorting with him in the river after an afternoon of chores, but she had serious doubts about the semi-hard goop he had in his satchel. She’d made soap herself when gold was scarce, but they’d had the tools to do so. Erran had fashioned his from the boar’s fat, boiling down half-burned wood ashes from the fire pit to make lye and adding the cursed dandelions in a hopeful but ultimately failed attempt to mask the crude scent of the tallow.

A twinkle in his eyes gave him away. He kissed her and bolted for the river, calling back, “Last one in gets to try it first!”

“I don’t feckin’ think so, you cheater!” she shrieked and raced after him, overtaking him just as they reached the bank. Her feet collected the first splash, and she was so occupied with whooping and hollering her victory, she didn’t notice him come up from behind, lacing his arms under her into a sweeping scoop. She squealed as her feet kicked up and he dipped her head toward the river.

“Say that again?” he said, dangling her over the water.

“Let me down, or?—”

“Orwhat, you’ll make me work for it like the other night? Go on then, Mariel, because I love the challenge.”

Mariel squirmed, lifting her head just enough to see the river beneath her. Once, years ago, she’d found herself bound and upside down in a barn after a particularly spicy heist, and there’d been no one but herself to get her out of the precarious situation. When the others had asked her later how she’d done it, she’d said,What kind of brigand would I be if I wasn’t also an aerialist?

With Erran, she was in no danger of anything except getting ravaged, which was exactly the danger she craved. So she swung herself as hard as she could, catching him off guard enough to secure her release. She’d planned for an elegant landing and a theatrical bow, but what she actually executed was a flat-bellied splash that stung from head to toe.

Erran was doubled over in laughter when she pulled herself to her feet. “You... You cannot have meant to do that.”

“Shows how little you know me, princeling, because it wasexactlywhat I intended.” Mariel pushed her matted hair from her face, blowing to catch the wet strays. “Don’t be jealous. If you’re nice, I can teach you.”

Erran moseyed over. He slid his hands down her arms and locked them around her back, snapping her close. “Oh, I know you well. And I have endless days and nights to learn everything you don’t want me to.”

Mariel lifted to kiss him. “Who says I don’t want you to?”

She squeaked a startled gasp when he hoisted her into his arms. “I know you prefer to be a mystery.” He locked his mouth to hers in a drawn kiss, and it sang through her veins. “My little mystery.”

One reason Mariel hadn’t seriously allowed herself to dream of love was because she refused to be a man’s property. But every single time Erran used such claiming language—my, mine—her body, mind, and heart came into perfect unison. “Solve me then,” she said in challenge and let him sweep her farther into the river, into the web of safety and imagination they’d spun together.

Erran hadone hand wrapped in a root at the river’s edge, the other looped around Mariel to keep her in place. Her head was nestled to the crook of his neck, and the feeling was so... so unexpectedlyrightthat he was reluctant to leave the moment behind. He’d happily grow old and pruned there with her, watching the years pass with peace in his heart.

A fortnight ago, it seemed inconceivable that he could ever see the island as home, see Mariel as his partner. How it had all changed so fast was something he didn’t question though. Doing so would let the darkness in and the light a chance to escape.

“Our clothing is likely dry by now,” she said wistfully.

He smiled at the regret in her voice. But the day was waning, dusk soon to follow. They couldn’t take the risk of being so exposed when darkness fell. “I ken it could use a few more minutes.”

Mariel snuggled tighter against him and nodded.

Erran closed his eyes and let his breath flow smoothly in... out. His heart was as still as it had been since they’d washed up on Feck-All Island. But on occasion, one thought slipped in, a hint of the darkness awaiting them if they were ever rescued. “I need to say something.”

Her breathing slowed. “All right.”

“I know why you did what you did. I can’t blame you. I even commend you.” He let his words land, so she would better understand and accept the next ones. “But if my father ever found out, he would kill you.”

Mariel snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

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