Page 76 of The Iron Flower

“All right,” I tell him, drawing back from my intense attraction to him. “I’ll go with you.”

* * *

A few days later, Yvan and I set out for Keltania before dawn. We take a transit carriage toward the southwestern Spine, then disembark at an isolated stop and hike into the Verpacian wilds while the sun creeps over the horizon.

As we move deeper into the trees, I silently coax my fire lines into a steady, threatening blaze to keep the forest at bay and hurl the fire outward. Yvan’s back shudders before me, his head arcing back. He slows to a stop and turns around to cast me a feral look, his green eyes briefly flashing a fiery gold.

The very air feels charged, and for a moment, he seems to be on the verge of saying something. Then he looks away, and I can feel him holding back, struggling to rebuild the wall between us.

“We should keep moving,” I say, self-consciously aware that the words come out too breathlessly.

Yvan nods, and we resume our trek through the trees, both of us banking our fire power firmly down. Contained.

* * *

We reach the Southern Spine by midmorning, and my throat goes dry as I take in the sheer face of the mountain. It’s not quite as high as the Northern Spine, but it’s still impossibly steep, a mixture of long stretches of vertical rock and ice scattered with stubby pine trees and low brush.

Flying over the Northern Spine with Lukas on dragonback was terrifying enough, but I had his magic to ground me and tamp down my debilitating fear.

“Yvan,” I say, unable to control the vertigo that’s assaulting me as I look at the peaks. “I can’t do this. It’s too high.”

Yvan squints up at the imposing landform, hands on his hips. “You’ll be safe,” he says, his voice certain.

I shake my head vehemently. “I just don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry—”

“I’ll be carrying you,” he insists. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

I tense my brow at him, my heart slamming against my chest just fromthinkingabout climbing the Spine. “Nowmight be a good time for you to finally explain the exact nature of your mountain-climbing abilities,” I say nervously. “It would be encouraging to know that I’m not about to plummet to my death...”

I prattle on as he patiently waits for me to finish. Eventually, I grow quiet and closer to relenting. He has such an aura of calm authority about this.

“You won’t fall?” I press.

“No, Elloren,” he replies evenly. “I won’t.”

“Okay,” I agree, glancing up at the Spine again. “I’ll do it. For Marina.”

Yvan nods in understanding.

“So, how do you want to...” I begin, my voice trailing off awkwardly.

He peers up at the mountain again, as if gauging its difficulty. “Wrap your arms...around my neck.” He gestures toward his neck, his voice becoming slightly stilted.

“From...the back?” I wonder, my face warming. The dreams I’ve had about him flash uncomfortably through my mind.

“No,” he says, “from the front.”

I hesitate, then take a deep breath and step toward him, keeping a polite distance between us. I reach my arms out and rest my hands on his broad shoulders. My cheeks grow warm, my heartbeat kicking up.

I can tell he’s flustered by this, as well. I’ve a sense of him reining his fire tightly in, but chaotic tendrils break through. “Get as close to me as you can,” he directs formally. “As flat against me as you can.”

I take another deep breath and move right up against him, wrapping my arms tightly around his shoulders, my cheeks burning.

His long, lanky body stiffens against me as he wraps his own arms firmly around my back.

I try desperately not to think about how warm his body is, how good he smells. Like a midnight fire.

“Now wrap your legs around my waist,” he says tightly.

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