Page 77 of The Iron Flower

What?This is just too much. We’re not fasted. This type of thing is completely forbidden.

“Elloren,” Yvan says with effort, “I know this is...awkward. But I can’t support you if your feet are dangling in the air. I need to be able to move freely. I know it’s...highly improper.”

“That’s an understatement,” I say, letting out a nervous laugh, but I move to do as he asks. I take a deep breath and pull at his neck and shoulders, hoisting myself up at the same time he reaches beneath me to support my weight. I wrap my legs around him, my thighs coming to rest just above his hip bones.

My heart is thudding with heated force against my chest, and I can feel his doing the same.

“Now, hold on tight and stay as still as you can,” he tells me. “And...you might want to close your eyes.”

I nod silently into his sharp shoulder and screw my eyes shut.

His grip on me tightens and his fire ripples through me, hot and strong. The skin of my back prickles with a sweeping heat that courses through my fire lines and makes me shiver.

Yvan starts to move, the muscles of his neck and shoulders tensing against my hold as he leaps up, steadily and effortlessly. I can feel his strength, his grace as his arms and legs move around me, and I quickly abandon all shyness to cling tightly to him for dear life.

I don’t dare open my eyes or think about how much slick ice coats the Spine as we ascend at what feels like breakneck speed. Instead, I try to remember complicated apothecary formulas. I silently recite the names of different constellations. I think about the steps of making a violin in sequence and try to visualize them all.

After a while, an icy wind picks up, and the sounds around us are different—open and stark. I realize we must be quite high above the trees.

Then our orientation changes, and I feel Yvan’s hands beneath my thighs, steadying me. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, and I nod into his shoulder.

“We’re at the top,” he says, keeping a tight hold on me as wind whips against us. “The view is beautiful.”

I open my eyes slightly, glimpsing a dazzling blue sky above. He turns and hoists me up a fraction so I can see the view over his shoulder, and I gasp with wonder.

We’re on a bare outcropping of rock, the wilds past the Southern Spine splayed out before us. The villages of Keltania are tiny and still far off, the land snow-dusted and glittering in the sunlight. It’s so spectacular, and I should be freezing, but I’m not at all. Yvan’s so decadently warm.

I close my eyes again when we begin the descent, an almost vertical drop. After a while, the sharp smell of pine trees grows stronger, and before I know it, Yvan’s stepping onto level ground.

“We’re down, Elloren.” His lips brush against my neck as he says it, warm and soft.

I open my eyes to see a thick pine forest surrounding us. Yvan loosens his hold on me as I drop my feet to the ground. I untwine my arms from his neck and step back, instantly missing his warmth as the cold snakes in under my cloak.

But more than the warmth, I miss being so close to him.

“So, what are you, Yvan?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light. “Mountain Goat Fae?”

He smiles slightly at my joke, but then his expression turns pained.

“Yvan, is it really that bad?” I ask gently.

He doesn’t answer, but the anguished look that momentarily passes over his face fills me with concern for him. Whatever it is, itisthat bad, and he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

At least not with me.

Yvan averts his eyes, his face tensing. “We should be on our way. Andras will have the horses waiting for us. And we’ll want to reach Lyndon before dark.”

I nod in agreement, and we continue on, side by side, winding through the trees, our arms bumping against each other every now and then. Every time it happens, a zing of heat trickles through my fire lines, and we give each other a hesitant smile, and I resist the urge to take his hand.

My mind wanders back to the night we freed Naga. I remember how Yvan touched my face; how it seemed like he wanted to kiss me. And that night by her cave, when we recklessly let our fire power rush toward each other. In those rare moments, it was as if his true self finally emerged. And for a brief moment earlier, when we were wrapped around each other climbing the Spine, it felt like that again.

Feeling reckless, I let my hand lightly bump into Yvan’s and hook a finger around his. He inhales sharply, and I feel the hard flare of his fire power as he shoots me a heated look.

Then he twines his fingers wordlessly through mine.

* * *

Eventually, we come to the end of the wilds, and I can hear the sound of male voices mixed with horses snorting and whinnying up ahead.

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