Page 56 of Between Smoke and Shadow

“You’re not,” I say.

My heart hammers so fast it’s hard to think of anything else. I am tempted to tell Harrick he’s beautiful too, but he probably would find it strange, unwarranted. He already knows he’s the most stunning man alive—he certainly doesn’t need aservanttelling him.

Still, I don’t want this moment to end. I can feel it slipping away, and I scramble for something to say before he decides to leave.

“When you kissed me in the training arena,” I say carefully. Harrick stiffens at my words, but I keep going. “Was it enjoyable? For you, I mean?”

“No,” he says. He may as well have punched me in the gut, but he’s quick to explain. “I hated myself the entire time. I knew I was scaring you, and I was sure you’d never talk to me again.”

“I understood.”

“I know,” he says. He studies my lips now, more brazenly than he has in the past. “I didn’t like that kiss, Rune, because you didn’t want it. But if you wanted me to…I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more.”

“I’ve never done it before,” I say. My voice shakes, and I’m sure it’s from my tumultuous pulse. “I’m probably terrible at it.”

“You couldn’t be,” he says. His eyes meet mine again, shadowed by a desperation I feel echoed in my most secret thoughts. “I wouldn’t care if you were, honestly. Just tell me to kiss you, Rune. Let me kiss you.”

I don’t know who I am or what’s become of me because I don’t even take a moment to think. I’m nodding before he’s finished speaking, saying, “please” as if this is my only chance.

He gently presses his mouth against mine, and he’s right. This kiss is nothing like the first. There’s no fear, no confusion. There is nothing panicked or reckless about his movements. He is slow and purposeful, lips delicately soft as they explore mine. He tastes me like he’s been desperate to, teeth grazing my lower lip, tongue meeting mine.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. His lips break away from my mouth, placing kisses across my jaw and down the sensitive skin of my neck. “So fucking perfect.”

His hands settle on my hips, tugging me closer. I’ve never done this before, but it’s as if my body was made for this moment. Forhim. I clutch his shoulders, digging my nails into the stiff fabric of his shirt. He hums in approval, and it’s all the confidence I need to slide my fingers up, up, up. His hair is softer than it looks, thicker too.

“Rune, you taste so fucking good,” he says. His voice is raspy, almost desperate, and when his mouth returns to mine, he runs his tongue along my lower lip.

I part for him, and he claims my mouth as if it’s always been his. I moan, and Harrick captures the sound with his kiss. His hands brush up and down my sides, never going too high or too low. I lean against him, silently begging him to do more. To touch me anywhere and everywhere he wants.

Unsteady gasps break from my throat, and it feels like I’ve forgotten how to breathe. I’m not sure I need oxygen at this point. I only need this,him, pressed against me with this overwhelming urgency. He’s unwinding me, devouring me, and I find myself desperate to be fully and wholly undone, so long as it’s by him.

By the time we finally pull back, my lips swollen and my heart racing, I meet Harrick’s eyes without hesitation. I can count five shades of violet, each more beautiful than the last. My pulse jumps as I wait for his next move, and I’m somehow bothrelieved and disappointed when he excuses himself to get a glass of water.

I slide beneath the covers, flipping the blanket down on his side too. Minutes later, he comes back into the room, eyebrows raised at my gesture. He doesn’t speak, letting the question hang silently in the air.

“You can sleep in the bed,” I say. “If you want.”

“You don’t mind?” he asks. He’s staring at me with such intensity, it’s impossible to look away.

“I don’t mind,” I say, when I really mean,I want nothing more.

Harrick crawls into bed, still wearing his slacks and shirt. We face each other, and even once Harrick turns off the light, I stare at him through the darkness. We don’t touch, but I eventually fall asleep to the steady sound of him breathing and wake with his arms wrapped around me.

We leavethe Wilds early the next morning. I’m sad to go, especially once I learn where we’re headed. The City of Mirrors was my home for eight cycles, but it’s not somewhere I long to return. If I ever escape the Tower, it’s where I’ll end up. Not because I’ve missed it, but because it’s the only place I can realistically survive.

It’s where all the rebels will go. Between the City’s crumbling buildings and its rabid hunters, it’s by far the cheapest sector in Savoa. Most commoners live there too, making it the easiest place to avoid capture. It’s also the most depressing, so a part of me wishes we could skip it. I’m not sure how long our journey will last, but I would much rather see the Pit or the Reaping Grounds than the decrepit and impoverished City.

It doesn’t really matter where we’re going though. I’m still struggling to grasp that Harrick is taking me anywhere at all. He sits beside me in our carriage, head tipped back and eyes closed in the image of perfect contentment. Meanwhile, I watch the Deadlands pass through the carriage window, tryingnotto think about our kiss.

I fail. My entire body feels like it’s pulsing with exposed nerves. Flickers of last night invade my every thought: how he touched me, held me, made me feel like I was beautiful and important. He kept looking at me like whatever was happening between us mattered, and I’m still not sure what to make of it.

I know I should just enjoy this while it lasts, but I can’t help mourning the inevitable end.

I shake my head and stand, crossing the small space to look through the window. Outside, the sun scorches against the endless expanse of dry black stone. The air seems to bend with the outrageous heat, and even in here, the oxygen feels too thin. I’m convinced I might suffocate, even as I’m breathing.

“Are the horses all right?” I ask. I can just see ours from here. Because the Deadlands don’t have magic, we needed animals to pull our carriages. They must be fatigued, dehydrated.

“Yes,” he says. His eyes are open now, and I’m unsurprised to find him watching me. I took my mask off as soon as we were alone, and his wide smile made me wish I could leave it off forever. “They’ve made this journey many times. I’ll make sure they’re well attended once we get to the City.”

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