Page 66 of Reckless
“I don’t know,Silver Savior,” he says slowly, “you tell me.”
“I think it could pass for gray,” I argue.
He laughs. It’s deep and dark in a way I’ve come to recognize. “Your hair could pass for moonbeams before it passes for gray.”
“Careful,” I say slowly, “that almost sounded like a compliment.”
I hear him huff out a laugh. “Maybe I’ll give you a proper compliment if you can actually manage to guess correctly.”
I glare at the floor. “I’ve named every gray thing in here.”
“Obviously not.”
He pauses his sawing long enough to tug on the rope. I feel it loosen slightly around my wrists and sigh in relief. Not much longeruntil I’m free. “What could I have possibly missed?” I huff, lifting my head to scan the cell again.
“That stone over there,” he says casually, as though he doesn’t sound insane.
I try to bite my tongue for as long as possible. I really do. But before I can stop myself, I’m blurting, “I’m sorry, do you mean the stone on the other side of the cell that Ican’t see?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “That’s the one.”
“That’s completely unfair.”
“I told you to be specific,” he says slowly.
A frustrated sound climbs up my throat, to which he has the audacity to laugh at. Shockingly, I manage to keep my mouth shut, slouching silently with my arms being pulled back and forth. When my eyelids begin to grow heavy, he stops to test the strength of the rope.
“I’ll be able to break it now.” His voice is gruff, body begging for sleep. “We can rest until the guard gets back.”
Nodding, I sluggishly pull him back to the center of the cell and slide to the ground. “And then we’ll get out of here.”
“And then we’ll get out of here,” he repeats softly.
My head finds the back of his shoulder, slumping against him despite my best efforts. My body aches, every inch of my betraying being begging to curl up against him, to be held by him.
At my weakest, I wish for him. And at my strongest, I wish I could say it wasn’t the same.
He rests his head on mine, gentle and grounding. I hate that he feels like that. Feels like comfort incarnate.
“Can we pretend that it’s okay not to hate each other in these moments?” I ask quietly, if only to ease my conscience.
He sounds as though he might have laughed if he wasn’t so exhausted. “Yes. Pretend.”
I’m quiet until I’m not. “Do you regret any of it?”
His voice is soft, soothing. “Regret what?”
“Us?” A pause. “Regret what happened between us? Even the more recent things?” I whisper, recalling our moment of weakness on the rooftop.
He’s quiet for so long that I doze off, only waking when he murmurs, “Sleep, Little Psychic. Regret in the morning.”
I wake to the sound of groaning metal.
My eyes flutter open at the feel of Kai patting my lower back in warning. Through hazy vision, I watch the guard step into the cell, clutching a stale loaf. I blink awake, preparing for the plan that is about to unfold.
It all happens so quickly that I almost forget the part I’m meant to play. As soon as the guard bends to place the bread between us, Kai shifts his body and slips a foot beneath the tray. The metal meets the man’s face when the prince kicks it up, hard enough to hear the guard’s nose crack.
“Pull against me, Gray,” Kai grinds out, straining as he tugs at the severed rope still binding us together. I throw my body weight forward, nearly smashing my face into the stone wall when the rope snaps, setting my wrists free.
