Page 88 of The Arrow and the Alder

“How did you get in?” he asked.

Seph opened her palm, revealing the slender pieces of metal, and she smiled sheepishly. “I…hope you’re not angry.”

He studied those little pieces of evidence, and the smallest smile touched his lips as he whispered, “Furious.”

Their gazes met—held.

“But why did you come?” he asked after a moment.

He sounded sincerely curious, but they were so close, the setting so intimate, with all his heat wrapped around her like the blanket he now wore, that it made it difficult for her to remember why she’d come in the first place.

Seph’s cheeks warmed as she said, “I wanted to thank you. For earlier. With the coat, and…I suppose I wanted to apologize too. For ignoring your caution.”

His gaze moved over her features, and there was an expression on his face that Seph couldn’t read. Still, it made her feel flush all over. “You know, you’re doing such an excellent job atnothating me these past few days, I might almost believe you don’t.”

“I am a woman of my word.”

“So you are.” His gaze held hers again, that invisible string between them tightened, and Seph had the strangest sensation that she was falling.

Alder turned his face away. “You should go,” he said roughly.

It was as if the string snapped and whipped back to slap her in the face. She knew he was right, and she sensed he didn’t want to risk hurting her again, but the words still felt like rejection. Which was ridiculous, considering she was determined to not want him.

Seph stood with a little more vigor than intended, which caught Alder’s attention. He looked up as she turned and walked away from him, toward the door.

“Josephine.”

Seph stopped. Her legs were trembling, as if physically straining from the tension she’d created by walking away. She swallowed hard, but she didn’t turn.

A breath passed. Seph’s pulse pounded.

“Thank you. I…” He hesitated, then seemed to make up his mind about something. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She let herself through his door, feeling his eyes on her back every step of the way.

Seph returned to her room in a daze, her thoughts whirring. She couldn’t shake the strong and irrational desire to go back to Alder. It was like a physical pull that increased with every step she took away from him. He was dangerous. Sheshouldbe walking away, but instead her mind kept replaying those quiet and final moments when he’d looked at her as no one had ever looked at her before.

She’d let Alder rest tonight—and saints knew she needed space to sort through her feelings—but tomorrow, she’d ask him for the whole truth.

No, she woulddemandit.

Seph opened her door, and she was just stepping inside when she felt the slightest press upon her chest, the brush of anothereloit.

She wasn’t alone.

Lord Massie was sitting at her desk with his legs stretched before him, his face a contrast of shadow and sharp angles, while his lips twisted cruelly. “Well, hello, princess. I was wondering when you’d return.”

Hands grabbed her from behind.

Seph bucked on instinct, and her assailant gasped in pain. She whirled for the door only to find herself face-to-face with a bone-masked kith. He reached for her, but she wriggled out of his grasp, and she was just praising her fortune when a second bone-masked kith kicked out a leg.

She tripped and fell flat on her back, landing right before Massie’s black boots.

“Oh, no, no,” he said smoothly, gazing down at her. “I know better now.”

A cloth pressed over her nose, smelling of mint and something else she couldn’t name, and her world went dark.

Seph opened her eyes, feeling momentarily disoriented. Light gleamed faintly from somewhere ahead, though she couldn’t quite make it out, and her head pounded with every heartbeat.

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