Page 8 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

“With a pointy stick?” He arched a brow and a smirk tugged at his lips. “What is a young woman doing out here alone, with no weapon, rope marks around her neck, injuries that by all accounts tell me you should be dead, and one broken handcuff?” the god asked, his voice deep and husky.

His breath was sweet with brin fruit, and this close, Zylah could make out the honey-coloured flecks in his eyes.So this is how it ends. Sucked in by a god’s eyes and handsome face. Think, Zy.

Before she could reply, he placed a hand around her cuffed wrist, and it clicked open beneath his touch. He cast the cuff aside and took a step back. Zylah felt the cold rush back in, ignored the treacherous thoughts that she wanted to feel his body heat again just so she wouldn’t freeze to death, and rubbed at her wrist.

She held his gaze, summoning a shred of the confidence that she knew was quickly disappearing. “What is a god doing out here, talking to a young woman, who by all rights most definitelyshouldbe dead, and is very much hoping to live?” There was no point in trying to deny anything. He’d have taken one look at her and known she was on the run. Did gods punish mortals for escaping death?

He didn’t answer, just laughed and folded his arms across his chest again. It was a gesture that had already started to grate on her.

“A god?” he asked, huffing out a breath. “I’ve never been called that before.”

Zylah’s cheeks flushed.If not a god, then what?She took a step back, trying to make it look as she had when she was a child, as if she were adjusting her balance, just awkward on her feet. Her wet hair dripped down her back and she was certain, if she could see it, the ends would already have turned to icicles. She didn’t let go of her stick though.

“I’m no god,” he said softly. “But I’m someone you can’t outrun. And someone who’s had a lot more practice at evanescing than you.”

“Evanesce? You mean the travelling?” She looked up at him, hating that she had to tilt her head up so much to meet his gaze, hating that he already knew more about her than she did. “I only discovered I could do it yesterday.”

“This also happened yesterday, I take it?” He waved a hand at her neck and face, and his expression seemed to darken.

Zylah reached up instinctively, rubbing at the tender skin around her throat and thought of the moment the trapdoors had opened. She nodded. If she hadn’t been with him, whoever he was, she’d have taken a moment to close her eyes, to steady herself. She pulled her hand away and smoothed down the front of her apron to hide her trembling.

Think, think, think.

“Did anyone see you on your way here?” he asked, tilting his head towards the cliff that stretched up to one side of them.

“One guard. By the beacon,” Zylah said. She could have lied, but what was the point? It wasn’t going to get her out of this.

His eyes narrowed, his head tilting back to look up the cliff face as if he could hear something. “They’re coming for you,” he breathed, snatching her wrist in his hand.

Zylah didn’t have a chance to object, didn’t have time to shake him off. The world spun, and she knew at once that he had evanesced them both.

Chapter Five

Zylah’s feet landed in snow and she swore under her breath as it soaked through her shoes. They were part of her palace uniform and absolutely useless for anything outside of the lavishness of Arnir’s palace. Her wet hair was far worse though, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she bit back nausea from the evanescing. He’d evanesced themboth. How?

“Why are you helping me?” she asked as her teeth chattered together.

A few snowflakes had landed on the god-not-a-god’s eyelashes and Zylah found herself thinking about how ridiculously long and thick they were. Gods above, the cold had really got to her.

He held her gaze for a moment until his eyes dropped to her arms wrapped around herself. “We need to keep moving,” he said and grabbed her wrist again.

Shit. He was so fast, she didn’t have a chance to duck out of the way. If not a god, then what? He looked like a human.

A witch, maybe?

The world spiralled around them before it stopped, and Zylah stumbled into snow again, the man’s hand tighter around her wrist.

This time, she didn’t hesitate, she spun around, swinging her elbow up to meet with his jaw. It wasn’t as hard as she’d have liked, thanks to his outrageous height, but it was enough to take him by surprise and for him to release her wrist.

“What was that for?” he asked, running a hand over his jaw, his eyes narrowing.

Zylah rubbed at her wrist, still bruised from the iron cuffs. “You were hurting me.”

His eyes flared for a moment, and realisation seemed to sink in. “I… I’m sorry. We can’t stay here. The King’s Guard patrols the forest.” He reached out a hand for her, waiting.

Zylah tilted her head to one side, listening. The forest was quiet, melting snow dripped off branches, ferns rustled nearby and—there. The thunder of hooves in the distance. She looked to the man’s outstretched hand, to the honey flecks sparkling in his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” She reached for his hand, irritated by how small hers was in his.

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