Page 85 of Edge of the Wild

“Yes…”

She took a deep breath. “Amelia isn’t afraid to take hold of what she wants, because she’s the brave sister, and I’m…” Shedidturn her head, then. It felt brave, even if it was only a small thing.

They were closer than she’d anticipated.Muchcloser.

His breath was warm on her lips, and smelled of peppermint. His face was as blurred, up close, as her imaginings had been, and it would be all too easy, oh so easy…to lean that last distance.

“I–” he started.

And she closed the gap.

His lips were cold, but soft – softer than she’d expected. He held still, frozen as one of the garden statues around them. Shocked by her – she was more than a little shocked herself.

But she didn’t want him to be. She wanted him to want her, as she wanted him, and so she recalled something Lord Reginald had done, the day that seemed so long ago now, before the tourney, when he’d stolen a kiss behind the grandstands. He’d slipped his tongue between her lips, a shocking dart of heat. She steeled herself, and did the same.

His lips were cold, but the inside of his mouth was hot, and tasted strongly of mint. The heat of it, the taste, sent a wild thrill down her spine.

Too much, it had to be too much – she couldn’t believe her daring.

But then he gasped against her lips, and his hands found her face, cupped her jaw, andhewas kissingher, suddenly.

He’s done this before, she thought, distantly, as his tongue slid over hers.He’s very good at it.

She closed her eyes, and opened to him–

And a wash of blue flashed behind her eyelids.

She blinked, and she was no longer seated on the bench, kissing Rune. She didn’t know where she was – only that she was standing, and blue light gleamed off jagged points of ice. Before her, an irregular, yawning abyss. It looked…it looked like the mouth of a cave, larger and more sinister than the caves her brother had talked her into exploring as a girl. She could still remember Oliver trying to discourage them – “I once read an account of a man who slipped down into a crack in the back of a cave and died of starvation there; they couldn’t pull him out.”

The old, remembered words seemed to echo inside her head. She turned. “Ollie?”

A voice answered – but not a human one. It rumbled, and growled, androared.

She blinked again, and saw blue again – but a washed-out, pale blue, scudded with streaks of white. The sky.

Rune’s face appeared above hers, creased with worry, his dark hair sliding over his shoulder and spilling around her like curtains, until his frantic eyes were all he could see.

“Tessa? Tessa, gods, are you all right? Are you sick? Did I…” Hesitantly: “Did I hurt you?”

“I…” Her brain felt sluggish, thoughts indistinct and slippery.

“Tessa?” He touched her face, and then flinched back. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have – I didn’t think–”

He thought he was to blame, somehow, and she couldn’t stand for that.

“No,” she managed, “no, it’s…I’m…I saw something. There was – it was blue.”

He frowned. “What was blue?”

“I don’t know. I think…I think Ollie was there.”

Rune’s brows shot up. “All right. You’re going to see Olaf.”

~*~

Amelia had slept poorly. After another (slightly less) excruciating dinner with Lord Reginald and his mother, and her own (slightly less) hostile mother, Malcolm had slipped into her room past midnight, when the rest of the house was asleep. He hadn’t stayed, after; even if Katherine didn’t loathe her, and didn’t seem to be holding a grudge, there was no sense courting more disapproval. Alone in bed, she’d tossed and turned until the small hours, when she’d finally dressed for the day.

They were scouting again, today, in the Inglewood, and every stifled yawn, every over-long blink proved she wasn’t alert enough for that task.

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