Page 65 of Wilds of Wonder
“You’re welcome,” I said as he grabbed one of my hands and heaved me up. We both slumped down, sitting back-to-back, legs hanging over the side. “Also, I win.”
“I’ll let you have this one, only because you saved my life,” he said, voice weary.
“I’d say we’re even now.”
The sprites’ flames disappeared as they dove deeper down, so far below I truly wondered if there was a bottom to this place. When they finally did hit the bottom, they’d realize the book wasn’t actually missing.
“How long do you think it’ll take them to search for that thing?” the bone collector asked, leaning his back against mine.
“Long enough for us to rest before climbing back down.” I stretched my arms overhead, cracking my neck.
I could feel the hard muscles of his back, the broadness as it stretched against mine. I looked down to see dust shimmering on the pedestal where we perched. Red and glittery. I swiped a finger over it, wondering if it had come from the sprites. I hadn’t seen dust like this before, and I was about to ask the bone collector about it, when he spoke.
“Twice now we’ve almost gotten killed. Why do I feel so exhilarated by that?”
I reached behind and nudged him in the ribs with my elbow. “Maybe it’s in us to be thrill seekers. Sometimes I think I love the pursuit, the chase, as much as I love actually getting the artifacts.”
He smelled like sweat and embers, and I took a deep inhale of it.
“What’s your favorite part of it all?” He shifted, his back rubbing against mine.
I stayed silent.
“What? Is that too personal, little rabbit?”
“I’m thinking, you ass.”
He chuckled, and the sound rumbled down me, vibrating into my skin.
I looked down at the thick leather-bound book in my lap. “Don’t get me wrong, I love exploring, traveling to dangerous places, not knowing what I’m going to face. But this.” I held up the book, even though he couldn’t see me. “This is my favorite part. The potential. What I’m going to learn from this. Not just from reading it but from studying the writing, the ink used, the type of parchment, the binding. There’s so much story here. A story I get to unfold.”
“Wow.”
“What?” I said, wondering if I got too carried away.
“That’s it. The potential. That’s my favorite part too.” He paused. “So what do you do with all these items you collect? Do you just hoard them away, plan to sell them off on the black market.”
“You insult me.” I scoffed, then swiped the back of my hand over my soaked brow. “If you really want to know, I would love to open a museum one day. A place where I can offer this knowledge for free. Funded by the frost court so any citizen who wants to learn can do so.” I waited for the sarcastic response, for him to tell me it was never going to happen, but he didn’t.
“You’re just full of surprises, little rabbit.”
I wasn’t the only one. The more we talked, got to know each other through these challenges and our notes, the more I was beginning to realize the bone collector might be more like me than I ever realized. In a world where I’d always felt so alone, he made me feel like I had someone. And that was terrifying.
Chapter Thirty-Two
MAVERICK
My mind should have been reeling over the events that had just occurred. It should have been reeling over the fact that a wolf changed into a man right in front of us, and then said wolf told us he was cursed like it meant nothing at all. My mind should have been focused on the fact that Aron and this El couldn’t be trusted, that we shouldn’t have been following them away from the ruins and toward a “safer” area like Aron claimed. My thoughts should’ve been centered on every single one of those things, and more, but instead all I could think about was Emory. When I’d cupped her cheek with my hand in that crypt, she’d reacted, curled into my touch. Like maybe she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
I couldn’t deny it. Not anymore. I’d tried to keep my distance, I’d tried to tell myself that whatever I felt for her was impossible. Then I’d seen those bruises on her neck, and I knew that I would burn this world if it meant keeping her safe. I’d burn this world for her. And I’d enjoy doing it.
She wasn’t a murderer after all, and guilt speared me that I’d ever thought she was. She was right. I might not have known her name or herface, but through the years, through her notes and our encounters, I’d known her.
That was the problem, in the end. I was the problem. I’d done the same thing to my sister. I hadn’t had faith in her, and it had ultimately been my fault she ended up here. Just like it had been my fault Emory ended up here. Yes, she chose to come after me, but that was because she needed that bolt to bargain for her freedom. If I’d stood up for the white rabbit, gone to the frost queen directly and pleaded her case, the whole thing could’ve been taken care of, and Emory wouldn’t be here in danger.
But I’d put my career first. Helped her escape in secret instead of going directly to the queen and risking losing my position. I scrubbed a hand down my face.
Aron, Driscoll, and El walked ahead of me. Aron had told us it would be better to get to safety before we talked any further.
