Page 49 of Burn

We launched toward each other. And so it went—her meticulous foresight versus my impulsive agility, her concentrated scowl against my exhilarated grin—until sweat drenched my bare torso and trickled down her low neckline, perspiration glazing the swale between her tits. Seasons fucking help me.

Sometime after midnight, Eliot and Cadence retired to their respective cabins, certain to pass out.

Briar and I disarmed in silence. All the whilst, I intended to wreak more havoc on her body—massage her aching muscles, draw us a shower from one of those delightful vista outposts that some ancient genius of a bygone era had installed, and then use my tongue to fuck away the princess’s agitation. Even before all that, I considered tossing her over my shoulder and racing up the nearest stairway. Strolling, stalking, striding, or anything considered average speed wouldn’t be quick enough.

But before I could snatch her against me, Briar set a palm on my chest. “Walk with me?” she whispered.

The plea worked on my reflexes like a mechanism. I threaded my fingers with hers and dove my free hand into her damp hair, the locks braided into a bun at the nape. “Anywhere,” I intoned. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

A shy grin wreathed across her face. “Even through a storm?”

“Aye. Typhoon. Monsoon. It doesn’t matter.”

“Even through a burning building?”

“Even then. Infernos are underrated. Just think of the ambient light.”

Her grin widened, then slumped abruptly, folding in on itself. “Even into a war?”

Looming over her, I snared Briar’s chin. “A thousand wars, sweeting.”

This whole time, from the firepit to the training session, she hadn’t wavered or lost her nerve. Like a well-groomed Royal, Briar had composed herself and performed her role. But with Eliot and Cadence gone, she did what I’d been waiting for her to do. My thorn let go.

On a tremulous sigh, she sank into me. My arms corded around her, cementing Briar in place as she wedged her face into my collarbones. “Will I die tomorrow?” she asked.

My soul caught fire, and I fastened her tighter to my frame. “So long as I live, you will too,” I hissed. “There were many times either of us could have died, and it didn’t happen, nor did it stop us.”

“We do not know if this plan shall work.”

“Hush,” I dismissed, speaking into her hair. “We’ll never know if any plot will work. Yet I like to think we have a decent track record.”

“Jesters are too confident for their own good.”

“That’s because you spoil my ego,” I quipped. “’Tis all your fault.”

Briar chuckled, but the mirth segued into a frightened noise. “Our last plan ended in bloodshed.”

“But with you standing and Nicu safe,” I reminded her.

She nodded, melting further as I cradled her. We said no more about it, and when her outtakes grew steady again, I whipped off my coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Come now, Highness,” I murmured. “You promised me a walk.”

The distraction worked. Armed with a purpose, Briar nestled into the coat and accepted my hand. We hiked into the treetops and navigated a labyrinth of bridges, platforms, and cabins tucked into the branches. Deep rich shades filtered through the darkness, pouring vibrant shafts of light across the planks and railings. Below, a noble stag with brass antlers strutted through the colony. Above, dewy cobwebs glistened like nets from the boughs. Although Briar played guide, I clasped her fingers and walked slightly ahead like a shield.

In the half-light, the trees brought another memory to the surface. I recalled that little stripling who’d worked for the Masters—the girl who’d called herself Somebody. Despite keeping most of her face concealed beneath that oversized cloak, I had noted the grainy patterns in her skin, reminiscent of bark.

After the courtyard battle, Somebody never returned, her whereabouts now a mystery. As I’d said to Briar back then, if we saw her again, that would be the girl’s choice.

Briar grew more animated. Along one of the gangways, she twisted and rested her back against the railing. “Since childhood, I’ve always wanted to see this place. Under different circumstances, of course.”

“Is that so?” I mused, gripping the banister on either side of Briar’s hips and caging her in. “You mean, you never planned on being a scandalous, felonious heiress? What a shame.”

Fondly, she shook her head. “Insolent devil. I think you’re controversial enough for the both of us.”

“Now you’re just being generous.”

“And you are not being remotely humble.”

I curled my nose in distaste. “Perish the thought.”

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