Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(57)

The time passes slowly. And hours later, when most of the kinsmen have retired for the night, I still haven’t gleaned anything useful.

A whistle pierces the night—?Cohen’s sign.

Hopefully he was able to get more information than I was. Moving from my hiding spot, I shimmy off the roof onto a tree and work my way down, slowly, silently, till my feet touch the ground. Thankfully, Enat returned my tunic and trousers for this excursion. I can only imagine how difficult scaling a tree would be in a dress.

Cohen and I agreed to meet at the edge of the village, close to the cliffs where the forest thickens. Though we may be near town for a few days, it’s safer to stay in the woods each night, where we would draw less interest than if we’d stayed at an inn. Sticking to the shadows, it takes some time to sneak unseen out of the city and to our hiding place.

When I arrive, he isn’t there.

I wait for him to come and begin pacing the woods when the seconds tick by too slowly. Perhaps the whistle belonged to someone else. Perhaps—?

Someone grabs me around my waist.

I screech and then twist to elbow my attacker, when he chuckles. It’s Cohen. I relax into his strong, warm hold for a moment before ducking out of his grip.

“Got you.” He grins at me. The sight of his wide smile steals my breath. I punch him in the gut. He takes the hit, folding over at his waist, and continues laughing silently. I wish we were always like this.

“Did you find anything?”

“They’re staying at the Silver Eel Inn.” Even though my eyes have adjusted to the forest’s canopy of darkness, when he moves back, it’s hard to see him clearly.

“What are they doing? When are they leaving?”

“I overheard mention of an ambush a few days ago. Half a troop of Shaerdanian men were slaughtered. From what I gathered, the chief judge and inner court have issued a call to all soldiers to report to their patrols. Since Omar is posing as a soldier, he won’t be able to sit still at the Silver Eel for long. Not without drawing suspicion.”

“But we don’t know how long they’ll risk staying in town. Surely they’re counting on the bounty to entice someone to talk.” At the thought of Captain Omar finding us again, my back itches, remembering the bite of the whip. “You really think they’ll be pressured into leaving?”

“I do.”

“You thought we were safe in Padrin,” I tell him.

He blows out a breath. “I thought we could trust Kendrick. Though I don’t fault him for what he did. He was thinking of his family. I cannot say I wouldn’t be tempted to do the same if I believed it was the only option. I suppose then you’re right to worry; the right incentive can turn any man into a liar.”

I think of my motivation in agreeing to hunt down Cohen and turn him over to the guards. And shame sneaks up on me at the thought. Motivation is a dangerous tool.

“Where should we camp?” I ask, needing a change of subject.”

I glance up to where the trees have parted way to the stars and draw in a steadying breath. I haven’t been alone with him since the kiss by the well, and I’m not sure how to broach the subject of what happened between us, so I gesture for him to lead the way.

We hike farther into the woods, where Siron meets us. I nearly jump when he passes; he’s an ink blot on black parchment. We travel until we can safely light a small campfire and no one will see it from the road.

The forest floor is thick with soft ferns that will make a good bed pad. While I’m flattening some ferns for myself, Cohen drops down next to me and works on his own spot. After he’s done, he pulls a small loaf of bread from his satchel, breaks it into pieces, and hands one to me.

As we eat, the silence grows barbs and claws, scratching away the easiness between us. It makes me long for the time when we used to be able to sit together in comfortable quietness.

“Britt.” The soft sound of my name on his lips brings goose bumps to my flesh. “About last night . . .”

I open my mouth. Close it. Open it, ready to give him an excuse for why it happened, but change my mind because, regardless of what I thought earlier, I very much want it to happen again.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Oh.

Never have I been more grateful for the darkness and shadows that cover us, for it cloaks the humiliation burning across my face. It masks the swift pain that burns in my eyes. I press my lips together.

I shouldn’t have kissed you. His words sweep any notions I might’ve had about him, or us, and push them to the furthest, unreachable corner of my mind.

Foolish, foolish heart.

“I’m glad you said something,” I say lightly, hoping to sound relieved, and praying he cannot hear the strain in my act. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. It was an exhausting day, and I wasn’t of sound mind.”

“Right.” He doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Yeah, I’m glad we talked too,” he finally adds. His confirmation cracks my chest and makes me feel like I’m shattering into a million misguided pieces.





Chapter

25


THE NEXT MORNING I’M WARM AND BLISSFULLY comfortable until I peel my eyes open and find myself curled into Cohen. Inwardly, I groan, frustrated to find us so close again and angered because his embrace feels so good. Boil him!