The Rebels of Gold (Loom Saga #3)(125)

“Because this is my place.”

Arianna wanted to scream at him for the answer that wasn’t an answer. She swallowed hard, but couldn’t dislodge the lump in her throat that was blocking all sound. He took a step, and then another. Arianna burned the sight of him into her eyes. The idea that the end of this rebellion, the true end, might not require her to sacrifice everything she loved, rooted itself unbidden in her mind. It was a notion she’d not considered with even the smallest corner of her heart, and now it burrowed so deep, she feared the hole it would leave would have no bottom.

“Is it my place?” he asked, standing toe-to-toe with her.

“I can’t choose that for you.” It was the only response she could muster. He hadn’t forced her to choose, in the end, and so neither could she.

“I long ago made that choice.” Cvareh leaned forward with all the slowness of a man who had her daggers shoved at his throat the last time they had occupied this space. His forehead met hers, their noses almost touching. And for a moment, for a brief and blissful moment, they merely breathed. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she confessed to herself, to him, to his twenty gods, to every maggot and rat and cut-purse that might be listening.

“Do you love me?”

Arianna opened her mouth to respond and closed it. She swallowed once more. She couldn’t make this easy for him, not now, not ever.

“Follow me, and find out.” Arianna stepped away and locked eyes with him for one deliciously long moment, before she strode out the door, his footsteps close behind.

With the moon watching, the Wraith and the Dragon stepped into the night together.