Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(33)

She brought her arms up to hug herself. “Are you coming back?” Doubt tinged her voice. “Tell me the truth.”

I told myself distrust was normal. Good even. I blew out a breath and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. The slightest quiver to her bottom lip revealed she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended to be leaning there against the tree.

I gestured to my pack as though she could see it there in the dirt by her feet. “I’m leaving my supplies.”

She nodded stiffly, but didn’t appear to fully accept my explanation as proof enough that I would be coming back.

I started to leave, walked several feet, but the image of her face—the big dark eyes—burned an imprint onto my mind. I knew that visual would follow me, and I didn’t need that. Not when I needed a clear head.

With a muffled curse, I whipped back around. She was scared and not totally convinced I would be returning for her. What if I was gone longer than she expected and she took it into her head to leave?

Several strides put me back in front of her. My heart thumped hard in my chest. Even though she was taller than a good many women, I still looked down at her.

Resolve fueled me. I reached for her, taking her face firmly in both my hands, fixing her unseeing stare on me. She jumped a little at the contact but didn’t pull away.

This close, the freckles spattering her nose and cheeks were clearly visible—a collection of brown dots of varying sizes, all several shades lighter than her dark hair.

Trapped in my hands, staring sightlessly up, she seemed so vulnerable. A single budding lily in a world of night. One clap of my hands and she would be crushed, her light snuffed out.

“I will not abandon you, Luna.” It was the reassurance she had asked for before, but I had been unable to say the words then. “Ever,” I added.

It didn’t mean she would never get hurt. It didn’t mean either one of us would make it, but if something happened to her it would not be because I had failed her. I would never do that. Not again.

Her lips parted in the slightest gasp. She blinked, looking as startled as I felt at my avowal.

“Do you understand?” I slipped my fingers deeper into her hair, cradling the back of her skull. “You believe me?”

Her shock at my promise was palpable.

And there was my own awareness of her slighter body so close to mine. Her fragrance filled my nose. I felt alive for the first time in a long time. My skin prickled and pulled tight, sensitive even to the slightest gust of air. There was no part of me that didn’t feel.

If she touched me, I might come apart. My stomach pitched and turned, hoping she did. Hoping she didn’t.

She was a girl who somehow managed to smell good and fresh in a world of stinking rot. It was not a situation I would have chosen for myself, but here I was.

She nodded and those lips of hers—so loose and soft and appealing—grabbed all of my attention. I gave in and dropped my forehead against hers. I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with her.

My blood pumped thickly through my veins. She sucked in a breath, her only reaction to our sudden closeness.

My lips rested at the corner of her mouth, not quite touching. I only needed to turn slightly, and our mouths would meet. A shudder passed through me.

I flexed my hands, my fingers spearing through her satiny hair. Her forehead felt smooth and warm against my own. Her breath, sweet and minty, crashed against my lips.

My heart heaved painfully as I lifted my head to look down at her again, denying myself what I wanted to do. Kissing her, tasting her lips. The wonder in her expression was an invitation even she wasn’t conscious of.

My fingers grazed her cheeks before falling at my sides.

“Why did you do that?” she murmured.

“Do what?”

“Touch me . . . like that.”

I shook my head. There had been a girl or two since Bethan. No names. Shadowed faces. Quick encounters to escape the numbness. We clung to each other in the dark and moved on. Luna was not like them.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

Turning away, I disappeared into the thick press of trees, quickly pushing away the thought of silky hair and soft skin and the kiss we almost had.

I slid back into my normal role, slinking through trees, setting my boots down carefully, choosing each step with calculation.

They were still there, the voices snatches of muted sound. As a group, they didn’t move with the most stealth, but they weren’t walking around with torches, so they possessed some deliberation.

I pulled an arrow from my quiver and nocked it. They were approaching. I crouched low behind a tree and waited, slowing my breath until my heartbeat filled my ears.

I smelled them before they came into view, the rotting stink of them like a carcass left out to the elements too long. The filthy bunch stepped into view: four men and two females. Blood and dirt covered them. Their hair was matted nests and clothes hung off them in tattered scraps. The bony joints of their skeletal bodies peeked out like gnarled branches.

One of the men was entirely naked, but he strolled along indifferently to the fact. He raked his fingers up and down his already bloodied arms, gouging them raw.

A man walked at the helm holding a battle-ax that looked as if it had never been cleaned. Blood and bits of debris clung to the blade’s edge. An older boy trailed behind him, feverishly picking at his gums until crimson coated his teeth.