Rise of Fire (Reign of Shadows #2)(59)

I crossed my hands over my stomach, willing sleep to come. Somehow I didn’t think I would ever sleep well or fully in this place. Especially after tonight. The memory of Tebald’s touch, his words . . . how could I stay here when this place made me feel like my own skin didn’t fit my body? I preferred the Outside with all its dangers to this.

My bedchamber door creaked open and I lurched upright, heart pounding. My mind leaped to where I’d left my bow and how quickly I could get to it. After this evening’s shock, I fully expected my late-night visitor to be Tebald.

“Luna.” At Fowler’s hushed voice I sagged with relief.

“Fowler,” I cried, and then caught myself, dropping my voice. “You shouldn’t be here,” I hissed.

He crossed the room and closed his hands over my arms. “Get changed. Where are your shoes? Your boots? You can’t go Outside in slippers. You’ll tear them to shreds in minutes.”

He let go of me and hurried across the room. Cold swept over me. His boots thudded distinctly. He’d changed already, too. I could smell the leather of his doublet.

I heard him at the bureau, the door slamming against the wall. He rifled through the garments in my wardrobe.

The cold didn’t fade. I chafed my hands up and down my arms, hugging myself tight as I scooted to the edge of the bed. “Fowler, do you have a new plan? We can’t go through the storeroom again, can we?” I stood and edged forward. “We can’t just charge out into the night—”

Fowler spun around and advanced on me, his voice darkly intent. “We can’t just stay here and wait for the king to drop any more surprises on us. For all we know he plans to marry you tomorrow. Or maybe he won’t even wait for a wedding at all. He might be on his way to claim you this very evening. Have you considered that?”

Bile rose up from the back of my throat. Of course I had. I remembered that hand on me, tight and hurting. I thought of what he’d said about my mother, about me.

I shoved that memory away, shaking my head. I couldn’t think about that. “You’re overwrought.”

He laughed harshly. “Luna, this whole place is a paper tower ready to crumble at the first wind. We can’t stay.” He pulled me toward the wardrobe. “Now are you going to change? Or do I need to help you?”

I knew he didn’t mean it. Despite the gravity of his words, he wouldn’t force me to do anything. He needed my compliance. We couldn’t just stroll out the front gate.

I stepped forward and smoothed a palm down Fowler’s cheek. “So fierce. This isn’t like you.” He’d never been rash. Fowler was smart and calculating. He hadn’t survived on the Outside these last years because of luck.

His chest lifted on a ragged breath. “Tebald wants you for himself. He won’t stop until he gets you.”

I nodded and spoke in a placating manner. “But don’t you think we stand a better chance of surviving if we stop and come up with a plan? Maybe Chasan would help. He wasn’t happy either—”

Fowler laughed roughly, the sound scratchy. “Yes, he’ll help himself.”

Before I could anticipate his next move, he swept me into his arms and buried his nose in my hair, his mouth directly against my ear.

Turning his face into my neck, he inhaled me before pressing his mouth to the sensitive skin there. “Luna,” he breathed. “Just the idea of you with Chasan has been bad enough. To think of you with the king . . .”

I brought both hands into his hair, delving my fingers through the thick mass. “Then don’t think about it.”

His mouth at my neck sent my thoughts ricocheting. My heart beat like a wild thing as his lips and teeth grazed my skin, making me gasp. My knees threatened to buckle and his arm came up around my waist, hauling me closer and keeping me from falling. He was good at holding me together. Except when he was sending me flying apart. One touch, one kiss from him did that.

The creak of hinges wove its way through the fog of my thoughts.

We weren’t alone anymore.





TWENTY-SEVEN


Fowler


TOO LATE, I heard the click of the door and realized neither of us had thought to bolt it. A gasp sounded. It was ugly and obscene, as though ripped deep from someone’s soul. The peace of our sanctuary, the intimacy between us, shattered.

We had been discovered. Even so, I felt like I was giving up a part of myself to disengage from Luna and face the door.

Maris stood there, eyeing us both up and down with her wounded, childlike gaze. “Fowler? What are you doing?” Her perfect features froze in horror as she stood on the threshold. She asked the question, but she knew.

Luna’s lips worked for speech and she took a step forward. I shook my head, beyond pretending, well past further subterfuge. I was done. I seized Luna’s hand and pulled her to my side. “I’m sorry, Maris. There was never going to be a you and me. Luna and I are leaving.”

Luna made a small sound of distress, turning her face toward me. “Fowler . . .”

“You and Luna?” Maris’s eyes darted back and forth between us, her voice shrill. “When?” she sputtered, her gaze dropping to where I held Luna’s hand. “How?”

Suddenly robed figures appeared behind the princess. A bejeweled hand fell on her shoulder, moving her to the side for the arrival of others. Tebald took his daughter’s place, a great figure in his fine robes of purple, his face a mask of controlled ire.