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Silla’s nostrils flair at the mention of her step-sister. “She thinks so badly of me,” she whispers. “The stories paint her as a victim, but Ana and I were really excited for another sister. The reality wasn’t quite what either of us expected. Cinder didn’t want to share her father, a brat used to getting her way. When he died, my mother treated me as badly as she did my step-sister, except no one can see the marks left years later.”

“I see,” I hiss. “Why don’t you meet anyone’s eye? Why are you even now looking for the exits in this place?”

Silla is very aware of her surroundings, and I noticed how she marked the exits as she walked through the greenhouse.

“My eyes say too much,” she says. “I taught my body to not give anything away, and it usually works. My thoughts shine clearly when I meet someone’s gaze though. I learned how dangerous that was, so now when I look down, it appears that I’m shy, submissive, or demure.”

“Demure my ass!” I yell, but instead of shrinking away, Silla fucking giggles. Gods, I want to hear that sound more. I’m quickly getting very addicted to all of the little things this girl does, and obsession is something I attempt to avoid.

It’s why I rarely fuck the same person more than once, unless it’s in class. I can detach easier in class, and a hole is a hole. Some are tighter or wetter than others. Andrya is different, but even then, she enjoys the chase of new adventures.

I don’t begrudge her in the slightest.

“No one else needs to know that. I made myself small so people wouldn’t notice when I pulled their credit card or cash,” she explains, her eyes glittering.

No longer touching her, I miss the connection. “How did you get pinched for prostitution and hacking if everything you did was petty theft?” I ask.

“Prostitution is out of left field. I have no idea how anyone could say this was how I made money,” Silla scoffs. “I’m in investments. I take away from bad people, and then invest in myself. Except, someone figured out what I was doing, and now I’m here at my step-sister’s behest. I’m sure it’s right where she wants me to be, so she can torture me.”

“Do you deserve to be tortured?” I ask, wrapping my fist in her hair, gently tugging her head back.

“Does anyone?” she asks. “I wanted to disappear, and have enough money to do it with. I didn’t want to be forced to marry a sixty-year-old man with a slew of broken wives.”

The idea of her marrying a man so much older than her makes me irrationally angry. Silla isn’t mine, I shouldn’t have such strong feelings for her, and yet my body is screaming for this beautiful girl who imagines herself to be broken.

“How did you manage to get out of it?” I ask her idly. My body is begging to be pressed against her, Silla’s lips are deliciously pink, and I may be craving a first kiss from someone who isn’t Andrya.

“I told my sister that I wouldn’t marry him. I want to make my life in the Kingdom of Forbach, not in a kingdom I’ve never been to. I would be alright never seeing my family again, but there’s nothing like the place I grew up in,” Silla whispers.

There are those who wouldn’t understand what she means, but I love this kingdom. There’s beauty here, and I get to witness it when I come to the greenhouse. It’s in the mountains that surround this camp, the blue-green sky, or the trees that are so tall they blot out the sun.

I wouldn’t want to leave either.

Bending over her, I find myself a hair’s breadth away from Silla’s lips. I want to ask permission to kiss her, and it’s a foreign feeling. I could coerce her, tell this girl she owes me for bringing her out here, but that also feels wrong.

I asked her here because she needed to see the outside world. My selfish component to this is wanting to watch the anxiety and fear that live inside of her melt away.

Silla and I are both winning today.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, searching her eyes for discomfort. “You intrigue me, make me feel things, and I don’t understand why. Maybe I’ll be able to get it out of my system with a kiss?”

“And what if you can’t?” she asks softly, her hand rubbing my face gently. I want to burrow into her palm like a cat, rub my scent all over her.

Damn. This may not be a good idea. Fuck it.

“How about we cross that bridge together when we reach it?” I ask.

Shivering slightly, I notice that her nipples are pebbled, and her pupils slightly dilated.

“Want to jump with me?” I growl, barely brushing my lips against hers.

A heartbeat turns into two, and then three, and I wonder if she’ll ever answer me.

A shuddering breath brings me back to myself as I spiral in a way that’s very unlike me.

“Yes, Sidney,” Silla says. My hand cups the back of her head, my thumb laying on her pulse. Her heartbeat is fast, but not the way I would expect it to be if she was scared of me. Her chest rises and falls as Silla pants in desire, and I have my answer.

Licking the seam of her lips, I wait for them to part. “Thank you,” I whisper, kissing, nipping, and sucking on her bottom lip. Pulling her closer by wrapping my arm around her waist, I acknowledge that I expressed gratitude to someone for the first time in over twenty-seven years.