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The sun was high now. Gray mists had lifted and drops of dew glittered over the trees like liquid gold. I chose to ride with Kage atop the giant of a horse. Held in the space of his arms, my back to his chest, I could almost pretend my body did not protest to the rough ride.

He’d dressed like the thief I’d first met, minus the skull mask. A short blade hung on his waist and a hood shadowed his features.

“How did you shield your face in Swindler’s Alley?”

“Bone mage,” he said. “I can summon bones and manipulate them, remember?”

A shudder danced down my spine. “That mask was part of your skull?”

“Impressed, Wildling?”

“I’d say more grossed out.”

He chuckled, wholly pleased with himself, and pressed a soft kiss against the slope of my neck.

Afternoon wore on. We paused only long enough to water Sleipnir and eat berries with leftover bread from Gaina’s stew. Warm air off the shore hinted at a storm approaching. The wood was alight with sounds of creatures, and the nearer we drew to the blooms of the Sanctuary lands, the more a collision of spice and sweet perfumed the air.

When the first songs of twilight rose from the forest, the path opened to knolls coated in a blanket of flowers, petals the deepest shade of plum. Sweet and sour, like chocolate and cumin. I could see how, depending who breathed in the air, the scent might be pleasant or unappealing.

Kage rode into a narrow clearing along the edge where the knolls met the trees. He abandoned the horse but helped me slide off, hands on my waist. Much like Kage stocked his parents’ cottage with books and food, he’d seen to it clothes were in the wardrobes.

My dress had crusted over in Immorti innards, Kage’s blood, and had grown fetid with my own sweat. There were times I craved the simplicity of sweatpants and oversized sweaters from the mortal realms, but I’d practically swooned when Kage offered up a loose fitted tunic top and oddly comfortable hosen style pants. Like medieval yoga pants.

With a clap to Sleipnir’s neck, Kage murmured under his breath—beautiful words, in a language I both knew and didn’t.

I closed my eyes, listening to his deep timbre until the horse snorted and trotted back into the trees.

“You told him to return, didn’t you?”

“Gå hem,” Kage whispered, curling one finger around mine.

“Home,” I returned, voice soft. “Right?”

The prince didn’t answer, merely continued, his fingers trailing higher upmy arm. “Och mon bren.”

“Be safe?”

“Close.” Kage’s chest brushed with mine once his fingertips traced the edge of my jaw. “Be well.”

All day I’d ridden, nestled in his arms, his hard body against mine. Kisses, touches, all of it had awakened a fierce sort of need. This close, I wasn’t certain I could go another moment without kissing this man.

I tilted my face to his. Kage leaned in.

“When did this happen? I mean, I noticed before, but I wanted the details, and I did not receive them at the cottage.”

Damn them.

“There is a saying in the mortal realms,” I said. “Toread the room. Did this seem like the best time to interrupt?”

I turned to the trees with what I hoped was a hefty bit of annoyance on my face. Gwyn, Asger, and Cy were aligned, all atop their own horses (Asger rode a skittish mule, and seemed rather petulant about it), watching us with varying expressions of bewilderment.

“Oh.” Gwyn feigned surprise. “Forgive us for emerging through the thick, dark wood to the previously assigned meeting place. Next time I shall be sure Cy sends Hakon to warn us if you two are about to bed each other.”

Kage pulled back, but did not shy away from taking my hand. He tugged me toward the meadow. “I would never do such a thing, Gwyn, and you know it.”

I played with the idea of being offended that Kage wouldn’t sleep with me. He didn’t seem so averse to the idea in the supply hut.

Until he looked back to our friends, grinning like a villain. “I’d never put her on display out in the open for others to see. That sight is for me alone.”