Page 13

Chapter

Eight

ARLON

The thief is climbing up, but from the whimper I just heard, they’re not doing too well.

I squint through the rain, trying to make out their form.

They’re small, possibly a young man, but the more probable explanation is that it’s a human woman.

I can’t tell for sure because the bottom half of her face is hidden by a scarf or perhaps a mask to conceal her identity.

She looks up at me and freezes, her eyes going wide despite the raindrops streaking her face. She slips in her panic and lets out a soft cry, another sound of pain that cuts straight into me.

“Hold on,” I murmur.

Whatever she was doing downstairs, the guards have caught on to it.

She looks down toward the courtyard, and for the briefest moment, I know what she’s thinking—whether she should take her chances with the gang downstairs or with me.

They’re the known entity to her. She must know what they’ll do to her.

But I’m a stranger, possibly an even bigger threat.

So I make the decision for her. I won’t hurt her, though I want my letters and my gold back. Those men are out for blood.

I lie flat on my stomach and reach over the edge of the roof.

Then I grab the wet rope and pull, lifting her a foot higher.

Her gasp draws my gaze—and sure enough, she’s noticed the green skin of my hands and face.

Her eyes flare wide, and she goes as if to tug the rope away from me, then thinks better of it.

“There’s nowhere to go but up,” I whisper, hoping she can hear me. “Let me help.”

She wouldn’t survive a fall from this height. Not even an orc would, since the courtyard below is cobbled in stone. For some reason, the thought of her plummeting sends terror coursing through me, so I work faster, pulling her up hand by hand.

The thief releases the rope with one hand, reaches into her satchel, and pulls out a knife—no, a dagger—the blade glinting in the darkness. For a wild moment, I think she might try to cut herself free, but she’s just preparing to fight me.

I’d laugh at the idea any other day, but on this slick, sloped roof in the dark, I can’t risk either of us slipping. One misstep and it’s over. I’m not keen on climbing down this damn roof with a stab wound if she’s any good with that thing.

I grin, then jerk the rope, letting it loose just enough to drop her a few inches before tightening my hold again.

She lets out a sharp scream and fumbles for the rope.

The dagger slips from her fingers and tumbles, turning end over end until it hits the cobblestones below.

Luck spares us from the guards’ notice. In the dark, they heard the noise, but none are looking up yet.

This is too dangerous. My arms strain in the awkward position as I haul the thief higher, then step back as she reaches the roof’s edge and clambers over, huffing with exertion and fear.

But now that she’s here, my mind locks onto something else. I watch her push herself to her knees, wary eyes fixed on me. I take a deep breath through my nose, pulling in her scent.

Cherries. Cherries and sweet peas. A fragrance so delicate I lean forward, craving another whiff.

The thief scrambles to her knees. She’s smaller than me by a head, human, and smells like the first breath of summer. There’s a hint of sugar too, like she’s carrying freshly baked goods, and my mouth waters at the thought of tasting her.

Without thinking, I step toward her, every sense focused on her. “It’s you.”

She moves forward, and joy explodes in my chest. She feels it too, recognizing me as her mate, just as I do her. I reach out, and she pulls back, then slams her fist into my face.

I jerk in place, confusion and hurt replacing the hope and excitement of finding her. Her hit wasn’t particularly strong, and she wasn’t close enough to deliver more than a glancing blow, but this is no way to greet one’s mate.

“ Ow !” she yelps in pain, cradling her hand to her chest. “Fuck! Oh, ow.”

It’s only then that I see something’s wrong with her hand, the skin strangely bumpy. If she was injured, why did she break in— oh . She must have sustained the injury during the burglary.

“Let me see.”

I approach her again, trying to take her hand, but she dances away from me, perilously close to the edge.

I lift my hands in surrender and retreat. “Hey, now. I won’t hurt you. I just want to help.”

She narrows her pretty eyes at me. “Right. Stay away from me.”

Gods, I wish she’d take off the scarf covering her face. I need to see her, all of her, but I’ll settle for just her face first. In the driving rain, all I can tell is that she’s shorter than me and wearing pants instead of a skirt, which is definitely the better choice for climbing buildings.

My mate is smart—I can already tell.

I stare at her, then shake my head to clear my thoughts. She might be smart, but she also punched me and would’ve stabbed me if I hadn’t knocked the dagger from her hand.

“We can’t stay here,” I tell her, trying to sound calm and reasonable, even though I’m anything but. “Come, I have a rope.”

“Why are you following me?” she demands, inching away from the edge toward the chimney.

She reaches for her boot and pulls out another knife. But instead of aiming for me, she cuts the length of rope tied to the chimney.

I want to tell her she’s my mate, that I would never hurt her, but her defensive stance says she wouldn’t take the news well. I’ve waited too long to fuck this up—I can wait a while longer.

“You stole from me,” I say. “I wanted to see what you were up to tonight.”

She steps back and pulls something from her satchel.

“Ah. I should’ve known this was about the gold.”

She draws her arm back and throws the object at me. I react on instinct, lunging for it, but my foot slips on the wet roof tiles. Not wanting to plummet to my death, I land on my hands and knees, then roll into a crouch.

A glance at my hand confirms it—a purse, no doubt stolen from the building below. But she threw it as a diversion, because she’s already running, keeping low to the roof and disappearing into the night.

“Fuck!”

I stuff the purse into my pocket and rush after her, but she’s lighter and clearly used to this. She scales the ridge of the roof ahead of me without pausing, then ducks out of sight.

By the time I reach her, she’s slipping through a rooftop window, much like the one in the attic of that family’s home across from my inn. I grab for her cloak, but she jumps and lands with a thud in the attic below, leaving me empty-handed, staring down into the dark.

The window is too narrow for me to fit through. If I tried, I’d get stuck and waste precious time. How she sees where she’s going, I have no idea, but her footsteps recede with alarming speed. A creak of a door tells me she’s making her way downstairs, which means…

“No,” I growl.

I lunge back and run to the end of the row of buildings, where I’d scaled the wall to get up here. My rope is still there, wet and cold. I tie in and lower myself over the edge, my hands shaking as I descend, the need to be near my mate pounding through me.

This is nothing like the others said it would be. They spoke of joy and elation, of the full-bodied conviction that they had found their partner for life. But none of their mates tried to knock their teeth out, did they?

I miss a foothold and slip, and only the clip secured to the iron flower planter saves me from falling two stories and breaking my neck. I force myself to focus and unclip from the now-bent planter, then carefully climb down until, finally, my boot touches the roof of the barber shop.

I shouldn’t leave the rope hanging here.

Knowing what my mate gets up to at night, I’ll probably need it again.

But the urge to catch up with her outweighs caution.

I cut the rope from my waist, stuff the climbing clips into the satchel I left on the roof with my cloak, and jump from the low roof onto the street.

Where is she?

I glance left. Surely she’s not brazen enough to run past the Ravens’ mansion when they’re on high alert and searching for burglars. That means…

I turn right, and there she is, disappearing around the corner. A whistle sounds somewhere behind me, announcing the arrival of the city watch, but the last thing I want is to stop and explain to Major Strahl or his men why I was here and did nothing during the theft.

But another danger is closing in—a pair of men running full-tilt after my mate. They must be guards from the mansion, chasing the intruder. The instinct to protect her takes over. I duck into the shadow of the barber’s shop and crouch, waiting for the right moment.

Their footsteps are loud in the quiet evening. They aren’t worried about being heard.

As they draw near, I swing out from around the corner and catch the man on the right in the throat. He goes down, gasping, his legs kicking out as he clutches his neck. I didn’t hit him hard enough to crush his windpipe, but he won’t be running anytime soon.

The other guard spins around, dark eyes flashing.

He’s tall, and as he drops into a fighter’s stance, I realize he’s trained too.

He swings his fist, brass knuckles glinting.

I duck the first hit, then step into his space and punch him in the jaw.

But he’s better than I expected. He stabs upward with his other hand, and pain explodes in my thigh.

I hadn’t even noticed the stiletto clutched in his left fist.

I hit him again, sending him sprawling. He stays down, groaning and clutching his cheek.

It’s an unfair fight, but I don’t care. I only want them to stop chasing the thief.

When I’m sure neither man is getting up, I run after the woman, ignoring the pain in my leg. The wound isn’t deep enough to slow me down.

I round the corner where she disappeared and scan the street. There’s an obvious choice, a narrow side alley, but it curves back toward the Ravens’ mansion, so she wouldn’t have gone that way.

Instead, I take the larger street on the right, and there she is, her footsteps surprisingly quiet on the cobblestones.

I follow the dark shape of her hurtling through the night.

She’s fast, but I’m faster. I gain on her steadily, my legs pumping and my chest heaving.

The chase sends blood to my cock as well, and I grit my teeth against the urge to tackle my mate and kiss her right there in the street.

That would be a fucking mistake.

But so is this—chasing her through the narrow streets of Ultrup’s city center without knowing where she’s running to . Because surely, she has a plan. A thief as savvy as her would have an escape route mapped out. If I hadn’t taken out the Ravens’ guards for her, she’d have to shake them somehow.

When she disappears into a dark alley, I know she’s doing exactly that, using that strategy on me.

I round the corner, water sluicing down my face, and pause.

Fuck, but she chose well.

The alleyway is a dead end, aye, but there are four doors leading into the buildings on either side, as well as a low roof she could climb if she needed to. If I were human, or if she had a bigger head start, I would’ve lost her here.

But the scent of her is still fresh, though the rain is washing it away too quickly. A pair of oil streetlamps cast yellow pools of light on the intersection behind me, illuminating the cobbles just enough to see.

Slowly, I step into the alley, my senses primed. My mate is close, and I need to find her. There is no world in which I’d let her go.

Her scent is faint where I’m standing, but the deeper into the alley I walk, the stronger it becomes.

I finally hone in on the first door to the left, one that looks particularly decrepit and sad.

The building must be abandoned, which makes it a perfect hideout.

Maybe she even has a way to access the rooftops from inside.

That thought spurs me forward. I push open the door and duck my head beneath the lintel.

I want to call out to her, but I don’t know her name.

Besides, I could be walking into a trap.

I’m still amazed she was alone on that roof.

The fact that she’s working a job like this by herself fills me with a strange mix of pride and fear.

My mate is skilled enough to pull it off—but she’s alone.

If I hadn’t been there to haul her up tonight, I don’t want to think about what might’ve happened. If the Ravens had caught up to her…

My eyes strain in the dark, adjusting from the light outside. The room is empty, but there’s a doorway straight ahead, so that must be where she?—

A faint sound behind me is the only warning I get. I turn, dropping into a fighter’s stance?—

But something slams into the side of my head, and the world goes black.