Page 29

He passes me the last bit of meat, then gets up and cleans his knife diligently before stowing it away. With that same efficient grace, he puts out the fire, tossing dirt over it to smother the remaining coals. Then he disappears into the bushes, leaving me alone to stew in my unhappiness.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to figure out what to do. I ran from Arlon once already, and I was sure I’d left him behind. Apparently, it would take more than leaving the city and hiding in the forest to shake him.

But what if I return what I’ve stolen from him?

He claimed he didn’t care about the gold, but that can’t be true. Of course he’s going to follow the money. I saw the remaining purses in his lockbox at the Heron, but I would care if someone stole my gold, no matter how much of it I had stashed away.

And the letters… I didn’t find anything useful in them, so I might as well give them back and send him on his way once and for all.

He’ll have no reason to follow me then.

My heart thumps faster as I pull my saddlebags close and root through them for the stolen loot.

The two gold purses sit heavy in my palms, and I eye them wistfully.

It was a good dream, thinking I could use the money to set myself up for life.

I pry open the strings and take three coins from each of the purses, heft them carefully, then take out two more.

This much money will still see me through the worst of it if I’m careful, and I don’t think he’ll notice the difference, not unless he had the gold counted down to the last coin.

If he demands all of it, I’ll say I spent it.

This time, I’m more careful when tucking the money away. I place each coin separately, so they won’t chime against each other.

Then I take out the bundle of his letters and place it beside Arlon’s saddlebags, along with the coin purses. It’s strange, but I’m almost more reluctant to part with the letters than the gold, so I push away, busying myself with repacking my bags now that I have some extra space in them.

It’s just that I haven’t received a personal letter in so long.

Only notes about meetings or new jobs, and even those were rare, as it’s not exactly smart to put illegal plans into writing.

Arlon’s friends and family obviously miss him, while my family wanted nothing to do with me.

The difference is jarring, is all. I’m not jealous, just surprised that there are people out there who have a whole company of relatives and acquaintances willing to exchange letters with them.

Arlon’s footsteps are quiet when he returns to camp.

That I hear him coming at all means he’s distracted, not focused on sneaking up on me like he was last night.

I still can’t get over how I relaxed immediately when I realized it was him visiting my small camp, not the Ravens.

I should have been just as worried, since I robbed him too, but something about him has my defenses crumbling.

He stops when he notices the two money purses, but it’s the letters he grabs first, undoing the string binding them together.

“You said you burned them,” he murmurs, shuffling the stack as if to make sure they’re all accounted for.

My face is hot all over as I mumble, “Well, I lied.”

“Thank you,” he rasps.

That has me looking up at him. He looks so damn relieved, I feel like an even bigger villain for taking this personal treasure from him, even for a few days.

Then my mouth gets away from me, and I admit, “I read some of them.”

His cheeks flush a deeper shade of green. “Why?”

Damn it. This is why I always work alone. I hate this awkwardness. I’ve built walls around myself to protect me from feeling for my marks, and Arlon is stomping on all of them, forcing his way through.

“I’m sorry.” I clench my hands around the strap of my saddlebag. “I thought there might be information in them about the Ravens. I saw you watching their mansion, so I thought you might know what they were doing.”

“These are personal ,” he snaps. “Anyone could see that.”

My hackles rise at his tone. “I said I’m sorry. I thought they might be written in code. I’ve never had anyone write to me just to tell me about their fucking breakfast, so I didn’t know they weren’t relevant.”

Arlon stares at me for a long moment. Just as I think he’s going to sulk for the rest of the day—or better yet, leave—he ties the bundle back together and purses his lips.

“Never?” he asks.

I frown at him. “What?”

“You’ve never received a personal letter?”

My gaze drops to my saddlebag again. “Not since I was a girl, no. I don’t remember what the last letter was about, either. It’s been a decade, so…”

I don’t know why I told him that. Or why it hurts to think about it. I’ve put my past behind me, regrets, mistakes, and all. I don’t have time to think about it, not when we need to get on the road.

“Are we going to stand around arguing, or are you ready to leave?” I demand.

Then I pick up my saddlebags and blanket and walk away from him.

He doesn’t say anything, just silently saddles his horses and comes over to help tighten the straps on mine.

Without a word, we break down the camp, hurling the cut branches deep into the bramble patch and covering the fire pit with dirt and leaves, carefully disguising any sign we were ever here.

With the cliffside shelter gone, it’s almost impossible to imagine that I spent the night sleeping safely while Arlon watched over me. For once, I’m well-rested, while he covers a yawn with his broad palm, clearly tired.

He’s the one who didn’t wake me for my watch, so I shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He had to go and play the hero—now he’s paying for it.

“I thought of a game we could play,” he announces when we reach the road and swing ourselves into the saddles.

I nudge Clover with my heels, and she turns up the road, her steps sure and quick on the hard-packed dirt. “I don’t want to play any games.”

Arlon catches up with me. On his big horse, he seems even taller than before, and I resist the urge to gawk at him. He’s a warrior on a quest, as if I’d plucked him straight out of one of those adventure stories I loved reading as a girl too young to understand that heroes don’t exist.

“You’ll want to play this one,” he declares, adjusting the lead of his second horse so the animal can walk comfortably behind us. “It’s a great bargain for you.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t make bargains with men who stalk me through the forest.”

He cocks his head to the side, considering my words. “I don’t think it counts as stalking if you know I’m here. I could fall back and follow you from a distance, but we have a way to go, and I’d rather we use the time more productively.”

“Gods, fine. Will you stop pestering me if I agree to play your stupid game?”

I look up to find him grinning at me, and something in my belly flips over, a strange, unfamiliar sensation.

It’s not lust, that much I know, but it feels dangerously close to it.

He’s too damn handsome, that’s the problem.

Beautiful men can be dangerous too, as I’ve learned.

It’s a defect in my nature, perhaps, that I see a charming smile and lower my defenses.

I really should know better by now.

“All right,” he says, his voice low and resonant. “The game should be familiar to you. It goes like this: I get to ask you one question, and you have to answer honestly. In return, you get to ask two questions of me.”

I think of the last time we exchanged information like that and can’t resist a glance toward his thigh and the wound I know is hidden there. He catches me staring, so I face forward again, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“That’s a shit deal,” I retort. “Since I have no wish to answer any questions at all.”

Arlon is undeterred by my refusal. He leans back and plucks a comb from one of the saddlebags, undoes the tie at the end of his long braid, and starts brushing out his dark brown hair while his horse continues on, calm as anything.

“You might not want to answer questions,” he says, running the comb through his hair, “but you must be curious about me.”

Ugh, the arrogance!

But as I watch him pull his hair back into a high knot that exposes his pointy green ears, another thought occurs to me.

“You’ll answer any question?” I watch him closely for any sign of deception.

“Aye.” He wraps a leather tie around his hair. “As long as I know the answer. If I don’t, you can ask another.”

His grooming seems to be done, but he doesn’t put the comb away. Instead, he leans over and offers it to me.

I shake my head at him. I don’t want his godsdamned comb, and I resent the implication that I need one. We’re traveling in the wilderness, and I don’t want him thinking I’m trying to make a good impression. If he doesn’t like my messy hair, maybe he’ll leave me alone.

“I want three questions,” I declare.

He dips his chin in a quick nod. “Deal.”

Damn it, I should have asked for more. I expected him to bargain.

“Fine. You said the Ravens were moving caravans out of the city. That you were working with the city watch to figure out what scheme they were running. Was there anything else you learned that you haven’t told me?”

It’s a broad question, but I might as well milk him for all the information I can.

Arlon draws in a slow breath, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“I was in Ultrup for several years, and we never managed to pin anything definitive on the Ravens. Their operations were either completely legal or so well concealed that we couldn’t find anything to charge them with.

” He casts a quick glance at me. “But they’ve never done anything on this scale before, at least not openly.

We always suspected they were shaking people down for protection money and collecting dues from businesses operating out of their properties, but kidnapping? That’s altogether different.”

I snort. “You must not have been looking in the right places. They don’t just own properties—they own people. Favors, information, that’s what they deal in. They’ve infiltrated the Duke’s court, and Damen is one of the most powerful men in Ultrup.”

I bite down on the words too late, cursing myself. I shouldn’t be volunteering this.

But Arlon only nods, expression serious. “Aye, that makes sense. No trail to follow if you’re only trading gossip. Smart. But you said you don’t belong to them, so they don’t own you.”

It’s not a question—clever of him. I’d hoped he’d waste his turn on something pointless. I’ll need to be more careful before I blurt out anything else.

“Based on what you’ve learned, do you think they’re really kidnapping people?”

It’s a weak question, but I need to ask because the thought of Lindie suffering somewhere makes my stomach clench.

“I think Damen is smarter than that,” Arlon admits. “He’s been dealing directly with the Duke. Why would he risk his entire operation by doing something so reckless?”

He has a point. It’s a relief, in a way. Lindie might not be in danger. But it also leaves me with no answers.

“Ask your third question, Tessa,” he prompts, voice low. “One more, and it’s my turn.”

A shiver crawls down my spine at his words, though it’s not fear, not exactly. It’s the uncertainty that gets to me. I don’t know what Arlon wants from me, and that’s…unsettling.

“Why were you staying at the Heron if your clan has a house in town?” I demand.

If I hadn’t been watching him closely, I would’ve missed the slight tick of his jaw. His teeth clench, then loosen a beat later.

“There wasn’t enough room at the house,” he says finally.

“A trading caravan arrived from Bellhaven—five or six wagon drivers. That’s plenty for the house, but my friend’s family came with them, and they took up a lot of space with their twins, as is their right.

I occupied those rooms long enough. I didn’t fancy sharing with the others, so I moved to the Heron instead. ”

I study him, catching the faint flush that spreads across his cheeks.

“I thought the game was to tell the truth,” I murmur, hating how much the answer disappoints me.

Because somehow, I know it’s not the whole truth. I don’t know how, exactly, but I’d bet every gold mark I stole from him that he’s holding something back.

He looks at me sharply, then inclines his head. “Aye, that’s right. And I didn’t lie.”

“But you didn’t tell me everything,” I protest. “What you told me isn’t the real reason.”

To my surprise, Arlon smiles, one of his true, earnest grins that send my belly tumbling. I have no clue why he’s so happy—I just accused him of lying.

“You can tell that already?” He nudges his horse closer to me and takes a deep inhale, then retreats to his side of the road. “You’re already attuned to me, even after a day. That’s a very good sign.”

I squint at him, unimpressed. “I’m attuned to liars , not you specifically. Now, are you going to—?” I stop myself just in time and reformulate the question as an order, just in case he’s counting. “Tell me the truth, or the game stops now.”

“All right, all right.” Arlon rubs the back of his neck, then lets out a long exhale that steams in the morning air. “I was restless at our house. Marut and Violet—those are my friends from the clan—arrived with their little ones in tow, and all I could think was how much I want that too.”

Something that feels worryingly like sadness curls through me at his words. If he wants a wife and children, what is he doing following me through the wilderness? I want to demand that he stop, but he’s staring ahead now, not focused on me.

“I felt the need to leave,” he goes on. “As if the Fates were telling me it was time to move, but I was too stubborn to listen. So they sent along Marut’s family to push me out of the comfort of the house.

The room at the Heron was only ever going to be a temporary fix.

I was set on leaving, but I didn’t know which way to go.

” He turns his dark gaze on me. “Until I was robbed by a crafty thief and met my mate, that is.”

I don’t know what to say to that. The way he’s talking about me…

“My life lacked all direction,” he adds quietly. “The moment I met you, I found my true north again.”