Page 21

The chase exhilarates, a primal thrill that washes away the court’s oppressive weight and numbing nothingness.

Zenthris is a blur of motion, leaping over rooftops, down to alleyways, then up again to the next street and onward.

He disappears and reappears among the shadows, though I never lose the sense of him, keeping pace.

I push against the inactivity that makes me tired too quickly, despite the exercise I’ve been getting every day, and I stretch myself past my body’s resistance, embracing the ache.

I’ve missed this so much.

The scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine suddenly overtakes the city’s dominant odor, filling my lungs, mingled with the wild, magnetic scent of him as he stops abruptly, and I catch him at last.

But he’s not interested in a personal moment. Zenthris crouches, gaze locked on something below us, body loose and ready for whatever it is we’re here for.

I realize I’ve followed him to something I know nothing about. And I don’t care, either. This is life. This is the only kind of freedom I’ve felt since leaving Heald.

We’re not alone any longer. I sense them before they appear from the dark to join us, four shapes, one hulking and familiar as Kell nods to me. But I catch the twist of the drakonkin’s lips, his disapproval and know that Zenthris’s invitation was without consulting the others.

I give them short attention, a pair of skinny twins, their sharp eyes taking me in as the genderless duo—are they girls or boys?—huddle together and stare. There’s a young man with a scar cutting his face in two, pulling him askew, though his grin is welcoming. As for the girl, I know her, too.

“Apple,” I say in a whisper.

She beams back at me and nods.

Because, of course, it’s her, the child I saved in the market. But she moves with such grace now, no longer fearful, and suddenly I’m grasping Zenthris by the arm and jerking him around to face me.

Nose-to-nose, I hiss into his mouth. “You set that up.”

“I did,” he whispers back. “I wanted to see what the princess of Heald was made of.”

“I could have let the guards have her.” I’m about to toss him off the roof, I’m so angry.

“But you didn’t.” Zenthris stares back, amber eyes warm and gold even in the cool moonlight. “You didn’t .”

I let him go, leaning away. He seems to take that as some kind of sign.

“Remalla of Heald,” Zenthris says, his voice a low, teasing rumble. “Meet the misfits.”

They nod, the twins waving. I feel my nostrils flare in irritation before turning back to him.

“So,” Zenthris continues, his smirk returning. “Ready for some real fun? A proper night out?”

I am, curse me to the fire. I nod.

And follow again, only this time I’m not amused.

He leads us through a series of narrow, winding back streets, the smells of damp stone and that heavy scent of jasmine.

We’re a long way from the market now, deep in the wealthy area of the city.

The large, flat rooftops make our passage easier, not harder, and when Zenthris again pauses on one very close to the inner wall that marks the boundary to the Citadel’s outer court, I know our destination has to be, if not a nobleman’s home, at the very least a wealthy merchant’s.

The ostentatious manor house dominates its block, the back a manicured lawn the size of a small park, though not nearly as large as it might be if not so close to the Overking’s seat. The moonlight barely compares to the bright glow from below, the house fully lit.

This is some kind of raid, I assume, and I’m not irritated anymore.

My blood thrums with anticipation. My people, the Heald, are masters of the swift strike, the calculated attack, after all.

And though I am a princess, I have no qualms about taking from those who cannot keep what they have.

The spoiled and weak deserve to lose, as we’ve proven time and again on the battlefield.

While not necessarily a war for property, per se, the laws of a soldier still apply to the spoils of peace.

Zenthris lays out the plan, his voice low and precise, his movements economical. He is a natural leader, and his crew listens intently.

“Two, take the bedroom window.” The twins nod, their combined identity a fleeting oddity. “Apple,” he winks at me when he uses the nickname that I’ve apparently given the girl, “stand watch.”

She inhales to argue, but he boops her nose with the tip of one finger.

“It’s important,” he says, low and sweet.

She crosses her little arms over her chest and sticks her tongue out at him.

“Raltair, kill all the lights.” The young man nods. “Kell and I will liberate the prize. Fast and silent. Let’s go.”

He hasn’t given me orders, so I stay with him, do as he does. The twins make short work of the window, one cracking the lock, the second easing it open from above before examining it from the hanging position.

A thumbs up, and Raltair is inside, the lights doused immediately, Apple waiting for Kell and me to enter before she settles just above the windowsill, Zenthris the last to touch down.

The interior of the house’s top level is quiet, though the sound of some kind of party going on below reaches us, the floor vibrating with it.

I touch Zenthris’s shoulder with a soft touch to let him know I’m on his heels, and he’s off as the twins retreat to join Apple, lights winking out ahead of us as Raltair does his work quickly and without notice.

Not that there’s anyone up here to notice. I don’t sense anyone ahead or behind, the heartbeat of the house in the lower levels.

I have no idea what we’re after, and it isn’t until Zenthris stops outside a doorway, fingers brushing across it, that he whispers to Kell.

“This one.”

The drakonkin hesitates. “I don’t feel it.”

“I do. Just trust me.” I have no idea what they’re talking about and keep my questions for after the fact as Zenthris tests the handle.

It doesn’t open, at least not at first. Kell grunts something I miss, but Zenthris is frowning, staring at the knob in his hand. I’m about to suggest we break it when it suddenly gives way, and the door is open.

He unlocked it somehow. But how?

Another question, piling up with others now, as they hurry inside. I wait by the door as Raltair joins me, nodding to him as he grins back with a little salute. And then he’s gone, back the way we came, and I see him disappear out the window.

Their jobs done, the others have exited. Should I do the same? I’ve been superfluous in this entire endeavor thus far. Why did Zenthris bring me? Annoyed all over again, I follow the two rogues inside the room in time to see Kell remove a painting from the wall. This is about art?

No, not even close. There’s a large steel door on the other side. A safe. And from the clink of metal on metal, I now know what the key is for.

The key from the library.

What is going on?

The safe door creaks when Kell pulls it open. I’m too slow despite my speed to see what it is that Zenthris helps himself to from inside it. The drakonkin closes the safe again, locking it, settling the painting back in place.

Zenthris winks at me on the way by, and he’s gone out the door, Kell following, leaving me to fume and glare at the painting one more moment before I’m on their heels.

Out into the night air and onto the rooftop while the twins swing down to close the window and lock it.

“What about the lights?” I’m sullen and not trying to hide it.

“The lamps ran out of oil,” Raltair says with a shrug, showing me a small skin that he tucks away inside his shirt. “A shame that the servants were lax. They might get flogged for it.”

I’m not fond of his suggestion, but the crew is slipping away, and I don’t have a say in the matter.

Mission complete, the group separates without having to be told, dissolving into the night with the silent efficiency of seasoned rogues.

I’m still with Zenthris when Kell pauses and stares at me from the lip of a roof before he disappears with a leap.

Leaving me alone with Zenthris.

He’s not still, racing away. It gives me time to pull back from the anger I’m fighting.

I hate the feeling of being left out. I’ve been living that far too much lately.

And though I came on this adventure willingly, eagerly, the fact that I have been less than useless to him despite his invitation rankles.

I finally pull him to a halt at the cusp of the market square. “I’ll go no further,” I say. “Until I have answers.”

“Then you’ll go no further,” he says.

We face off, Zenthris smirking and me glaring back at him. A punch would wipe that grin from his face. So would a kiss. Despite my annoyance, I’m inclined to the latter.

“You didn’t need me here,” I say. That’s what irks me the most.

“No,” he agrees somewhat happily. “I’m more than capable and able to get along without you, princess, and have been for a very long time.”

“Then why?” I’ll slap that smirk from his face, I swear it. “Why lure me out here if not to be of service?”

He stills. “It’s not always about what you can do for others,” he says. “There’s always time for that. Tonight’s fun was for you, Remi. To clear your head. And to prove something to myself.”

“Which was?” He’s as exasperating as he is delicious, and I’m torn about how to feel.

Liar. I know how I feel.

He grins, seriousness faded, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. “We’re more fun than playing courtly games, aren’t we?”

“Moderately,” I say.

He shrugs. “Then perhaps we can do this again sometime. But for now, it’s time for you to go back into your cage, pretty bird.”

“I don’t want to go back.” I speak before I can stop myself, the frustration, the dullness of all the nothing that is the Citadel weakening me. “Tonight, I feel the most alive I have since I left Heald.” My voice is low, honest.

I’ve surprised him with my candor. It’s clear as his face softens, his grin falling away.

Amber eyes pierce me through the darkness.

“That’s because you belong to the wild, Remi.

” He uses the nickname that only my aunt is allowed to as though he came up with it, and I don’t fight him over it.

“Not to the cage.” His voice drops, soft and serious, laced with an unfamiliar depth.

“There’s a power in the world, a truth suppressed.

The sins of the past still echo. They touch everything, taint the heart of our lands.

” Zenthris pauses, lips a thin line as he looks up at the Citadel that towers over our position, crouched there together on the roof.

“I can’t tell you more, not yet. Your questions must wait, my means.

But my motives.” He returns his attention to me.

“My motives will serve you, too, Remi. I look forward to being able to show you how.”

I shake my head. “You’re not making sense.” Does this have to do with Atlas? With Heald?

“I know.” He leans in, breath hot on my ear again, making me shiver. “Just know that some of us are trying to set things right, no matter the cost. And that I trust you’re on our side.” His lips brush my cheek before I can speak again.

That spark, the back-and-forth sizzle, it wakes.

I’m turning my head before I know I’m doing it, and my lips are locking to his.

Zenthris kisses me as I kiss him, and I’m lost, lost in the way he tastes, in the heat of his skin and the thrust of his tongue that battles mine for a place inside me.

I’m grasping at him as though he’s the only thing in the world that can hold me afloat, a burning sense of recognition for the hidden currents that pass between us, as that spark that ricochets turns to flame.

I’m on fire. And all I want to do is burn.

He pulls away, and I cry out in the agony our parting causes. A gush of wetness precedes my groan as I come in his arms, his body shaking beneath me. I’ve somehow managed to pin him to the rooftop as I’d planned playfully to do not so long ago, only I don’t remember doing it.

My body has carried on while my mind was devoured by fire.

“Remalla.” His voice is husky, one hand deep inside my armor, fingers inside me. I writhe from the inferno he’s roused even as I fear it.

“What is it?” I pant over his lips, but I don’t care if he answers. I just want to take him and devour him, harsh as I grasp the heated length that I free from his clothes.

He moans this time, pushing against my hand. “It can’t be, not now.” His amber eyes seem to catch fire too, flickers of flame inside them. I’m imagining it, a trick of the moonlight, surely. And yet, the fire is there and it’s in me, too.

His voice drops. “Kinspark.”

The word curls inside me, curves against the sensitive parts of me, and I shudder all over again as his fingers finish what that word started. I melt as the wave of pleasure crests and crashes, my hips heavy on his hand.

He pushes me off, rolling free, tugging at his breeches. “Enough,” he says as I reach for him again. “Remi, enough .”

“ Not enough,” I snarl, gaining my feet, the clasps that secure my armor loose, the sweat and moisture he’s made chilling my exposed skin as the breeze catches it.

“It must be,” Zenthris steps back, wiping at his face with both hands.

“Remi, if I have you now… I won’t let you go.

There’s no time for that. Not yet.” He shakes his head, voice in wonder.

“Kinspark, of all things. Of all times and with all people.” His chuckle is choked, almost broken. “I’ll see you soon, princess.”

He’s gone, leaping away and vanishing into the night.

And I let him go. I fumble for the clasps, secure my armor, hug myself as I crouch in the shadows, and shiver.

Despite the release he offered me, he’s stirred far more than he set free.

Kinspark. What by the fire is that?