Page 39

Marin

The vine was a behemoth, and I peered into the sky as nerves tingled the back of my neck. Then again, I could probably attribute some of those nerves to the silent, brooding man who dropped our packs at the base of the vine, then held out his wrist.

“Uncuff me, Marin.”

I chewed the corner of my lip. “Why didn’t you pick the lock? You could've been out of that thing in ten seconds flat.”

“Because I want you to do it.” His voice was strangely lethal. “You put it on. You take it off.”

“Is this a lesson on the consequences of my actions?” I laughed nervously. “You’re going to put it on me the second I get close enough, aren’t you?”

Gavin’s features remained stony and unreadable.

Five minutes into our journey, and he was already knocking me off balance.

I’d lost control of the situation, epically, and I was starting to wonder if I’d ever had it at all.

What I thought I knew about him, about us, might be wrong. And that was terrifying.

It felt like standing on that ruinous rope bridge again, staring at the board in front of me, unsure if it would hold my weight or send me plummeting into the void. Should I throw myself into his arms or run for the hills?

Running felt safer. It was the path I knew best. I was the queen of avoidance, and this was my kingdom.

“Fine,” I muttered, swallowing some of my nerves, only to have another wave of them bash into me as I stepped closer and removed the key from my pocket.

He watched me, his gaze heavier than one of the monstrous branches attached to the vine as I held his arm steady. With hesitant fingers, I twisted the key in the lock.

The last time we were this close, he’d kissed me. Now he was acting like it never happened. Like the ground hadn’t shifted. And that was before I’d picked the lock on Pandora’s box of Possible Devotion. I was furious. But then again, I'd planned to ignore the kiss, so why shouldn’t he?

The queen of avoidance had found herself a king.

A soft click, and the cuff broke open. When I went to reach for it, Gavin slipped it off, plucked the key from my fingers, and tucked them both into his bag.

I lifted my chin. “I should get to keep the shackle. I bought it.”

“With my money. It’s mine now. Come here.” Gavin crooked his finger.

My feet rebelled, boots whispering of the danger in that deadly crook of his finger. The laces promised certain death.

But the rest of my body betrayed me.

I edged toward him. Gavin hooked his thumb into my belt and hauled me even closer.

A yelp caught in my throat, but it burned away before I made a sound. I held perfectly still as he wrapped my harness around my waist. His fingers brushed my hip, firm but efficient, adjusting the straps with single-minded precision .

He smelled good. Clean skin mixed with the faint scent of something woodsy. And he was close. Leaning over me, inspecting every buckle, every inch of the leather.

“It’s brand new,” I murmured.

“Doesn’t mean it’s infallible.”

“No. I suppose not. There isn’t much in this life that is one hundred percent reliable.”

Gavin’s fingers tightened around the last buckle, tugging the strap securely. I tipped my head back, our faces inches apart. His breath ghosted over my cheek.

A steely glint hardened in his eyes. “Yeah. Very few things are.” His fingers flexed around my harness. “But sometimes you get lucky.”

There was lead in the air. Or something heavier that filled my lungs and made it hard to breathe. I cleared it from my throat, only to sound hoarse when I spoke.

“Do you want me to check your gear?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “No. You’d probably loosen it.”

My lips formed into a surly snarl. “Hmm… I guess we’ll never know.” I pressed the flat of my hand against his chest and pushed, giving myself some space. “Now that you mention it… Maybe I should check your work.”

A low sound rumbled in Gavin’s throat as he turned on his heel to finish preparing for the climb.

I flashed a victorious smirk at his back.

The queen of avoidance had expanded her territory into the Land of Snark, and she planned to stay awhile.

** *

Three hours later, and I officially regretted stealing the seeds.

My muscles burned, already beyond exhausted from the exertion, and thanks to the magical vine pulling us up at an unnatural pace, the ground had nearly vanished.

Below us was nothing more than a hazy stretch of color, and my stomach pitched violently every time I looked down.

Which, despite my better judgment, was every few minutes.

Gavin climbed beneath me, effortlessly matching my pace. He didn’t seem half as tired, and I hated that for him. It was his fault I’d had no sleep.

The only thing working in my favor was that the vine was easier to climb than I’d expected. There were plenty of handholds, sturdy branches, and enough places to pause to catch my breath.

I sucked down a stream of water from my flask and wiped the sweat from my brow. The harness kept me securely in place, not a single wobble, thanks to Gavin’s meticulous inspection. Now definitely wasn’t the time to test its return policy.

“Is it too late to hire a rogue bunch of treasure hunters to search for the shard?” I joked, keeping my eyes fixed on the vine stalk in front of me and not the hundreds of feet of thin air below. “How much money do you have left?”

Gavin let out a sound that was half grunt, half laugh. “Not as much as I had yesterday, thanks to you. Besides, we are the rogue bunch of treasure hunters.”

“Pity that. I’m starting to reevaluate some of my choices.” I pushed myself toward a higher branch, leaves tickling against the side of my face.

“Only a few?” Gavin glanced up at me, his eyes glinting with teasing amusement.

“Yes, well, we aren’t all built like predatory beasts. Some of us have delicate bone structures.”

Gavin huffed a quiet laugh. “There’s nothing delicate about you.”

We kept climbing, pushing ourselves past our limits. The ground had long since vanished, replaced by an endless stretch of white. A thick, swirling mist wrapped around my body, cool against my overheated skin. Time dragged, marked only by water breaks and a few breathless exchanges of conversation.

Mostly, I was too exhausted to talk. Too exhausted to think.

It took everything I had just to keep going.

The shard, my prison—they felt like distant, intangible things.

Were they worth all this trouble? Was my life?

At this altitude, it was hard to tell. Bone-deep fatigue whispered how easy it would be to let it all go.

But I kept climbing because Gavin was beneath me, waiting. A silent tether, pulling me forward.

My fingers throbbed inside my gloves; the extra traction was barely enough against the vine, which had grown slippery in the mist. With every labored breath, a rich, earthy aroma filled my lungs, grounding me against the howling wind.

One moment, the gusts pressed me into the stalk; the next, they threatened to rip me away.

The daylight dwindled, shadows stretching like claws across the twisting branches of the vine. A dull ache pounded behind my eyes. I reached up, muscles trembling, my arm heavy as stone.

The slick branch slipped through my fingers .

My foot missed its hold.

Air. Nothing but air.

My shriek echoed in my ears as I plunged, stomach lurching. I squeezed my eyes shut against the white-hot panic that had stopped my heart.

“Marin!” Gavin’s shout tore through the wind.

My harness yanked, a brutal jolt. The force whipped me sideways. I slammed into the vine, pain vibrating through my shoulders. Gavin’s grip crushed my wrist as he hauled me up, pinning me against the stalk. He flattened his body over mine as my lungs struggled to take in air.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was tight.

I shook my head; terror stealing my words. Hands shaking, I fisted them into Gavin’s shirt like he was an anchor. My head dropped against his shoulder. How had I ever imagined doing this alone?

“I’ve got you,” Gavin murmured against my temple. “I won’t let go.”

My next breath was sharp and painful as I dragged it past the knot wedged in my throat.

“I know,” I whispered, certain he couldn’t hear it over the roaring wind.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then Gavin placed another hook into the vine, attaching the lead to my harness for extra strength. He tipped his head back, searching for something overhead.

“We should stop for the night. Both of us are too tired to keep pushing.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m barely winded,” I joked, finally able to form coherent words.

“Ah, there she is. I was worried the vine knocked all the sarcasm out of you.”

“I’ll cut the sarcasm when I’m dead.”

Gavin brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. “Let’s not test that theory, shall we?”

I glanced down into nothing. “Fine. But only because there are less horrifying ways to die than plunging into a bottomless void.”

Gavin chuckled. “Oh, there’s a bottom. We can’t see it, but we'd feel it.”

I shot him a disgruntled look, my voice dripping with scorn. “You’re my greatest source of comfort. Like sitting on a sea urchin.”

“My life for your comfort, Mare.” He winked, and my heart tripped. “Come on. Looks like there’s a branch a short climb up that will work for us.”

We maneuvered up the vine until we reached a thick branch that twisted like a spiral around the main stalk. It created a narrow recess, blocking most of the wind, and would allow us to sit with our backs against the branch.

Only one problem. Did I mention it was narrow?

Gavin hooked our ropes into the vine and pulled them tight while I surveyed the hollow nook. We’d both fit, that wasn’t the issue. It was how we’d fit that had my pulse hammering. We’d be pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, with little room outside of that.

“After you.” Gavin gestured to the opening.

“Don’t you think we should find a wider perch? You know, something with more space to stretch our legs.”

Or our entire bodies. Points if he was on one side of the vine, and I was on the other.

Gavin removed his pack and dropped it into the hollow, giving us even less room. I swear he smirked when he did it.

“No. This is perfect. The sun’s going down and the wind is picking up. It’s going to be freezing up here. Less room helps us conserve body heat. Plus, the shape of the branch prevents us from falling.”

“How functional. You’re right. It’s a pragmatic haven.

” I cringed internally. The man wasn’t affected at all.

It was infuriating! I might as well have been some stranger he met on the climb up.

Meanwhile, I was contemplating building an elaborate hammock with our ropes so I could hang off the vine.

Alone. That way, he wouldn’t witness me crawling into his lap when the weather turned.

Slipping off my pack, I held it against my chest like a bulky shield as I crawled into the snug space.

The wind was muffled, and it was slightly warmer, but not by much.

Contorting my body as close to the vine as I could, I made space for Gavin.

Though space was a generous word, and he filled it completely after he eased inside.

Cue the awkward silence.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, my voice too high. Too fast. I was stiff as a board, my neck pinched, shoulders tense.

Gavin shifted beside me, his voice low and coated in rust. “Starving.”

Gods… the way he said it.

My mind didn’t just veer off the vine, it plummeted headfirst into the abyss.

“Me, too.”

I woodenly searched my pack and removed a selection of hardtack, dried apples, and some strips of meat. Anything to keep my hands busy.

We ate our meal in silence; the wind doing most of the talking.

I chewed slowly, pretending I was as cool and collected as he seemed. The hardtack was way more enticing than the warmth emanating from his body. The apples were more delicious than the sturdy feel of his thigh pressed against mine, the way our shoulders touched. The meat—

For treasure’s sake, who was I kidding?

The food sucked. I wanted to crawl into his lap, let him wrap his arms around me, and soak up all his heat… and maybe do a few other things, too.

With a huff, I shoved my pack behind me like a pillow, giving it a good whack as if it could knock some sense into me.

Then I settled in, determined to sleep. And it had better be a dreamless one!

But the cold made sleep impossible. The sunlight was gone.

All we had was the glow from our lights, casting eerie shadows over the vine.

I shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in my spine, but cold air seeped in, and I shivered.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t even acknowledge it.

Probably because he was big as a bear and had more than enough warmth to keep him comfortable.

Wretched thief.

But soon, even the cold wasn’t a match for my fatigue-drained limbs. My eyes grew heavy-lidded, and my head dipped once before I jerked myself back up.

The second time my head dipped, it landed against something solid. Warm. I craved the heat, and I let it lull me deeper. All of my tension melted from the steady rise and fall of his breath. The way he didn’t push me away. And maybe, just as I drifted off, pulled me closer.