Page 40

Gavin

Marin’s head settled against my shoulder, and I forgot how to breathe. She’d gone from haunting me to ending me, and I welcomed every agonizing second.

I had pretended not to notice her shallow breaths. The twitch in her fingers. A shiver she tried to hide. The way she filled the space with her unique brand of resistance that only made me want to drag her against me until we fit.

Because we did—we fit perfectly.

She was a fighter. Everything was a battle: against me, the witch, the world that wasn’t fair. Except for this brief moment, when her head dipped against my shoulder, and she slept.

My arm crept carefully around her waist, pulling her tight to my side. Sharing my warmth until she stopped shivering, and a quiet hum of contentment slipped from her lips.

Dead. I was dead.

I needed sleep too. My muscles ached. Each of my fingers was raw and cramped from clinging to the rough branches. My nerves were frayed, still unraveling from watching Marin lose her grip.

Our hunt was only going to get worse.

The climb had been merciless, and more waited in the morning.

But more of this wasn’t waiting for me, so I stayed awake, listening to the wind, and not my internal voice telling me something had changed.

Not because of the kiss. That had been reckless and driven by the complete and utter mayhem that had boiled my blood.

She’d chained me.

Left me.

If it hadn’t been for a stroke of luck, I’d still be shackled to a rail. And luck had no place when it came to keeping Marin safe. Luck was the enemy. Certainty was my companion.

But something had changed.

My head dropped against the branch, followed by a weary sigh. I just didn’t know if that something was in my favor, or if she planned to leave me again. Marin never saw failure as the final round. She fought harder. Evaded quicker.

What if next time, I didn’t get lucky?

Marin mumbled something in her sleep, and I braced her back as I gently lowered her head into my lap. She curled into herself, her breath evening out again. And only then did I let myself drift off, too.

***

The morning came too fast.

Marin stirred, stretching like a sleepy cat, her body soft and pliant, every movement unguarded. Her hair had fallen loose from its cord, spilling around her shoulders in tangled waves. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her nose wrinkled like she was trying not to wake.

Then her eyes fluttered open and met mine.

She froze .

The pink on her cheeks flared to crimson, and her mouth opened without sound. She looked ready to bolt but had nowhere to run.

Perks of the vine, I guess.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, rolling off me with a wince. “I told you this space was too small for both of us. You should've moved me.”

I shrugged, my fingers flexing from the cold and the ache to drag her back into my lap.

“You were keeping me warm. And the conversation you had with yourself in your sleep was worth its weight in gold.”

She gasped. “I do not talk in my sleep!” Her nose twitched, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “What did I say?”

“That you find me incredibly charming. Handsome. Strong and capable. There was a lot of hero worshiping.”

Marin’s gaze narrowed. “Now I know you’re lying. The only thing I’ve ever worshiped in regards to you was your absence.”

I bit down on a smile. “Brutal, Mare.”

She flattened her lips and yanked her pack in front of her. Wards up. As if a bundle of clothes, some food rations, and the rest of her gear were enough to keep me at bay.

“I guess I won’t mention the moaning, then.”

Her pack landed in my face. I laughed.

She scrambled out of the nook, her face still flaming, and stood with fists clenched on the branch, facing the void. For a moment, she just breathed. I gave her that. Then I grabbed my pack and followed.

I checked her harness and the lead clipped into the vine. “Here. I’ll climb around to the other side. Let you have a little privacy. You can get cleaned up, and we’ll leave in an hour. Deal? ”

“Don’t trip,” she muttered. Then her features softened slightly as she cleared her throat. “I just mean, we still have a long way to go. And I wouldn’t want to use up all my energy trying to save you.”

“Definitely. Save your strength.” I tugged her line gently. “Don’t get too close to the edge. Shout if you fall.”

“Same.”

I shook my head, another laugh under my breath, and waited until she stepped back from the ledge. Then I reached for the nearest branch and climbed over it. An hour later, I’d changed clothes, eaten some more hardtack, and steeled myself for the second part of our climb.

Marin waited for me, leaning against the vine.

Wind caught wisps of her hair, brushing them across her temple.

She wore a fresh tunic, and it hugged her curves, the pale blue trim a perfect match for her eyes.

My gaze lingered, even when she straightened, and this time it was the tips of her ears that turned pink.

Easy to miss unless you knew her flustered tell.

“What are you looking at?” She smoothed the sides of her tunic as if she'd put it on inside out.

My boots crunched over the vine, flattening leaves until I stood in front of her. I gripped the rope attached to her harness and gently tugged her closer. My hand settled on her waist as I leaned in, the other tilting her chin to the east.

“The sunrise,” I murmured, letting my gaze trace the curve of her face. “It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen it.”

“Oh...” She blinked, her throat working as she swallowed. “Of course. I don’t know why I thought…” Her ears were on fire, voice twisting with a strange note as she tried to recover. “The sunrise is very nice. Orange.”

Marin cringed, a curse slipping between her teeth .

“Yes, it’s very orange.” I coughed behind my fist to hide my amusement. “We’d better go before I’m knocked off this vine by your poetic observation.”

Marin growled.

Gods, she was perfect.

I adjusted my pack and turned toward the next stretch of vine. Time to move. Marin led the way, a little slower than yesterday, but we were both still drained from the first leg. Fortunately, the rest of our climb went smoothly, and we reached the top just as the very orange sun was setting.

Marin sank onto a large rock to catch her breath. She sipped deeply from her flask while I checked the map. Real food and shelter were the top priorities. Then we could plan the journey to the castle.

Even at half power, Annie’s map was surprisingly detailed, going so far as to show our starting point at the top of the vine. The closest town lay west, stretched along the ridgeline, a mile or two away. But to the east, the land gave way to a wild forest of towering trees and tropical vegetation.

Mist clung to the air, thick and humid despite the altitude. The sun had dipped below the cloud line, turning the wispy expanse into a field of gold that radiated heat. Above us, the sky deepened into a rich blue, streaked with iridescent color as the first stars emerged.

“How does a real bed sound?” I asked as I tucked the map into my pack.

Marin capped her flask and struggled to her feet. “Like I may never leave it. In fact, you might even get the tiniest smidge of the hero worship you were going on about.”

“Tempting as always.” I swung her pack over my other shoulder and gestured to the rocky path that led west. “Too bad you spent all my money. I hope you brought room fare.”

She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “And he falls from his pedestal. I hope your mattress is lumpy.”

“So I guess that’s a no to sharing, and the smidge of hero worship.”

Marin groaned, her steps slow and shaking. “Honestly, I’m so tired I’d share my bed with a dragon if he offered me a pillow. So fine. Might as well be you.”

“That sounds like hero worship to me.”

“No. That’s bed worship. You’re just basking in its aura.”

I chuckled softly. “At least I know I rank alongside a dragon. I’ll take what I can get.”

She looked back at me, an odd gleam in her eyes as if she was trying to figure me out. But she didn’t say anything. Then she shook her head, her brow furrowed with whatever she’d uncovered, and kept walking.

The sky darkened as night settled across the cliffs. Buildings clung to the mountain face, their lanterns glinting like gold coins scattered across the rock.

We climbed a set of narrow steps chiseled straight into the cliff.

On one side, a thick rope threaded through iron hooks hammered into the ridge.

On the other, there was nothing but open air.

The last few steps led onto a massive bluff, where huts jutted out over the abyss, their foundations secured deep into the ledges.

Thatched roofs were dotted with glass tiles, allowing glimpses of the stars.

Wind tugged at my clothes as we crossed the bluff and stepped into the main hut of the inn.

The air inside was warmer and scented with something spiced.

An old man greeted us at the counter. He slid a brass key across the surface, eyeing us carefully, noting our travel-worn clothes and tired expressions.

“First time in Aetheryal? We usually only see tired faces like yours on people who have just climbed the vine. But don’t worry, after a day or two among the clouds, you’ll feel brand new.”

Marin smiled faintly. “We’re not staying long. Just the night.”

He glanced at our gear. “Ah, hunters then. This is the last stop before the castle. I won’t try to dissuade you.

It never works, but you should speak to my wife before you leave.

You can find her in the saltwater pools taking her morning swim.

She knows what waits for you.” The old man pointed a gnarled finger out the door.

“In the meantime, you can wash up in the bathhouse. Your clothes, too. And there’s food at the tavern at the base of the cliff. ”

“Thank you.” Marin tucked the key away, and we left to find the bathhouse.