27. Aria
Aria
Roan holds me like she means it, like she won’t let go unless I force her to. And gods help me, I don’t want to force her to.
I close my eyes and breathe her in—smoke and steel, something earthy beneath it, something that has started to feel like home.
But we don’t have time to linger in this stolen moment.
She exhales against my temple before finally pulling back, though her hands stay firm on my waist. Her brow is drawn tight, mouth set in a way that tells me she’s already thinking ahead.
The bounty has changed everything.
The walls of this inn, this room, had started to feel safe. That was a mistake.
Her voice is steady, but there's tension beneath it. "Well, we can’t stay. Every minute we do, the risk gets higher. So let’s pack.”
I swallow, forcing my gaze to the window, imagining the streets below. "And go where? Every town within a day's ride will hear about the bounty soon enough. Running only buys us time."
"Time's the only thing keeping us alive right now," she counters, setting the blade aside. "And I'd rather have more of it."
I bite my lip. She’s right. But the weight of this chase—of dragging her into my mess—settles heavy in my chest. "You don't have to do this," I say softly.
Roan exhales sharply, shaking her head. "We’re not having that conversation again, Mouse."
I turn to face her, heart pounding. "It’s not just about me, Roan. If they realize you’re with me, if they put a price on your head too—"
"We'll be careful." She stands, slipping the knife into its sheath.
I let out a bitter laugh. "Careful? The bounty’s high enough to turn anyone’s head. And we don’t even know how many enforcers are already in this town looking for me."
Roan strides toward me, her presence as solid and steady as always. "Then we find out," she says. "We listen, we watch, we figure out what our next move is. But we don’t panic. And we don’t separate."
The finality in her tone leaves no room for argument.
Her expression softens, and for the first time since the kiss, she reaches out, fingertips brushing mine. "We’ll figure this out," she says, quieter now. "Together. You promised."
I nod, exhaling shakily.
Together.
For however long that lasts.
The warmth of her body radiates against mine, and my heart stumbles over itself as she lifts a calloused hand, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.
How did I let myself get this attached?
Her fingers linger against my jaw, the barest whisper of contact, and I ache at how careful she is with me.
I lean in first.
The kiss is soft, slower than before, but no less consuming. It deepens, her hand sliding down to my waist, pulling me into her again. I don’t realize I’m trembling until she soothes a thumb over my knuckles.
Her thumb strokes absently over my jaw, but there’s something else in her eyes now. Something sharp, assessing, as we pull back.
Roan tilts her head, studying me. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
I blink, swallowing around the sudden tightness in my throat. “What look?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she reaches up, fingers ghosting over my cheek, my temple, like she’s cataloging every flicker of tension in my expression. It’s infuriating how easily she reads me, how she sees through the careful control I cling to.
Then, softly, she murmurs, “You’re hungry.”
I stiffen. Shame curls up my spine. “I—” I swallow. “A bit.”
It’s a lie. I need to feed. My last feeding wasn’t nearly enough—animal blood never is. Now my veins hum with a hunger I’ve been ignoring since last night, the same hunger that made me flee my clan in search of a better way.
Roan’s hand moves to my waist again, pulling me close enough that I can feel the steady beat of her heart. “Then let me help,” she murmurs.
A shiver runs through me, my body betraying me even as my mind stumbles to catch up. “Help?” I echo, wary.
Her grip on my waist tightens ever so slightly. “I was going to hunt for you,” she says, voice calm, measured. “A rabbit. Something to hold you over. But this—” she tilts her chin down, her dark gaze locking onto mine “—this might work, too.”
It takes a second for the meaning to sink in.
Then my stomach plummets.
I jerk back, horror slamming into my chest as I pull away from her. “Roan, no,” I blurt. “I won’t feed on you. I—I can’t .”
Her brows knit together. “Why not?”
I stare at her, heart hammering. “Are you serious?” My voice comes out higher than I want, thin with disbelief.
Roan doesn’t flinch. “Completely.”
Panic curls its way up my throat. I shake my head. “It’s dangerous.”
Her mouth twitches at that, not quite a smile. “You think I’m afraid of a little danger, Mouse?”
The nickname doesn’t land like it usually does, playful and teasing. Instead, it sits tight beneath my ribs, pressing down on something raw.
“This isn’t a fight in the woods, Roan,” I say, barely managing to keep my voice steady. “Or a well-placed dagger or some quick-footed maneuver. This is me sinking my teeth into you.”
Her expression doesn’t waver, not even a flicker of doubt. “I trust you.”
My stomach twists. “That’s not the point.”
She exhales sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. “Then explain it to me.”
I swallow hard. “If I lose control, I could kill you.” What more is there to explain?
Roan studies me for a long, agonizing moment. Then she steps forward, slow, deliberate, closing the space between us once more.
“Do you want to?” she asks softly.
The question knocks the breath from my lungs. “What?”
She tilts her head, dark eyes steady. “Do you want to kill me?”
The sheer ridiculousness of it almost makes me laugh. Gods, she’s infuriating.
“No,” I snap. “Of course not.”
She nods like she expected that answer. “Then you won’t.”
I let out a sharp, disbelieving breath. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Doesn’t it?” She lifts a brow. “You’ve fed before without killing, haven’t you?”
My throat tightens. “That was different.”
“How?”
Because it wasn’t you, I want to say. Because the hunger was never tangled up in something else—something deeper, something I don’t want to name. Because it wasn’t like this.
The notion of biting her, sinking my fangs into her skin—it simultaneously terrifies and tempts me. Images flicker through my imagination: the warmth of her blood, the closeness of our bodies.
A bolt of heat rushes through me, sharp and unwelcome. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head vehemently. “No,” I whisper. “I promised myself I’d never feed on a human again.”
She cups my face, her touch so achingly gentle it almost breaks me. “Aria,” she murmurs, thumb brushing my lower lip. “It’s your choice. But if we’re on the run, it might get harder for you to find animals. Harder to stay healthy.”
I can’t breathe. I hate that she’s right. My control is fraying, and the road ahead of us isn’t getting any easier. Still, the thought of taking from her—of feeling her pulse under my lips, of tasting her, even for a second—scares me more than anything.
I swallow past the hunger clawing up my throat. “If I lose control—”
“You won’t.”
The world tilts. The hunger in me roars at the offer, the call of her blood so close, so willingly given. I feel my pulse rise, a tingling at the edges of my senses.
I shudder. “You don’t know that.”
She studies me for a long moment before nodding. “Alright,” she says softly. “Then we’ll find another way.”
Relief crashes over me, but beneath it, something else lingers. A low, persistent ache. A hunger that has nothing to do with blood.
I slide my hands up her arms, fingers ghosting over the scars and callouses. I’ll never get sick of kissing her, will I?
This is dangerous. This is selfish. You’re selfish, Aria.
But the thoughts are easily silenced when our lips meet again. Warmth floods my chest, and a darker, deeper need pulses through me. I part my lips, tasting her, letting the sweetness mingle with the sharp tang of longing. She gives a low, throaty sigh, her body pressing closer until there’s no space between us.
We break apart, foreheads touching, breath mingling in the hush of the room. I can sense her willingness, her trust—and it both exhilarates and terrifies me.
“I’ve…heard things. That it doesn’t have to hurt—that it can even feel…good.” She swallows, the faintest color tinging her cheeks. “We could keep it controlled.”
“I…” I start, voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She brushes her fingers through my hair, calming my frayed nerves. “You won’t.”
There it is again: the reassurance that I’m more than a monster.
I’m not sure if it’s belief or bravado, but her certainty warms me. My fangs ache in response, the hunger surging again. I resist it, for now, pressing a softer kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“Roan…” I murmur in protest.
She seems to understand; she lets out a small, rueful laugh and glances at the door. “We should get ready to leave then,” she murmurs. “Before the wrong person recognizes you.” She threads her fingers with mine, gives my hand a small, reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure out the rest,” she says, as if she’s heard my worries. “All of it.”
Looking into her eyes, the hunger twists into a more profound ache—one for safety, acceptance…love. I haven’t let myself want these things for a long time, but Roan’s presence makes it impossible not to hope.
“Together,” I promise, swallowing the lump in my throat.
She bows her head, kissing my temple, and I close my eyes, savoring the hush of her breath against my skin. Then, reluctantly, we pull apart so we can prepare to travel once more.
***
Roan left not long ago, strapping her sword to her back with a firm, “Stay put, Mouse. I won’t be long.”
We need supplies, and Roan is better suited to move through town unnoticed. She knows how to blend in, how to keep her head down. I, on the other hand, have a bounty on my head.
Still, waiting is worse.
I’ve spent the last twenty minutes pacing the cramped inn room, crossing from the window to the door and back again, arms folded.
What if she doesn’t come back?
I shake off the thought and exhale sharply. Paranoia won’t help. Roan is careful, and she promised she wouldn’t take long.
The floor creaks under my boots as I move to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temple. The room feels smaller by the second, too warm, too—
The door creaks open behind me. I hadn't even heard it unlock.
My heart lurches. Roan’s back earlier than expected. That’s good—we need to leave as soon as possible. The weight in my chest lightens as I turn—
Then I see who’s standing in the doorway.
Selis.
Every nerve in my body goes taut. She leans against the doorframe, all sharp angles and cocky amusement, her dark eyes sweeping the cramped room before settling on me.
“Well, well,” she drawls, crossing her arms over her chest. “Look at you. Settling in like you belong.”
I say nothing, my breath locked in my throat. She shouldn’t be here. How the hell did she find us? My mind races, counting the possible exits, but I don’t move—not yet. If she’s alone, I can handle her.
Her smirk widens, as if she can hear my churning thoughts. “Relax, sweetheart. If I wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this lovely little chat.”
I force my spine straight, masking the unease slithering through me. “What do you want then?”
Selis steps into the room, shutting the door behind her with an infuriating amount of ease. Like she belongs here. Like she’s done it before.
“I was in town, grabbing a drink,” she muses, inspecting her nails as she strolls forward. “Then I hear some interesting news. A runaway with a price on her pretty little head. Imagine my surprise when I realize the description sounds… familiar.”
Her gaze lifts, piercing me.
My stomach tightens, but I keep my expression smooth. “Is that right?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb.” Her gaze flicks over me, slow and deliberate. “I knew Roan had a soft spot for strays. I told her it would get her into trouble one day.”
I grit my teeth at the way she says it, the implication curling around her words like smoke.
Selis doesn’t stop moving until she’s close—too close. I smell the leather and steel on her, the faint hint of ale clinging to her breath. I don’t back away. I won’t give her the satisfaction.
Her lips curve. “You think she’s yours, don’t you?”
I go still. A flicker of heat—not from embarrassment, but from fury—ignites in my chest.
She laughs, low and knowing. “I’ve seen that look before. The way you stiffened up when I found you two roughing it south of here. The way you’re looking at me now. You don’t just want to survive—you want to keep her. Like she’s some prize you’ve got your bloodsucker claws in.”
I keep my voice steady, controlled. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Selis leans in, voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. “I know Roan. And trust me, sweetheart, she doesn’t—”
I don’t let her finish.
I move fast—faster than she expects. My foot hooks around hers as I shove forward, sending her off balance. At the same time, I grab her wrist, twisting it behind her back with a strength that shocks even me. She hisses, cursing as she stumbles forward, her knee hitting the rickety table with a thud.
For a heartbeat, she freezes.
Then, to my utter confusion, she lets out a short, sharp laugh.
“Well, shit,” she breathes, panting slightly. “That’s a Roan move.”
I tighten my grip, jaw clenched. “She’s been teaching me.”
“No kidding.” Selis shifts her weight, testing my hold. I don’t let up.
“Tell me something, sweetheart,” she drawls, voice laced with something that makes my stomach tighten—not fear, but something colder, something that makes me want to bare my teeth. “What do you think she sees in you?”
I stiffen.
Selis smirks, reading me too easily. “She’s got a type, you know. The desperate ones. The ones who need saving.” She tilts her head just enough to look up at me properly, eyes gleaming. “She plays the hero well enough, but she never sticks around, not really. Must be nice thinking you’re different.”
My grip falters. Just for a second.
That’s all she needs.
With a sharp twist, she wrenches free, slamming her elbow into my ribs as she flips our positions. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and before I can recover, she’s the one pinning me down, her knee pressing just enough into my stomach to keep me still.
“Too easy,” she murmurs, clicking her tongue.
I buck against her hold, but she’s already leaning in, breath warm against my cheek. “You’re sloppy,” she says, faux sympathy dripping from every syllable. “Should’ve known you’d fall for it. But hey, don’t feel too bad—you’re not the first to underestimate me.”
I bare my fangs. “You cheated.”
She snickers, pressing a little more weight onto me. “And? Thought Roan was teaching you how to fight dirty?”
My muscles tense, but I force myself to stay still. Fighting head-on won’t work. She’s stronger than me. I need another angle.
Selis lets out a slow, pleased breath. “Shame you’re worth more alive.”
My pulse stutters.
She grins down at me, enjoying this. “Took me all of five minutes to figure out which room you were in.”
I glare up at her, fury burning beneath my skin. “You followed Roan.”
“Watched her leave, actually,” she corrects, lazy and smug. “Figured she’d be back soon, but I was too curious to pass up a peek inside. And look what I found.” She taps my chin with a finger, like I’m some amusement. “Roan’s little pet.”
I see red.
I don’t think—I just act.
My knee jerks up, slamming hard into her ribs. She gasps, grip loosening just enough for me to twist out from under her. I move fast, using the momentum to grab her wrist and yank her sideways, throwing her off-balance.
This time, when she lands on the floor, I don’t hesitate.
I pin her with my knee, grip iron-tight on her wrist. The dagger I snatched from her belt presses just under her chin.
Selis stills.
Then, slowly—infuriatingly—she grins.
“Well,” she breathes, voice thick with something close to admiration. “Now that’s a Roan move.”
We’re both panting heavily when the door creaks open again.
Roan steps inside, arms full of supplies. She halts mid-step, eyes darting between me and Selis.
A beat of silence.
Then, dryly, “What the fuck?”