Chapter 14
Our gazes meet in a head-on collision.
My already racing pulse begins to pound. It’s like last night all over again, when we both pulled a weapon and were stuck in a standoff. Except, instead of trying to win the draw, I’m daring him to go first. Go on – quit.
Of course, he doesn’t. Those overly perceptive eyes are locked on me, so studious. Damnation, this is so uncomfortable. The urge to look away is up there with breathing.
Time passes at a glacial pace, so I opt to disassociate.
My brain has already locked in too much information.
The masculine angle of his cheekbones. The fresh shave on his tanned skin.
I especially don’t want to feel how he’s slowly peeling me apart, layer by layer.
But before I can imagine myself somewhere – anywhere – else, his gaze moves, sliding from my left eye to focus on my right.
It leaves a trail of heat as it drags across my skin.
I exhale.
His head tilts, then he quirks an eyebrow.
Stop it. How is it possible he’s enjoying this?
They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and I’m beginning to worry that might be true. He seems too satisfied with what he’s uncovering, with no intent to end it.
My cheek twitches with the urge to check the timer. What are we at? Two minutes? Three? Maybe quitting and risking a punishment is worth it.
Ryland releases a heavy breath.
Bored? I refocus and cock my head at him. Maybe you should quit.
A hint of a smile appears on his face. Then his excavation of me continues.
This is all part of Atlas’s hare-brained plan to get Ryland to fall in love with me. It’s not going to work. I sit up straighter. Fill my lungs. Hang on; you’re almost done.
But then Ryland’s gaze moves again, meandering like a raindrop down the branches of a tree. It lingers. Settles in places, like my lashes, the freckles on my nose.
I bite my lip. This is too intimate.
I’m not making this uncomfortable enough for him.
I lean in, done being dissected. Okay, my turn. Show me your secrets. I’m not sure what his eyes are telling me, so I debate the shade of blue.
His pupils dilate.
Oh? What’s that about? I edge closer and his dark lashes blink faster.
My lips tug to the side. Do I make you nervous, Ryland?
He has a small scar on the corner of his brow.
A flaw, though not really. More like a carving on the handle of a beautiful knife.
I search for more past injuries, meticulously exploring the bends and slopes of –
His tongue slides over his bottom lip.
My skin prickles. Do not look there.
But he seems to know the temptation I’m resisting as the intensity in his gaze increases. Energy sparks and builds between us, and I feel it low in my stom–
My breath hitches, and I break our stare, turning my head away.
‘Time,’ the Commander says.
I’m breathless as I study my lap, recovering. What was that? What just happened?
‘My turn,’ Agatha says eagerly. ‘Ready?’
Ryland takes a big drink from his cup before turning to her.
Agatha smiles as their gaze meets, and Ryland grins in return.
I don’t know why but watching them suddenly feels like staring at the sun.
They laugh at the uncomfortableness. Agatha cringes.
It couldn’t be more different from when Ryland did this with me.
No deadly standoff. Nothing but fun. Agatha bites her lip, her eyes growing wide as she fights the polite need to look away.
Then suddenly her gaze jerks to the wall.
She loses. ‘Oh, no,’ she cries in laughter. ‘I didn’t mean to do that.’
‘Yes, well, I don’t think anyone’s surprised,’ mutters Atlas.
I grab my goblet and chug down the need to punch him in the throat.
‘Marian, take Ryland to the lake for his prize,’ Atlas says, dismissing us. ‘Agatha, you can go to bed.’
I rise from the table, eager to make my escape.
‘Thank you for the evening, Commander,’ Ryland says carefully. ‘I look forward to discussing business tomorrow. And Agatha, pleasure to meet you.’ Then his footsteps follow me from the cavernous room.
Guardsmen stare as I speed out of the compound. I must look ridiculous in this old-world dress. Even Soren, standing guard with Diggs, openly watches me. His gaze snaps to Ryland, who’s calling my name, trying to catch up.
I’m tempted to break into a sprint. At the hitching post, I bolt left. Almost there.
‘Are we not going to the waterfall?’ Ryland asks when he’s only feet behind me.
It’s annoying how much longer his stride is than mine.
‘We are not going anywhere together.’ I reach the next corner of the compound, leading to the back.
Another hundred steps or so and I’ll be below my bedroom window – my preferred passageway to it, avoiding both people and the winding maze of the compound.
‘Wait. Wait. Wait,’ he says, appearing before me, forcing me to stop.
His urgency seems to evaporate at having my attention, and it’s like he’s seeing into me again. Peeling layers back.
Something flutters in my chest, until I remember he’s threatened to ruin my life. Why do I keep forgetting that? I wait another couple of seconds for him to speak. ‘Okay, nice chat. Good night.’
‘Wait!’ he says, stepping with me as I try to leave. ‘Where are you going?’
As if that’s any of his concern. I cross my arms. ‘What’s the name of your settlement, Ryland?’
His mouth opens, and for some reason he looks like he might actually answer.
‘Don’t tell me,’ I snap. ‘I’m trying to prove a point.’
His forehead creases.
‘Where you live is none of my business. And where I’m going is none of yours. I’m not doing this – taking you to the lake. You know why? Because you’re not supposed to be here. Please don’t follow me.’
‘Okay, but can I say something first? Your father … how he acted in there. He’s a real bully sometimes, isn’t he?’
‘Don’t call him that.’
‘Oh.’ His face pinches. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just at dinner, I got the impression you might not … approve of the way he –’
‘I don’t approve. I meant, don’t call him my father. He absolutely is a bully.’
His chest swells with a relieved breath. Then he smiles, showing off a hint of dimples.
My stomach tumbles. Damnation, what’s happening to me? I turn my head to leave.
‘Wait – one more thing,’ he adds, then winces, struggling with how to start.
‘I can see why the Commander is shrewd with me; I’m a stranger.
But you and Agatha, it’s like he stabs you just to watch you bleed.
That’s unacceptable. Spineless. And … I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve made some assumptions that I shouldn’t have …
about you and how things work around here. ’
For a second, his words are gratifying in a way I can’t explain – until I’m reminded it’s to his benefit to weaponise every scrap of information he collects on me.
Give me a reason not to turn you in.
‘Listen, as happy as I am that you’re figuring out the Commander has the charm of an unmedicated amputation, you threatened me.’ Technically, I also threatened him, but that’s beside the point.
His face falters.
‘I’m also still unconvinced you’re not planning a raid on Notting.’
That’s a lie. After everything that happened in the High Command this evening, something’s changed between us.
Call it intuition, I don’t know. But I believe him.
Or maybe I’m finally open to the facts: why request miner’s safety lamps in the mine if his settlement is going to raid and take over?
Why compromise with Atlas, refusing to bend to his every whim, if Ryland were going to kill us all?
It doesn’t change what has to happen, though. I step closer, leaning into him, and lower my voice to a whisper. ‘But for a moment, forget my concerns about you and listen to me. If you care about your settlement, run.’
He swallows, taking his time before responding. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘You would if you understood the stakes. The Commander is … very manipulative.’
Ryland angles even closer to me. He’s a head taller, but now we’re only inches apart. His scent of leather with a hint of wood smoke envelops me. An unfamiliar nervous energy vibrates through my body.
‘Are you saying there’s no coal to be had?’ he asks quietly.
‘There’s coal,’ I say softly. ‘But it will come at a terrible price. Atlas sees your well-made clothes and weapons and wants your wealth.’ I bite my lip.
Have I said enough? No. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened because I wasn’t absolutely clear.
‘He will raid your settlement if he finds out where it is.’
Ryland’s head lifts, his eyes hardening. ‘I’m not worried.’
‘Then your arrogance will be your downfall. Because you should be.’
‘He doesn’t …’ Ryland stops himself from speaking at normal volume, again inclining his head.
His lips are so close his breath tickles my ear.
‘He doesn’t know the name or location of our settlement.
And our army – it’s formidable. He’d be foolish to attempt anything.
Plenty have tried before him, and every one of them failed. ’
My chest rises and falls shallowly. It’s dizzying having him so close. Almost as much as staring into his eyes. ‘The Commander is biding his time. Stalling to gather information. Even if you reach a deal, he’ll follow you home. Nothing good will come of this.’
‘Still not a problem.’
I balk.
‘We’ll confront them or outrun them,’ he continues. ‘Divide up the coal among our traders and lead them astray. We’ll do whatever we have to do, even bring an army. But finding us is only the first step. We’re not letting them in.’
This man is unbelievable. I stare dumbfounded before letting my eyes drift lower.
He must have collected his weapons when he left the compound, because there’s a large knife strapped to his strong thigh.
His bow and quiver are slung across his chest, pulling his shirt snug against the defined planes of his upper body.
My heart flutters with awareness, and I look away, ignoring it.
‘We need this deal,’ he says. ‘And so does the Commander. I just need time to convince him of that and why it’s better to keep us as friends.’
His confidence both confounds and exhausts me.
I can’t help him if he won’t help himself.
I take a step away, and it feels like stepping out of a tent that’s been baking in the sun.
‘I expect you to keep this in confidence,’ I say in parting.
‘You repeat anything I’ve said, and I’ll deny it. Now … I’m tired. I’m going to bed.’
His lips tighten. ‘And what about the water purifying tablets? Are we not testing them?’
‘No,’ I say, walking away. Water pills are the least of my concerns, and he’s distracted me long enough. I need to move on to the people who actually want my help.
‘Is that because you’re starting to trust me?’ he calls. There’s something hopeful and teasing in his voice.
My treacherous mouth cracks a grin. The smallest. I don’t look back as I climb the makeshift ladder to my second-floor bedroom window. ‘Don’t you wish.’