Raven #2
With Winter beside me, we took to the streets and covered the distance slower than I cared for.
Winter insisted I not push myself too soon.
He walked tightly at my side as if the curves of our bodies were designed to fit together, keeping close under the pretense my strength could fold at any moment.
He dipped his head near, his warm breath brushing my skin as his lips all but caressed the top curve of my ear. “This is nice, isn’t it?”
“What exactly are you referring to?” I kept my attention forward, afraid of what I might discover should our gazes connect.
A hum vibrated in his throat, sounding ten degrees past the friend zone as he tightened his hold. “Our bodies joined in such a comforting manner.”
Was he seriously coming on to me right now—when I was recovering from near-death injuries? That was just…wrong. So why did a warm tickle swirl in my stomach?
I shook my head. I was on a task. A tricky reaping that was in dire need of completion.
Get in, get it done, and get out. No distractions.
And Winter was definitely becoming just that.
I must be wound too tight and in need of a release.
“You know what I think?” I took in his profile. “I think you may be suffering from some sort of savior complex. I was your damsel in distress, and you got off on coming to my rescue.”
He’d now saved me twice. From the injuries incurred by the palace guards’ overzealous need to fire their weapons at me, and earlier from the specters the night of my team’s arrival.
His brows rose, and he huffed a laugh that left me confident in my assessment. Yet I didn’t force an increase in distance between us because I secretly thrived on the closeness and attention.
And maybe, just maybe, I found a little bit of comfort in the physical support.
His lips twitched as his eyes lit with mischief. “And if I do suffer a savior complex? Would that be such a bad thing?”
I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the path ahead, then I pulled my cloak’s hood up to cover my hair. I was no one’s damsel. And I would be my own savior.
An image of Chace flickered into my mind—his wet-rimmed, stormy eyes, and his mouth curving downward toward the moving ink decorating his chest and shoulder. The left edge of his jaw and neck. His lips…
Nope. Stop that.
Why was I thinking about Chace now?
Because I’d started thinking of keeping on task—the reaping—and he was my coreaper. Undoubtedly, that was the reason for my momentary mental leap. No other reason existed for why Winter’s flirtations conjured thoughts of Chace.
Chace was a work associate, and Winter… He could be nothing more than a temporary acquaintance.
“Nothing is going to happen between us,” I said.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Remains to be seen,” he said with a slight shrug.
Suppressing a sigh, I tried not to think about the last time I’d gotten frisky with a guy, much less intimate. Clearly too long ago. Was loneliness creeping in? Some fact about my internal needs I didn’t want to acknowledge?
I was perfectly content with my current relationship status…or lack thereof. I would not succumb to Winter’s flirtations, and I would stop thinking about Chace’s eyes, his lips…his irritating manner.
I would repeat that message to myself as many times as necessary. Until I believed the words and sentiment wholeheartedly.
When we reached the pub, Aoes stood behind the bar, and several patrons took up space at tables throughout the room. My footsteps floundered. I’d never seen the pub so busy.
Realization bloomed, and a whispered curse slipped free.
The afflicted woman I had somehow healed and the man who had stayed at her side… They hadn’t held their tongues as requested. Were the people in the pub awaiting a miracle?
I regained my composure and moved deeper into the establishment.
At our entrance, Aoes spared Winter a quick wave but didn’t appear to take notice of me.
I supposed, with the hood of my cloak covering my hair and showing up in Camilla’s attire, I sort of moved through the citadel in costume. Incognito.
I strode directly toward the stairs, but before I could start the climb, Winter grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. I glared at him. When had he become so invested in my state of wellbeing?
“I’ll be back down in a few,” I said. “I just want to freshen up properly and change into something that feels more like me.”
He scanned the stairs and the room at our backs as if searching for threats. “I’ll go with you. Make sure you can handle the stairs.”
Does he know something he isn’t sharing?
“I’ll be fine.” I placed my hand over his grip and peeled it free. “I’ll only be a few minutes at most. If I’m not back in a reasonable amount of time, I give you permission to come looking for me.”
Winter’s expression suggested he didn’t support my choice but held his place as I walked away. Halfway up the stairs, I glanced back. Tired as I felt, I had successfully climbed the majority of the way to the second floor without incident.
“See, I’m fine.”
Winter hummed, the sound noncommittal.
“Go talk to Aoes,” I said.
“All right. You win.” He huffed and turned to make his way to the bar.
I climbed the remainder of the stairs and reached my room.
I took care of a few personal needs, changed, then stopped at Aldine’s room.
My knocks went unanswered. I tried the handle, but the door was locked, and no light bled through the surrounding crevices.
Hopefully, the lack of an answer meant Aldine was truly healed, and the silence didn’t signal something far more troublesome.
I turned away and—
The Killian stood in my path.
I jumped back with a yelp.
He vanished, leaving the hallway clear.
Had I imagined him? Had I ever really seen him?
I rubbed my face. The Killian had not followed me to the pub. I told myself this several times and then checked the rest of the upper level for my teammates.
I couldn’t find either one. Chace’s room sat as dark and locked as Aldine’s. The two were likely out working some part of the citadel. Or, if Winter had truly kept my situation a secret, they could be searching for me.
I turned from Chace’s room and froze. A presence, clear and cold, lingered at my back. A slight glance and I swore I saw the Killian again. Only when I spun around, the hallway remained empty.
Maybe I needed more sleep.
Except that was all I’d been doing lately—sleeping. Plus, I still needed to mine Winter for more information.
Looking more like myself, if not truly feeling it, I headed for the stairwell.
“Remember our agreement.”
At the intruding voice near my ear, I froze mid-step. I hadn’t forgotten my arrangement with the Killian, assuming the exchange had really happened and wasn’t part of a fever dream.
“Get to work on becoming your something more. And when I summon you, you come.”
With a shiver racing over me, I peered over my shoulder once more to verify—again—that I was alone in the passage. I knew little to nothing about the Killian, and I could have sworn I felt his breath against my skin. For all I knew, he owned the power of invisibility.
Without a further millisecond of hesitation, I dashed down the stairs to the comfort and safety of a room filled with people. Or partially filled, anyway. I silently prayed the Killian wouldn’t approach me while others mingled nearby.
Winter leaned beside the bar where he waited, while Aoes attended to customers and filled the air with vociferous conversation. He looked up, spotted me, and his gaze blew wide. Abandoning his duties, he leaped over the bar and closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
“Where have you been?” He pulled me into a tight squeeze. “Everyone has been terribly worried about you.”
“If you release me so I can breathe, I might tell you.” I partially joked, but I wheezed nonetheless.
I didn’t care for the air being crushed out of my lungs, plus my body was still tender.
“Sorry.” He quickly dropped his hold, then he led me to a table where Winter joined us, and we could talk more privately than at the bar. “Out with it. Where have you been?”
I should’ve already worked out an excuse, but of the few that had come to mind during the walk to the pub, none had felt credible enough. I needed more time to decide what, or how much, to tell them all.