Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
We tumble into darkness, stone scraping my arms, my back—Kier’s arms wrapping tight around me as we crash into something cold and hard.
Cold explodes over us—icy, rushing water that punches the air from my lungs. I gasp, hands flailing, water roaring past my ears.
Kier is already there, pulling me up, gripping my arms. “Are you hurt?”
I choke on a laugh, half hysterical. “We’re alive.”
We’re alive.
Above us, the cracked wall glows—orange, flickering, alive with fire. The heat must’ve split the stone, dropped us into an underground water system.
I glance at him—soaked, bleeding, his wild dark hair clinging to his face, his golden eyes burning in the dim light.
“Fuck,” Kier mutters, looking around. “We’re actually alive.”
My chest tightens, emotion catching hard in my throat.
I shouldn’t. This isn’t the time. We’re injured. We’re hunted. I should be focused on survival, on escape, on anything but the sharp pull in my chest when I look at him.
But gods help me, I can’t stop.
I step into him, sliding my hands into his hair to pull his mouth to mine.
The kiss hits like a punch—hot, raw, desperate. There’s no room for careful, no room for gentle. His hands are in my hair, mine drop to clutch at his shoulders, and we’re both shaking, soaked, delirious.
His mouth claims mine, and I let him, opening under the press of his tongue, dragging him closer. I need him under my skin, I need the heat of his body. He’s the only thing keeping me anchored right now, the only thing stopping me from losing all control.
His teeth scrape my bottom lip, and I gasp, holding him tighter, tilting my head, needing more.
Every inch of him is solid muscle and heat and tension wound tight, trembling against me as his hands slide down to my waist, hauling me flush. I can feel every sharp edge, every scar, every line carved by captivity and survival.
I shouldn’t want this.
But I do. Gods, I do.
I pour it all into our kiss—fear, exhaustion, fury, relief. All the things I can’t say, all the things I don’t have time to unpack. Right now, it’s just mouths and hands and heat in the dark.
When we finally break apart, I’m gasping, dizzy, my pulse a wild drumbeat in my throat.
Kier leans his forehead to mine, breathless, smiling. “You’re something else, Shadowmist.”
I laugh, shaky and real, and brush his hair back from his face. “Come on,” I whisper, threading my fingers through his. “Before something else tries to kill us.”
Kier flicks on the flashlight and we begin to wade through the thigh-deep icy stream, following the current which tugs at our clothes as we stumble through.
“Underground streams usually lead to some kind of exit,” Kier says, his voice echoing against the wet cave walls. “Hopefully it’ll be somewhere without people trying to burn us alive.”
“Your optimism is inspiring,” I mutter, but I keep my fingers laced through his as we trudge forward.
The tunnel narrows, forcing us to duck our heads. Water sloshes around our thighs, numbing my skin. At least the cold helps with the burns and cuts we’ve collected during our escape. My ribs are aching from the fall, but our days of rest seem to have done their work.
“So,” Kier says after we’ve been walking for several minutes. “We gonna talk about that kiss?”
“Technically there were two,” I mutter.
“True. We gonna talk about those kisses?”
I nearly stumble on a submerged rock. “You want to discuss our romantic prospects while we’re half-drowned in a cave?”
“I’m a multitasker.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, I figure it’ll be a more interesting conversation than, ‘what did you get up to today, love?’”
I snort. “Is that what you call it? An ‘interesting conversation’?”
“Well, your tongue was doing most of the talking, so you tell me.”
Despite everything, I laugh. “You’re terrible.”
“And yet, you kissed me.” His fingers tighten around mine. “Care to explain that, Beta?”
I consider deflecting again, but what’s the point? We’ve nearly died multiple times. Pride seems like a luxury I can no longer afford.
“I thought we were about to die,” I say finally. “And if I was going to burn alive, I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you first.”
“That matches my thoughts.” He stops to help me over a particularly tight crevice. “And now that we’re not dying?”
I drop into the water on the other side, gasping at the cold. “Now I’m wondering if you’ve always been this annoying or if it’s a new development.”
He chuckles. “You gonna talk about those walls you’ve built? Or should I just pretend I don’t notice them?”
“You gonna talk about your imaginary friends?” I counter.
“Touché.” He goes quiet for a moment. “They weren’t friends, for the record. More like… ghosts. Reminders of all the ways I’d failed.”
I wince. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” He squeezes my hand. “Adelaide was the worst. I’d see her standing there constantly. I’m not sure if it’s because she was the youngest, or because she was the reason.”
We splash through a deeper section, the water rising to our waists.
“Why did you think I was another hallucination?” I ask, remembering our first conversations through the wall.
“Can you blame me? A beautiful voice appearing in the darkness after years of isolation? It seemed too good to be true.”
“Beautiful, huh?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
I smile. “What would you have done if I had been just another voice in your head?”
“Enjoyed the company, I suppose. Your particular brand of sarcasm is a definite improvement over the guilt trips my other hallucinations specialize in.”
“Glad to hear I rank higher than your guilt-induced delusions.”
“Top tier hallucination, that’s you.”
We round a bend, and the tunnel widens slightly. The water level drops to our knees, making walking easier.
“Your turn,” Kier says.
“For what?”
“To share. Fair exchange and all that. I told you about mine, now you tell me yours.”
“What do you want to know?”
“You’re the Beta of Shadowmist. Strong, fierce, gorgeous. How is it you’re single?”
I nearly stumble. “Who says I’m single?”
“You did, back in the prison. Are you now telling me there’s some poor bastard waiting for you back home?” His tone is teasing, but I notice the faint clench of his jaw in the glow of the flashlight.
Damn, I did too.
“No,” I admit. “There’s no one.”
“That’s what I thought. So what’s the story there? No eligible wolves in Shadowmist?”
I roll my eyes, though he can’t see it in the dark. “Plenty of eligible wolves. Just none I’m interested in.”
“None?” His voice lifts, playful, but when I glance at him, I see his brow pinched. “Not one worthy suitor caught your eye?”
“I don’t do relationships,” I say flatly.
“Ever? Or just currently?”
“Ever.”
“Any particular reason? Or just not a fan of companionship, cuddling, mind-blowing sex, breakfast in bed—”
“I have my reasons.”
“Care to share with the class?”
I sigh. “No.”
He’s quiet for a while as we walk. “It was your parents right? Their death made it easier not to love at all.”
I bristle at his question. “It’s not about easy.”
“Isn’t it?” He stops walking, turning to face me in the semi-darkness. “You sure this isn’t fear talking?”
“Excuse me for not wanting to watch everyone I care about die,” I snap.
“So instead you’re choosing to die alone? Brilliant strategy.”
“Better than your approach. What exactly is your long-term plan, Nomad? Wander forever? Never belong anywhere?”
“At least I’m doing something with my life rather than staying in pack purgatory no doubt making everyone around me miserable.”
We’re both breathing hard now, anger crackling between us like static.
“You don’t know the first thing about what I feel,” I hiss.
“I know you kissed me like your life depended on it. I know your wolf recognizes mine. I know you’re terrified of what that means.”
“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”
“I think we’re both fucked up in ways that fit together surprisingly well.”
The statement is so unexpected, so perfectly ridiculous, that the anger drains out of me. A reluctant laugh bubbles up. “That’s your romantic pitch? ‘Our damage is compatible’?”
His teeth flash white in the darkness. “Is it working?”
“It’s… not the worst I’ve heard.”
He steps closer, his hand finding my waist. “I’ve spent twenty years alone, Lithia. By choice, mostly. I know what it means to keep people at a distance and convince yourself it’s safer that way.”
“Now you’ve seen the error of your ways?” I try to keep my tone light, but my voice wavers.
“Now I’ve met someone who makes me wonder if being alone is really a better choice.”
I don’t know what to say or how to respond to this man.
“I’m Beta of Shadowmist,” I say finally. “My duty is to my pack.”
“I’m not asking you to choose.”
“Then what are you asking?”
He’s quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on my hip. “Just don’t shut me out. Not yet. Not without giving this—whatever this is—some thought.”
We follow the river for a while longer, quiet but for the occasional discussion about directions or hazards.
I mull over his words.
Don’t shut me out.
Gods, I want to. He’s already under my skin. But I’ve spent years building walls so high no one could climb them, walls even I couldn’t see over. I buried my grief beneath duty, buried my hunger for touch beneath discipline, buried every soft, reckless part of myself beneath cold steel.
When we get back to Shadowmist and the dust settles, I’ll shore up the walls, patch the cracks, and forget this momentary weakness.
But the truth is, I’m not sure I want to.
The tunnel curves sharply, and something changes in the air—a freshness, a hint of open space ahead.
“I think we’re almost out,” Kier says, pointing the flashlight in that direction.
“Let’s hope it’s somewhere without helicopters and psychopaths.”
He reaches for me, helping me over a boulder. “Your standards are low. I like that about you.”
I elbow him in the ribs as I drop down. “Keep it up and I’ll leave you down here with your imaginary friends.”
“They’d just tell me how I screwed up with you too.”
“Smart hallucinations.”
He laughs, and I grin, glad the tension between us is broken.
For now.