Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SANORA
“He wants one.” I smiled at the merchant, pulling her attention back to me after she’d been staring with jaw slack and eyes stuck at Thrax like she’d just seen a god walk straight into her. He’d stopped beside me soundlessly, gaze angled down at the bracelet on my wrist, his face unreadable.
“Uh?…Oh, yeah. Sure. He wants one,” she stammered, fumbling with the beads as if her fingers had forgotten what to do. “Sorry. Uhm, matching? What colour?”
I glanced at Thrax. He looked completely indifferent. Until he looked back at me, displeasure etched into every line of his face. Without breaking eye contact with him, I nodded at the woman. “Make his black.”
“No,” he disagreed instantly, a frown pulling his brows low. “There’s no way I’m keeping that.”
The merchant leaned forward, her voice syrup-sweet. “There’s no harm in trying on a couple bracelets. Anything would look good on you.” She didn’t bother to hide how her eyes swept over his body.
My smile turned polite in the most brittle sense of the word. I shifted slightly, placing myself between them. “He wants black, ma’am.”
“Oh—yes, of course.” She giggled lightly and began threading the beads.
I watched her loop three before I turned back to Thrax, only to find him closer than I’d expected. The tips of his boots were barely a breath from mine, my stomach tightening. I made myself meet his gaze, the steady weight of his focus making me feel uncomfortably warm.
“Where are your gloves?” I asked, knowing he never went without them outside the house.
He only shrugged.
My gaze dropped to his hands again, and my breath caught. I grabbed his left one before he could pull it away, turning it over. A thin red line stretched across his palm, healed but obvious. If his palm was injured weeks ago, I’d have seen it. But not catching it until it had completely healed?
Right. The claw marks.
Without thinking, I rose onto my toes, pushing back his hair to check his neck. My fingers grazed warm skin, sending an electric spark down my own spine. The bruises I’d seen earlier were gone. Completely gone. In less than a day.
“We’re touching each other randomly now, yeah?” he murmured.
I met his eyes, whispering back, “That’s rich coming from someone who cornered me in a library with a dagger to my nipple.”
“Hmm.” His lips tipped into a smug, knowing curve, no doubt recalling the moment in vivid detail.
I ignored the heat in my own memory and focused on the puzzle. “Where are the claw marks?”
“Gone.”
“But how?”
He shrugged. “Perks of not having a shadow, I guess.”
What?
I opened my mouth to push further, but the merchant’s voice called me back. I turned blindly, my elbow clipping a box of beads in the process, sending it teetering off the cart. My heart jumped.
Instinctively, my hand shot after it.
But the box stopped some inches from spilling on the ground.
It hung there for the briefest second, like time had stopped moving for it. Then reality snapped again, and it continued its descent. I caught it before the beads could scatter, my pulse hammering in my ears from what I was sure I’d just seen.
What the hell was that?
I handed it back to the woman, who accepted it with a grateful nod, completely unaware of what had just happened.
I turned to look at Thrax, but he was staring at the jewellery displayed on the woman’s cart. That box had stopped and continued, as though whatever happened to it had been a slip of control.
Did magic still openly exist? Did anyone around here possess one?
“Your partner’s bracelet is done,” the woman said, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“He’s not—” I started.
“Thank you,” Thrax interrupted, collecting the bracelet and handing it straight to me before walking off in the direction I’d come from.
I looked down at the black beads that were identical to mine, digging into my pocket. I pulled out the money, but when I held it out, the merchant shook her head, tilting it towards Thrax’s walking figure as she held up a note.
“He’s already paid.”
“What? When?”
“When he collected the bracelet. He exchanged the money with it.”
“Oh,” I muttered, giving her a short nod, my brain still caught in the time glitch moment, before jogging after him. “Since you paid, you must have it.”
He glanced at the bracelet in my palm, then back at me, unimpressed. And without a word, he kept walking.
I shoved it into his coat pocket as I passed. “Throw it away then,” I said, moving ahead, fully aware there was an actual real possibility he might lob it at my head.
He didn’t. Instead, he stayed a few paces behind, his stare burning between my shoulder blades. I slowed until he caught up, only for him to keep his pace, refusing to close the gap.
“What were you doing there?” he asked suddenly.
“Going for a walk. What were you doing there? Staring at me like a creep?”
He didn’t answer, so I turned and stopped in front of him. “How long have you been in Nimorran?”
He feigned boredom. “Two months.”
“What are you here for?”
“Personal matters.”
“Where do you live?”
Thrax cocked his head, eyes scrutinising me. “What is this? You’re not allowed to ask questions outside our deal.” He stepped around me, keeping his stride.
I sighed, falling into step beside him. “Then you can ask me questions too. I’m sure you’re curious about—”
“I’m not.”
“What’s my favourite colour, then?” I blurted out.
He flicked his gaze to my hair, answering wordlessly.
Green.
“Okay. My favourite thing to do?”
“Daring death with no sense of danger.”
Oh—
“What’s my future ambition?”
“Staying alive.”
Wrong.
“What’s yours?” I asked.
“To die,” he said flatly.
I waited for the punchline of the joke, but nothing came. The cold chill in his tone made it clear he wasn’t being dramatic either.
“Where would you like to die?” I continued.
“I’m in no position to be picky.” His eyes slid to me. “I’ll gladly accept it anywhere.”
“You’re boring,” I scoffed and kicked at nothing with my shoe. A short snort of laughter escaped him, and warmth bloomed in my chest. It was enough to soften the tension and seriousness in his tone. “Tell me everywhere you’ve lived, and I’ll recommend the best place to go back to and die.”
He shook his head but humoured me, listing five places. My steps slowed until I was staring at him, mouth open.
“What the hell?” I cut in front of him, walking backwards to face him since he would not stop walking.
“Those are the exact places my mum and I have lived. I just got chills. We might have run into each other without knowing. What are the odds? It’s a coincidence that we ended up here together again, don’t you think? ”
“A big coincidence.” He nodded his head, agreeing in a slightly sarcastic tone before catching my hand and pulling me back to his side. “Now walk properly.”
So I did.
And that walk—strangely—might have been the longest conversation we’d ever had.
Only that it was me mostly doing the talking.
But he was there, and he was listening.
And that was all I needed.