Kristen Ciccarelli

he turned her back on Alex and was about to walk away when his strained voice said, “I’m sick of watching you walk into danger.”

She paused, sighing as she stared out into the empty foyer. “Then don’t watch.”

Gideon was the older one. He was supposed to protect his little brother. To take punches, even when those punches came from Alex himself.

Disgusted with himself, standing alone in the middle of the ring, Gideon let his head fall back. Closing his eyes, he let out a rough sigh.

Alex was right.

“I’m a piece of shit.”

Cress was like that: pretty from a distance, tempting you closer … It was only after she’d reeled you in that she revealed her true nature. But by then, it was too late. She was already eating you alive.

For a second, he let himself imagine it. He’d have to attend her parties. Learn how to dance to her songs. Spend less time in Old Town, and more time at Wintersea.

He could do that. Those were small prices to pay for the luxury of going on long walks in the woods with her. Or the privilege of arguing with her. Or the rare gift of seeing that wild girl she kept hidden beneath the surface.

Sparing the life of someone you hate doesn’t make you weak,” she said, perhaps more to herself than to Alex. “It makes you better than the rest of us.”

“The way you make me feel is …” She hugged the bundle of clothes tighter. “I’m afraid it’s something I could get used to. Something I could need.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ll be the end of me, Gideon.” And then, much more quietly: “Maybe you already are.”

“Every night after dinner, we’ll take a long walk through Wintersea, and I’ll pick you a bouquet of wildflowers, and we’ll talk … or be silent. I don’t really care, as long as you’re next to me.”

He could feel her softening.

“Would you attend some of my parties?”

His hands palmed up her bare back. “All of them.”

She pulled away a little, glancing at him. “But you hate parties. I don’t think you’re fond of my friends, either.”

“I can learn to like them.” His arms locked around her waist and dragged her back to him. “I can be civil.”

She raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Can you?

For you, yes.

She bit down on her lip again, thinking. “And you’ll dance with me?”

“That’s a given.”

“What if we fight all the time?”

“I’d rather fight with you than do most other things.”

Her forehead pinched in surprise. “You would?”

“Yes.” He dragged the bridge of his nose across her cheekbone, breathing in her soapy scent. “And after we’re done fighting, I’ll take you to bed, and we’ll reconcile. In fact, I think we should fight every day just so we can make up every night.”

You should have renounced me,” she told him as Laila grabbed her arms and dragged her down from the horse. “You could have saved yourself.”

“You can’t renounce your own heart,” said Alex, stepping toward her, eyes brimming with emotion. He lowered his head, pressing his cheek to her temple.

With his hand in her hair, Alex pulled her mouth down to his, kissing her one last time.

Rune kissed back, that small spark flickering inside her. A spark that would never get the chance to grow into a steady flame.

She kissed him until his chest fell and didn’t rise again beneath her palm. Until his last breath died on her lips.