She remembered him on top of her, down in the mine. How solid and heavy he was. She remembered him later, dragging her out of the water. The strength in his arms. The heat of him pouring into her.
What would it feel like to have his body flush against hers?
It was perverse, the way she wanted to find out.
Seeing the thoughts in her eyes, Gideon trembled with restraint. His throat swallowed and his pulse beat hungrily through the hand cupping her jaw.
So, this horrible wanting afflicted him, too.
This is a game, she told herself, nuzzling her face into his palm. It’s only pretend.
It’s how she justified dragging her fingers through his hair and pulling his mouth down to hers.
THIRTY-TWO
GIDEON
IF GIDEON WERE BEING honest, part of him secretly hoped it was Rune who’d escaped him down in that mine. Which should have disturbed him. It would make her his enemy, not to mention a murderous, evil witch. But a girl who could outwit him thrilled Gideon too much to deny.
Her kiss felt the same. Like the first taste of something forbidden. Heady and delicious. Awakening all his senses at once.
When her teeth grazed his bottom lip, a wicked heat surged through him and he reached for her waist. So soft. He wanted to sink into her softness. To bury himself in her.
As if she felt the same, Rune wrapped her arms around his neck and arched against him.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Nothing was supposed to feel this good. This right. As if there was nothing to be ashamed of. As if—just maybe—he could be worthy of a girl like her.
A voice that sounded like Alex hissed from deep inside him: People like Rune don’t end up with people like you.
It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on his head. Sucking in a sharp breath, Gideon wrenched himself away from her, stumbling back.
What the fuck am I doing?
Alex was right, of course.
More importantly: Alex was in love with Rune.
In Gideon’s hasty retreat, Rune lost her balance, went under the waves, and came up spluttering.
His body buzzed at the lack of her. As if Rune in his arms was the only true thing in the world, and until she was there again, everything was wrong.
He shook his head, trying to expel that feeling.
“Gideon … I’m so sorry. I thought—” Her wet hair stuck to her cheeks, her throat, her shoulders. She swallowed hard, wide-eyed and trembling. “I thought you wanted to.”
What?
She shook her head fiercely. “I’m such an idiot.”
Kicking away from him, she swam for shore, her strokes punching through the waves, propelling her away from him. But not before he recognized the humiliation in her voice.
I thought you wanted to.
She’d completely misunderstood.
“Rune!”
Either she didn’t hear him, or she was ignoring him. Because she only swam faster.
Gideon started after her. He needed her to know that he’d very much wanted to.
Still wanted to.
He watched her reach the shore and stumble out of the water as the tide pulled at her legs. Rune’s naked form gleamed in the lantern’s light, which glowed on the sand. Even in his rush to stop her, he couldn’t help but admire her.
Maybe she isn’t a witch. He couldn’t see a single casting scar marring her smooth skin. And damn, did he look.
It made him hesitate. He forced himself to remember Alex. The brother he’d betrayed by kissing Rune tonight. How could he go after the girl Alex loved and kiss her again?
But if she was a witch and Gideon didn’t go after her—if he didn’t make it clear that he definitely wanted to kiss her—Rune would end this charade of a courtship, and he would lose his best chance to catch the Crimson Moth.
Gideon needed to catch the Moth, for all their sakes.
If Rune was that Moth, and Alex was in love with her, he had to do it for Alex most of all. He needed to protect his little brother from yet another dangerous witch.
Rune pulled on her white dress as Gideon reached the beach. Leaving her undergarments, she grabbed the lantern and fled into the woods.
Gideon dragged himself from the sea, shook the water from his hair, and quickly pulled on his trousers. Seizing his shirt, he sprinted after Rune, following the glow of the lantern before he lost her completely.
THIRTY-THREE
RUNE
RUNE SHIVERED IN THE breeze as she half walked, half ran back up the path through the woods, trying to put distance between herself and that beach as quickly as possible. The sun was long gone, and the trees were dark silhouettes around her. Her dress clung to her damp legs and her sopping wet hair dripped down her back.
But despite the chill, she was burning up.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
Witches are cruel by nature. If Gideon believed that, and he suspected Rune of being a witch, he would think her no different from Cressida.
Of course he’d pulled away when she kissed him. The girl she pretended to be—the shallow, gossipy socialite—annoyed Gideon. And the girl she really was … he wanted that girl dead.
Rune repulsed him.
How did I misread him?
She wished she knew a spell to disappear for a week straight.
“Rune!”
Her heart skipped. Gideon’s voice was too close. She glanced over her shoulder, but the darkness cloaked everything beyond the glow of her lantern.
Turning toward the house, she quickened her pace.
Not quick enough.
“Stop running from me.”
This time, his voice was right behind her. Rune was about to bolt when he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop.
“You did nothing wrong.”
She shook her head, a fiery shame flaring through her. “I shouldn’t have presumed …”
He stepped in front of her, cutting her off from the path leading to Wintersea House. She couldn’t help but notice that, in his haste to chase her down, he hadn’t put on his shirt.
“You presumed correctly.”
Then why pull away?
He’s lying to you. You caught him off guard with that kiss, and it cracked his facade. He doesn’t want to kiss you. He never did. He just knows how to play this game better than you.
Rune was about to dart around him, when a sudden sound echoed through the woods.
Voices.
Gideon turned sharply toward it. Rune, still breathless, spotted the owners of the voices first. The flames of half a dozen torches bobbed like fireflies in the distance, coming down the path.
“Someone’s coming,” said Gideon.
“Obviously,” said Rune, turning out her lamp. She grabbed Gideon’s hand and pulled him off the path.
At the sight of the marks carved into their foreheads, he frowned. “Penitents? They’re trespassing on your property.”
“They’re not trespassing.” She kept her voice down, stepping lightly through the underbrush, taking him further away from the path, where the thickening trees shielded them from view. “I allow them to use the footpaths.”
Gideon was invisible beside her, his hand still in hers, as the torches flickered past them.
“You allow them?”
She was glad he couldn’t see the truth on her face. I do more than that. Sometimes, if she knew no one would catch her, Rune left fresh bread and cheese out for them to take.
“They use the paths to get to the beach, where they fish after sundown.” Technically, allowing Penitents to use the paths on her property wasn’t giving them direct aid, and therefore wasn’t illegal. “Are you going to report me?”
“No. It’s just … surprising.”
“There are children among them. As you pointed out earlier, I didn’t choose to be born into my position, just as those children didn’t choose to be born into theirs.”
“I’m not accusing you, Rune. I think it’s … admirable.” His warm hand squeezed hers.
Oh.
A strange silence descended.
Rune had loathed this boy since the day Alex first introduced them, and here she was, holding his hand in the dark. By choice.
The thought made her tug her fingers free.
Because he’d loathed her, too. Still did. Wasn’t that why he’d pushed away from her kiss?
She wanted to understand it. What, exactly, had he seen in her then that made him reject her so adamantly?