It’s been three days since a wolf took a bite out of me. Three days since Paedyn put her hands on me after I told her to only do so if she wanted to. And I don’t think I’ve been able to catch my breath since. Every time she looks at me, I feel like I’m gasping for air. I hate it.
Liar.
It’s been three long and boring days. The most profitable thing we’ve managed to do is find a shirt for me to wear—another gift left for the contestants. The creek and small circle clearing around it has become our base, though we don’t spend much time there during the day. Our riveting routine consists of splitting up into the forest and scouting for any other opponents. And yet, our efforts to collect more bands have not only been futile but also unbearably boring. I’d rather not split up, simply because I’m far more entertained when Paedyn is with me, but she insisted that we’d cover more ground separately.
A lot of good it’s done us so far.
The sun is sinking rapidly, and stars splatter the sky as it begins to disappear for the night. I trudge back towards the camp, taking out my frustration on the plants littering my path by slicing them with my sword as I walk.
Nothing. Neither of us has come across another opponent yet. The only things we’ve managed to find are snakes and lots of them. Those, along with coyotes, have been the only visitors we’ve had to fight off as of late.
I hear the bubbling creek before I even see it. The small clearing comes into view and so does Paedyn. She sits on a stump, twisting that thick, silver ring on her thumb as she stares blankly at the fire, her hair blowing in the soft breeze.
I grab some kindling and make my way over, throwing it on the fire before sitting down on a stump across from her. “Well, I don’t see any fresh wounds, so no luck, I’m assuming?”
“I’m offended that you think I couldn’t come out of a fight unscathed.” After giving her a skeptical look, she finally grumbles, “No. No luck today.”
I watch her closely, assessing how she bites the inside of her cheek, spins the steel on her thumb, bounces her leg.
She’s a mess of pent-up energy, anxiety eating away at her. But I let her think, giving her time before I pry for answers on what it is that has her so tense. So we sit in silence, me gnawing on stringy rabbit while Paedyn gnaws on the inside of her cheek.
The sun has dipped to the horizon, painting the sky with deep oranges and soft pinks when I finally break the silence with a sigh. “All right, what’s wrong? Out with it.”
“Hmm?” She looks up from the fire, meeting my gaze before deciding that the flames are more interesting to look at. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
I almost laugh. I’ve learned the hard way that those are words you never want to hear a woman say to you, and it’s obvious that she is anything but fine. I stoke the fire as I sigh, “You’re a horrible liar, Gray.”
She finally dares to look in my direction. And then she’s laughing loudly. I hold my breath, watching the way her head tips towards the sky, her silver hair cascades down her back, her eyes crinkle with amusement. She looks back at me too quickly, and I hope I’ve wiped the look of wanting from my face fast enough.
She’s so stunning, yet so stubbornly oblivious to how the sunset behind dulls in comparison to the vibrance that is her.
What the hell is wrong with me.
“I’ll have you know that I am a great liar.” She can barely say the words without snorting like she’s told a joke, and I’ve missed the punchline.
“Hmm.” I pop a piece of meat into my mouth. “I’m going to have to disagree.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Enlighten me, prince.”
Good. Let me distract you.
My lips twitch into a smile. “You have a tell, darling.”
“Do not.” She’s not laughing anymore and I almost regret saying anything at all.
“You tap your left foot when you lie, ever so slightly.” She gapes and I grin. “I started noticing it when you said you hated my dimples. And obviously, we both know that is a lie.”
I duck before the rock she throws at me can connect with my skull. Now I’m the one laughing. She turns her attention back towards the fire, fighting her smile. “I didn’t realize you had watched me so closely.”
“Watched? Darling, I’ve never stopped.” She meets my gaze as an emotion I can’t place ripples in those ocean eyes of hers.
And there she goes again, spinning that silver ring on her thumb.
Interesting.
“Why are you really doing this?” Her words cut through my thoughts, and I look at her, though her own gaze is now fixed on the flames in front of us. “Why didn’t you just take my leather and leave me?”
I hear her unspoken words echoing in my head.
Leave me to die.
She looks at me then, her eyes flooded with emotions. She wants an answer, needs an answer as to why I didn’t act like the monster I’ve been molded into.
I open my mouth, expecting a good answer to fall out. Wishful thinking, I suppose, because I sigh and say, “You know, we never got to finish our dance.”
She blinks at me. “That wasn’t an answer.”
“That’s because we haven’t danced yet. You should know how this works by now, Gray. We dance, you get your answer. Or we don’t and, well, you’ll be left to ponder all your burning questions about me.”
She huffs out a laugh. “You’re kidding. Not this again.”
“Yes, this again.” I stand to my feet and walk over to where she sits on her stump. “So,” I hold out my hand to her with a lazy bow, “are we dancing or not, Gray?”
She rolls her eyes, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at her lips. “Fine.” She lays her palm on my own and the mere contact has my pulse quickening.
What has this girl done to me?
We take a few steps away from the fire, the pale moonlight beaming and the stars twinkling. I guide her hand onto my shoulder and take the other to hold, careful not to strain her stitches. My other hand finds her waist, wrapping my arm around her back to pull her close. She feels so familiar in my arms, and I drink in every detail, memorize every movement.
We begin stepping in time to nothing but the sound of our own heartbeats and the crickets chirping around us. We’re swallowed in darkness, mere shadows in the flickering firelight.
“There’s no music,” she says flatly, her voice laced with amusement.
“Well then I guess we won’t know when to stop dancing. How unfortunate.” My chin brushes the top of her head before I dip her towards the ground, making her gasp in surprise.
“Don’t tempt me to stomp on your toes,” she threatens breathlessly.
I raise her back up slowly as I say, “Oh, we can’t have that. I’m still recovering from the last time we danced.”
We’re quiet for a moment, listening to the crunch of twigs beneath our feet and the crackling of the fire. Through her thin and battered tank, I can feel the heat of her body, feel her skin beneath my hand.