He studies me, his face too shadowed by the growing twilight for me to read the emotion there. “You’re far braver than any wee slip of a girl has any right to be, you know.”
“I don’t feel brave.” I feel nervous and scared and hopeful, all together in one overwhelming moment. “You’re shaking,” I say as he brushes my hair back from my eyes.
“Maybe,” he whispers, his mouth against my forehead. “But it’s been ages since I’ve felt as human as you make me feel. I’ve tried not to want you, but I can’t bring myself to stay away.”
“Then don’t,” I whisper.
His hands cup my cheeks, the hard steel on one side, the human warmth on the other. Both tremble as he leans forward until our faces are only a breath apart, and then he settles his lips against mine. They are warm and soft and taste of the spice of cloves and the saltiness of his sweat and of Rowan, and in a moment I’m lost.
He deepens the kiss, his lips pressing against mine in a soft slide of warmth, teasing me with the promise of something I feel like I will never reach. He shifts, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer into the heat of his body, and I cannot help but respond.
The unnerving softness of his skin, the lean muscle of his arms under my touch. I let my fingers ruffle the short dark hair at the nape of his neck as I kiss him back, pressing myself into him, as though this moment is the only moment. Because I know it is. I kiss him as though I could kiss away our fates. As though I could kiss away all the fear that riots inside me.
Before I’m even close to satisfied, he eases away, leaving me breathless and wanting. “We shouldn’t tarry,” he says, his voice as strained and unsteady as I feel.
We don’t move away from each other, though. His body is still pressed against mine. He still cups my face gently with his hands, and my arms are still wrapped around his waist. Neither of us speaks as he pulls me closer against him again, and I let him, taking in all I can about this moment.
The future is impossible—I know that. So I settle for what I have—I memorize the steady beat of his heart and concentrate on the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest until the time comes that we can delay no longer.
In that world, the boy learned that boredom could be deadly. No one warned him, but he discovered it just the same. For hours the lads would sit or stand, arms in hand, blades ready in wait. And as they waited, every rustling sound, every shifting of the earth was the enemy. As they waited, their fear grew teeth. . . .
Chapter 35
ARE YOU READY, THEN?” ROWAN steps away from me reluctantly.
The sun has already dipped behind the hills, leaving the air cooler, and without his body against mine, I feel more chilled than ever. “As I’ll ever be.”
He eyes me, expectant, but he doesn’t rush me.
I settle myself on the ground near the clear pool. In the water, jewel-colored fish swim beneath the surface, and then my focus shifts and I catch a glimpse of my reflection. I look like a stranger. My face is smudged and my short hair is a wild tangle, but my eyes are steady and strong. The girl staring back at me isn’t the Gwen from before. Even if she doesn’t understand everything she’s been through, the girl staring back at me is someone new. Someone I want a chance to know.
When I’m ready, I press my hands to the ground beneath me, feeling the sharp points of the rocky soil. I press with all my weight and all my focus, until my palms ache with the effort. Until the gash in my arm screams in protest. I focus on the way the land beneath me moves, pulsing in its steady, ever-present beat.
Show me. I direct every ounce of energy I have left into the ground, into the island beneath me. Show me your Queen so I can free her. Show me so you can be free, I tell Neverland, but the land beneath my palms pulses steadily, unaware—or maybe just indifferent.
Undeterred, I claw my fingers into the ground until the silty soil of Neverland scrapes beneath my ragged fingernails. My temper spikes hot and acidic in my veins, burning through me with all the anger from all the years I’ve spent feeling powerless and impotent. All those years being dragged from place to place with my mother, who kept this from me, who never gave me a say. All those towns and all those schools where I never fit. I am supposed to fit here.
“Show me,” I demand, heat beginning to pulse through my arms. “Give me my Queen,” I whisper.
The heat in my hands grows, spreads, as I feel the island shudder beneath me, and as something deep inside me answers. The ground shakes in response. Beneath my palms, the soft green ground cover begins to transform, each tiny blade of grass going stiff and still, rippling as it hardens into glasslike shards. The transformation spreads like a wave, climbing over the ground, right up to the edge of the water.
The ground quakes violently, and Rowan pulls me up and into the protection of his arms. “What have you done, lass?”