I’m braiding my hair when he walks out of the bathroom.

Walks out of the bathroom, shirtless.

A strand of hair slips from between my fingers. I scramble to my feet, looking anywhere but at the tanned chest and damp pants hanging low on his hips. Beads of water are dripping from his hair to roll down his shoulders, trailing toward the body beneath. Not that I noticed.

“Do you ever have a shirt on?” I say casually, eyes on the braid I’m fumbling with.

“I washed it, so it needs to dry.” Gray eyes flick up to mine. “If I’m distracting you, by all means, let me know.”

I scoff as though that isn’t exactly what he’s doing. As I head across the room, he’s forced to follow until I plop down onto the thin mattress. He towers over me, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the window, aggressively tousling his wet hair with a towel.

“You’re dripping water on my bed,” I say, scooting farther across the mattress.

He looks up at me from under the towel. “I’m sorry, your bed?”

“Yes, my bed.”

“No, I heard you,” he says simply. “I’m just trying to understand why you’re saying that.”

“Because I’m not sleeping with you.” He gives me a look, to which I quickly rephrase, “I’m not sleeping in this bed with you.”

He’s making no effort to hide how humorous he finds this. “And why is that? It’s not as though we haven’t shared a bed before.”

“So you keep reminding me.” I turn my attention back to the neglected braid. “Yes, before.”

Before every bit of betrayal that was brought between us.

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice.” He nods to the chain hanging limply between us.

“You could hang your head off the other side of the bed,” I say sweetly.

“Why don’t you, seeing that you’re the one who’s so desperate to get away from me?” He takes a step closer to the bed, his knees brushing the quilt. “I have no problem sleeping beside you.”

I shake my head in annoyance, shifting to the other side of the bed that is suddenly too narrow for my liking. The mattress sinks when he sits beside me. Ignoring him, I take my time untucking the thin quilt and slipping beneath it to burrow in the covers.

It’s freezing, the frigid air tempting my teeth to chatter. I’m not sure when it suddenly got so cold, but the damp hair sticking to my neck certainly isn’t helping. I pull the quilt over my chin before shoving my icy hands beneath each thigh.

“You’re shaking the bed,” he says quietly.

“And you’re more than welcome to roll off if it’s bothering you so much.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “You’ve been shivering since your bath.”

“You say that as though you care for my well-being.” The chain clanks loudly when I shift onto my side and peer into the darkness.

“No, but I care for my well-being. And I’d rather not be kept up all night by you shivering.”

“Spoken like a true gentleman,” I scoff.

We fall silent, nothing but the faint chattering of my teeth to fill the space. He stills beside me, so much so that I assume he’s fallen asleep. That is, until the mattress sinks behind my back, and I practically roll into him.

“What the hell are you—”

His chest meets my back.

I try again. “What the hell—”

“Shh.”

My mouth falls open. “I’m waiting for a better explanation than that.”

“Easy, Gray.” A hand brushes my hip, making me jump against him. “I can’t sleep with you shaking the bed, and you can’t sleep when you’re freezing. This is best for the both of us.”

“Is it really?” I start. “Because I—”

“Plagues,” he chuckles against my ear. “Just pretend. Pretend not to hate each other in these moments, remember?” I open my mouth to object, but the arm he circles around my waist has me snapping it shut. “All this means is that we’re useful to one another.”

I stiffen slightly against him.

Useful to one another.

The sentence stings more than it should. I hate myself for hating how it sounds rolling off his tongue. Because useful is the extent of our relationship. The most we will ever mean to each other.

“Fine,” I say, annoyed at the sound of my voice quivering. “Pretend.”

With that, I allow myself to melt into his warmth when he pulls me closer.

I’m tangled in his arms and wrapped in the chain tethering us together.

I blink in the hazy sunlight streaming through the window, feeling the warmth of it coat my face. His arm is warm against my cheek, fingers peeking from beneath my unraveling hair. I can feel his deep breaths stirring my hair, warming my neck.

He’s comfortable. He’s content.

He’s pretending.

The thought has me untangling myself from him, starting with the arm slung snuggly around my waist. Grabbing his wrist, I toss it behind me, not bothering to be gentle. Then I’m sitting up, pulling strands of my hair from his fingers.

He stirs before quickly sitting up on his elbows. The quilt slips down his bare chest as he watches me with sleepy eyes, tracking each hand as I gather my hair over a shoulder.

“You missed a piece.”

I glance up at the sound of his gruff voice. “Good morning to you, too.” I run a hand over my neck, finding the forgotten strand falling down my back. He watches me while I pretend not to feel his gaze traveling over my face.

“What now?” I ask distractedly. “Time to drag me back out to the desert?”

The thought of returning to Ilya bleeds into an equally bleak one, and my heart aches at the sudden reminder of my selfishness. I’ve been so caught up in the Enforcer who holds my fate in his hands that I have yet to spare a thought for my friends; the Mixes living in squalor. I worry for Lenny, Leena, Finn, and every other soul who was kind enough to help me. Believe me.

Please be safe. Please.

If I knew who or what to pray to, I would have.

“Not quite.” The bed shifts as he stands to his feet, forcing me up as well. He walks over to the washroom, stepping inside to grab his damp shirt from the tub. I’m not sure why I look away when he pulls it over his head, but the action feels far too intimate.

“We are going to cut through Dor,” he says, stepping back into the washroom. “And then cross the Sanctuary of Souls.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “The Sanctuary of Souls? The rocky terrain infested with bandits?” I scoff. “I think I’d prefer the Scorches.”

His voice is slightly muffled by the cracked door. “Father sent me out there plenty of times. We’ll be fine.”

I swallow at the reminder of his torturous training. “Well, were you chained up last time you visited?”

He’s silent for several seconds. “I was always… challenged when I was out there.” More silence. “So, like I said, we’ll be fine.”

When he steps out of the washroom, he’s carrying a bundle of clothing in his arms, intending to dump it on the floor for the innkeeper to find. A flash of familiar olive green catches my eye, and I snatch the vest from his grasp. “Not this,” I snap. His brows lift at my tone—a silent question. “Adena made it for me,” I say quietly, clearing my throat self-consciously. “I—I made a promise to her.”

He nods slowly, seemingly hesitant. “The final Trial. I… I saw it happen. Saw you hold her.” A muscle ticks in his cheek. “Heard you scream.”

I look away, feeling the emotion begin to pool in my eyes. “She made me promise to wear it for her.” I run a hand over the rough hem. “And I plan on doing just that.”

Clearing my throat, I shrug the vest over my shoulders. I hate the way he’s watching me, like he’s ready to collect the pieces when I inevitably break. He sighs through his nose, opening his mouth to say…

A loud bang at the door cuts him off.

“Aye! Who’s in there?”

The man pounds at the locked door, rattling the rusty hinges. Kai nods to the window, his eyes still fixed on the door. I step lightly toward our escape while wrapping the scarf around my head, shoving the silver strands of hair into it. When we reach the window, I’m slipping on my boots and quickly throwing a leg over the sill before the rest of my body follows. Kai is right behind me, jumping from the sill as I hear the door burst open.

“Oi! Get back here, you bastards!”

We scramble from the scene on sleepy limbs. I’m tripping, trying to wrap the skirt around me while Kai flings our dirty clothes behind us. A laugh climbs up my throat before spilling from my mouth. The prince glances over at me, and I catch his smile before he pulls the bandanna over his face. I hear him chuckle as we duck into an alley, dodging rolling carts and swearing merchants.

“Stop them!”

I whip my head around, spotting what can only be the innkeeper. His face is red and splotchy with rage as he charges after us, pointing a thick finger in our direction. “Stop those two!”

The sight of him only makes me laugh harder, while the sound of that only makes Kai’s smile widen beneath the bandanna. I squint in the rays of the rising sun, narrowly avoiding those milling about the merchant street.

“This way,” Kai calls over his shoulder, grabbing my hand to yank me down an alley. He snatches a large hat from a passing cart—a sloppy attempt at thievery. The merchant shouts after us as we cut through several more streets, the chain scraping the cobblestone beneath us while I attempt to smother my laughter. I can’t help but find this all very amusing, and I’m slightly concerned as to why.

“We need to lose him,” Kai murmurs after another shout echoes around the corner. I’m about to say something when he suddenly pulls me down another alleyway and pushes me against the crumbling wall.

“What are you—”

“Pretend, Gray,” he breathes, trapping me against the wall with his body. Before I get the chance to question him, he’s untied my skirt with one hand and thrown it to the ground. I blink at the crumpled fabric at our feet before his hand is guiding my face back to his.

I see the order in his eyes, the need for me to listen to him, just this once.

So, I don’t push him away when his hand trails down my neck to lift the scarf from my head.

Because this is pretend. This is a plan.

He pulls the floppy hat onto my head, tucking my messy braid within it. Then he’s leaning closer, pulling the bandanna from his face. His free hand is tight on my hip, pushing my back against the wall. I take a quick breath when his head ducks beneath my jaw.

The brush of his lips has me swallowing.

His mouth moves lightly, trailing kisses across my skin. My breath catches when a hand cups my face to bend it down toward him and away from the street. He moves slowly down my neck, his lips growing less hesitant as they follow the path of my jagged scar.

“Kai…” My voice sounds breathy, though that wasn’t at all what I intended.

“Pretend,” he breathes against my skin, making me shiver.

At the sound of approaching shouts and pounding footsteps, he pulls my head and the hat atop it down farther. His body is pressed against mine, face buried in my neck and hidden beneath the brim of this hideous hat I’m wearing.

The group of men now on the hunt for us pass by without a step in our direction. We are nothing but a lovesick couple, after all. Just two lovers looking to be left alone.

Lovers.

The thought of others perceiving us as such has me swallowing.

He’s made it to the end of my scar, kissing the hollow of my collarbone. Any farther down and his lips would find another scar etched over my heart, branding me till death. The thought has me pushing him away from me and stepping from his hold.

He takes a step back, breathing heavily. Gray eyes crash into mine, swimming with an emotion I don’t bother trying to decipher. After a long moment, he blinks, giving me a curt nod of approval. I feel my cheeks burning and pull the hat lower to shield myself from his piercing gaze.

He watches as I dust the skirt off before wrapping it around my waist, giving time for my face to cool. Then he clears his throat before looping the chain several times around my ankle, closing the gap between us.

“Ready?” he asks casually, as though I’d imagined the last five minutes.

Fine. If he thinks nothing of it, neither do I.

So I adjust my hat, nod curtly, and hook my arm through his.