We were on our way once again after Caelum caught a quick breakfast of wild hare. He’d managed to trap it while I was still

sleeping. He’d never woke me in the night to take watch, and I didn’t know if it was because he had fallen asleep, as well, or because he’d been afraid I might in fact take his balls off while he slumbered.

I’d slept straight through the night, waking long after he had, at any rate, and we’d continued our trek toward the Hollow Mountains, much to my dismay.

The dress Caelum had snagged off the clothesline was a size too small, the fabric clinging to me more tightly than felt tolerable, but the alternative had been to continue to wear my thinner, damp, and muddy dress that had more holes than I cared to count.

Caelum had continued to be largely silent most of the day, letting me stew in my grief as we traveled. Being with him stung with betrayal when Brann had wanted me to stay away and go our own way, but I wasn’t capable of making the long trip to the safety the Mountains at Rochpar might offer on my own.

I didn’t know the way. Didn’t know how to navigate the same way Caelum seemed to, only pulling an engraved compass from his trouser pocket every now and then.

My legs throbbed with endless movement, the walking and uneven terrain something that I was far from used to. My midnight strolls to the Veil could never compare to the steady and relentless pace Caelum set.

We came to another dip in the valley, a drop of uneven terrain that would have hurt, had we dared to continue our path in the darkness last night. Caelum jumped down, landing smoothly on steady feet as he bent his knees to absorb the impact.

He stood, turning back to face me as I approached the ledge and prepared to follow suit, hiking my dress up my calves. He gripped me around the waist, lifting me off my feet and pulling me into the front of his body, lowering me down as he’d done countless times. I stared up at him and resisted the urge to argue. There was something in Caelum that needed to care for someone, a gentleman who couldn’t let me prove to be capable of taking care of myself.

I’d been fending for myself for so long, part of me liked being taken care of for once, even if I would never admit it. I’d jumped off the edge of a cliff and managed to get myself to the bottom without dying; I could handle a dip in the path, and he Gods damned knew it.

The moment my feet touched the ground at the bottom, he lifted a single hand from where the fabric of my dress hugged my waist. His cloak still hung off my shoulders, wrapping me in a warm embrace. His tunic couldn’t possibly be warm enough, but just like with the drops in the valley floor, he somehow insisted on my comfort over his. Despite how strangely he made me feel, I couldn’t help thinking that there weren’t enough men like him left in my world. Too many were far too consumed with the need to own people and possessions, to the point that they forgot what it meant to care for others.

He tucked the hair behind my ear, those cool fingers lingering on my skin as he stared at the point of contact. My heart fluttered in my chest, the nerves I always seemed to feel around him bubbling to the surface.

When he was quiet, it was easy to forget just how strong his attention was. When he was quiet, it was easy to miss the intensity that blazed in his eyes and the way nothing existed around us the moment his gaze touched mine.

My Fae Mark buzzed with warmth, heating me beneath the cloak and giving me a moment of guilt when I realized just how cold his fingers felt. He had to be freezing, had to be suffering so that I could stay warm.

His Fae Mark glowed a soft white in response, the color of it transfixing me as I raised my hand between us and clutched the clasp on his cloak. His other hand lifted to grasp mine, shaking his head softly to prevent me from

giving it back. “You need it more than I do,” he said, leaning in and touching his lips to my forehead softly.

It reminded me of that same brush of lips I’d felt from him before I fell asleep the night before. Something in the touch felt protective, which I couldn’t even begin to contemplate—not when our lives hung in the balance and uncertainty surrounded us.

Tomorrow wasn’t promised, and while that might have made some people want to live life to the fullest, it only reminded me that Caelum could be taken at any moment. He could be killed or we could be separated, and I’d be left alone all over again. That pain would be even worse if he somehow betrayed me or chose to abandon me.

I wouldn’t allow myself the heartbreak of losing someone else I cared about, so I wouldn’t go there with him, no matter how tempting it might be. Because the one and only man I’d ever allowed to touch me had turned into a pile of snow when he tried to kill me. It was safe to say, my vagina was unfortunately off limits.

“We should reach the mountains by the end of the day,” he said, taking his hand away from my cheek where it lingered and lowering the one from his cloak when I didn’t push to return the garment to him. “We’ll stay close to their bases as we travel, and there’ll be caves we can hide out in at night. Fires will help us stay warm as the weather gets cooler,” he explained, taking my hand in his and turning back to continue the way we’d been traveling.

His long legs had to move considerably slower than seemed natural for him so I could keep up, but he didn’t seem to mind as he kept my hand clutched in his and swung it between us casually. As if we were a married couple out for a stroll in the pre-dusk hours, and not two Fae Marked humans on the run for our lives.

“Okay, but what will we do when the snow comes?” I asked, glancing down at the dress I wore and his thin trousers and tunic. Even if we’d both had cloaks, they would do nothing when we were trudging through waist- deep snow in freezing temperatures with the wind howling through the trees. We needed protection from the elements and layers of blankets and a fire if we were going to survive.

“Before the snow comes, we’ll find a safe place to wait out the worst of the season. We won’t have a choice. Our tracks in the snow will just lead the Mist Guard right to us,” he said. “We probably have a week before we

have to worry about the snow if the weather holds. We can put some decent distance between us and the boundary before then.”

The words he didn’t speak hung between us, a harsh reminder of the one undeniable truth. A lot could happen in a few weeks, and we’d need to survive them before we had to worry about where we would be for the winter.

Even if the thought of hiding out in a cave with him for an entire season, with nothing to do, did make my stomach flutter. No interruptions and no worry of someone stumbling across us. No awkward fumbling to get dressed if we heard people on the trail.

Just the two of us.

I shook my head, blushing when I noted Caelum’s attention fixated on me as he walked. He smirked, as if he could sense the direction my thoughts had gone, then he took pity on me, clearing his throat with a chuckle and turning his attention back toward the path we walked through the woods. “Tell me about your family. Was it just you and your brother?” he asked, his face solemn and sympathetic as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

“My mother too,” I said. “But we had to leave her behind. My birth was difficult, and her legs just can’t support her anymore, so she told us to run after I was Marked.” I sighed, wishing I could turn back and make sure she was safe, but my presence would only put her in danger all over again if I dared, because the Mist Guard wouldn’t hesitate to use family against me if it meant ridding the Kingdom of one more of the Fae Marked.

I shuffled my feet as I walked, dragging them through the leaves in a small protest that my steps continued to take me farther and farther from her and the life I’d known. “Your father?” Caelum asked, his brow furrowed.

With no mention of him in my first response, he had to know there was no happy ending where he was concerned. “Dead. Sacrificed to the Veil when I was a girl,” I answered, my hand unconsciously rising to feel the spot on my throat where the High Priest’s blade had touched me. The wound was gone, and I swallowed past the reminder that I wasn’t entirely human any longer.

“Sacrificed to the Veil,” he said slowly, as if he were turning the idea over in his mouth and trying to decide what to make of it. He tightened his grip on my hand momentarily, apparently brushing off whatever thought had consumed him. “I’m sorry, Little One.”

“It was a long time ago,” I responded, ignoring the flash of pain in my chest, as if time could ease the loss of someone so monumental in my life. My ghosts followed me wherever I went, my grief for them hanging over my head as a constant reminder of how fleeting life could be.

Even so, I didn’t open up and mention that I’d been about to suffer the same fate, or that I’d touched the magical fabric of the Veil in the moments before it fell.

It couldn’t have been my fault. Even so, no one could know what I’d done; I’d touched it in the moments just prior to it shattering. Not if I wanted to live without the blame people would place upon my shoulders.

“The memory of the people who matter to us never leave, no matter how many years pass,” he said, pausing until I met his gaze from the corner of my eye. Something dangerous shifted behind his stare, a dark reminder of how little I actually knew about the man who’d become my travel companion. “Never hesitate to own your love for them, and to make it known that you miss them every day.”

I smiled despite myself, curving my lips up at the corners as he watched the subtle movement. “Who is it that you miss every day? A girlfriend?” I asked, wishing I could mentally stab myself in the mouth.

That was not the kind of question I’d intended to ask to get to know him better, completely inappropriate considering I had no intentions of trying to fill that void if there was one.

Gods. Just kill me.

“I wouldn’t call her a girlfriend, so much. The relationship we had was complicated at best, distant if I’m honest. But things have changed. I don’t miss her anymore,” he admitted. “Relationships are like that. Constantly evolving and changing. Not like family.”

“No. Not like family,” I said, thinking of Loris. While I wouldn’t call him anything more than a friend, in spite of our sexual relations, I’d cared for him in my own way.

“Did you have someone back home?” he asked, his fingers tightening on my hand almost imperceptibly. I only caught it because of my fixation on his body, the way I seemed to be so in tune to the way he moved and the nuances of it.

Everything had a purpose.

“It’s complicated,” I said, huffing a laugh when I realized how similar our answers were. “I had a friend, who was something a little more, but it

never could have gone anywhere.”

His jaw clenched, annoyance crossing his face as he turned back toward the path and gave me his profile. I took pleasure in the stern set to his jaw, and the way his anger was practically palpable in the air. Even if I wouldn’t dare to venture there with him, it was nice to know I wasn’t the only one who felt the strange draw between us. “Why not?” he asked, the words coming out forced through gritted teeth.

“The Lord of Mistfell took an interest in me,” I said, glancing toward the sun in the sky as it slowly made its way across the horizon. Night would fall soon enough, and I hoped Caelum was right and we would reach the base of the mountains by then. I didn’t want to spend another night out in the open if I could avoid it. “He poisoned his wife and determined we would be married instead.”

Caelum twitched, his arm going taut. He kept walking as if he hadn’t flinched from my words. “You said he determined this? Did you agree to it?” The judgment in his tone disappointed me and stung; the men in Mistfell were never judged for their affairs.

Only the women they had them with.

“Of course not, but it isn’t like I would’ve had a choice,” I snapped. “He is a Lord, and I’m nothing more than a peasant who can’t afford a new pair of boots. He made it quite clear I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to live.” I yanked my hand out of his grip.

With the intimacy of our stolen moment gone, I wanted no contact with him and the reminder of what all men did. They judged and they took and they left women to deal with the consequences.

I wanted no part of that.

“I didn’t mean for it to sound as if you had any responsibility for it,” Caelum said, pausing his steps. I continued forward, storming past him in my aggravation with myself, unable to believe that, even for a fleeting moment, I’d allowed myself to believe he could be anything other than what all men were. He took a few quick steps, placing himself at my side as he caught my wrist in his grip and turned me back to face him. “I’m sorry, Little One.”

“I have a name,” I said, the words coming out more sternly than I’d intended.

“I’m aware. It is a beautiful name,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up in amusement. It filled me with the urge to punch him in the

throat, knowing that he didn’t take my anger seriously.

Moving to do just that, I curled the tips of my fingers in and jabbed my knuckles at his voice box. He caught that wrist with his free hand, staring down at me with a raised eyebrow. “That would have hurt.”

“Fuck you. It was meant to,” I snarled, tearing my arm back from his unrelenting grip. He didn’t release me, holding it firm and using it to tug me closer to himself.

My breasts pressed against his stomach, his face leaning over mine as he grinned down at me. His eyes twinkled as those full lips parted to reveal his perfect, white teeth. “Are you ready for that, Estrella?” he murmured my name in that smooth, deep voice of his sounding like a purr of satisfaction. “I was under the impression you were still pretending that wasn’t exactly what you wanted.”

I flushed, shoving two hands against his chest as I attempted to step back. His knowing smile and the gleam in his eyes as he stared down at my pink cheeks meant that I needed distance.

Needed not to feel the ridges of his muscles against my heaving chest. “That is not going to happen,” I said with a glare, lifting my free hand to

pry at where his fingers gripped me. He somehow didn’t hurt me, but there was no releasing his grip until he willed it.

“Whatever you tell yourself to help you sleep at night, Little One. I sleep quite peacefully with my head filled with thoughts of you, and your breathy voice moaning my name while I devour you,” he said, relaxing his grip on my wrist. I stumbled back, finally gaining that desperately needed space between us.

“Don’t be disgusting,” I snapped, straightening his cloak around my shoulders and pulling it closed tight over where my nipples hardened in response to the way he stared at me. My chest heaved, my arousal and humiliation feeling tangible, stealing the very air from my lungs.

“For you, I can be downright fucking filthy, Estrella, and you will love every Gods damned second of it,” he said, taking a few steps toward me and closing the distance between us once again. He raised a hand, toying with a lock of dark hair where it rested against the fabric of his cloak hanging around my shoulders. I swatted his hand away, gritting my teeth and watching his face light with mirth. “The next time a man like the Lord of Mistfell tries to put his hands on you without your permission, you stab

him in the fucking throat,” he said, touching soft fingers to the bottom of my chin and tipping my face up to meet his stare.

Something in those words resonated with me, awakening the part inside that had rebelled against the need to be subservient, for my family. The part of me that had wanted something more.

“Does that include you?” I asked, yanking my head back from his touch.

“If I had any intention of mistreating you, it would. I have no need to violate you like that, Little One. You’ll come to me willingly soon enough,” he said, the arrogance in his voice only driving my aggravation higher. He dropped his hand between us, my body immediately feeling the absence of his touch as he strolled past me and continued down the path.

“We should hurry if we want to reach the mountains by nightfall,” he said casually, as if the tension of the last few moments between us had never happened. I gaped after him for a few seconds, unwillingly staring at the way his muscles seemed to ripple with every movement. He’d be the death of me.

If I didn’t kill him first.