Page 40 of Ivy & Bone

A fierce wind billowed around them, swirling Prue’s skirts and whipping at their hair. Prue’s curls rippled around her like waves in the ocean while Cyrus’s hair just fell forward over his face, blocking his vision.

The carriage rattled away, returning down the path toward Voula City, as Prue and Cyrus faced the snowcapped mountains before them.

Emdale Mountains. Already, the fierce coldness of the towering peaks seeped into Cyrus’s bones, making him shiver.

“We should get going,” Prue said, glancing over her shoulder. Her hand went to the pomegranate necklace at her throat, almost subconsciously. “I’d like to make as much progress as we can before nightfall. But we’ll probably have to make camp within the mountains somewhere.” She shuddered, biting her lip as she gazed upward toward the peaks, a look of hesitation and unease crossing her features.

“Have you ever climbed a mountain before?” Cyrus asked.

She shook her head. “Have you?”

“No.” Even if there were mountains in the Underworld, it would’ve been an illusion and nothing more. Nothing to prepare him for the reality of this. “But we both have magic.” At a significant look from Prue, he amended, “You have magic. And I am immortal. I think we’ll be fine.”

“But what about the ghosts?” Prue pointed to the sky. There were more ghosts now, probably a dozen or more.

“They didn’t seem to notice your healing spell earlier,” Cyrus muttered thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s only large and powerful spells that pull them in. Like the summoning spell you cast.”

“Or the wards around Krenia,” Prue mused. Then, she shook her head. “Regardless, I’m not taking any chances.” She set down her bag and started wriggling out of her dress, her hands fumbling as she undid the buttons along her back.

“Um,” Cyrus said uncertainly. “What are you doing?”

“Changing,” Prue grunted. “I don’t fancy freezing my ass off in that thin dress.” She gestured to the pile of fabric on the ground, now ripped and stained with dirt and blood. The floral pattern was barely visible beneath the stains.

Cyrus arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms as he watched her struggle to reach the lower buttons, her fingers shaking from the cold. His mouth twitched in amusement.

At long last, Prue huffed in exasperation and dropped her arms. “Could you help me?”

Cyrus laughed. “I thought you’d fight for hours with that monstrosity before asking for help.”

“I considered it,” she grumbled.

As Cyrus approached, Prue suddenly went stiff, shooting him a sharp look. “Don’t try anything.”

All amusement fled from him, replaced by a cold chill. “I thought we’d been through this. I would never do anything like that to you, Prue.”

She surveyed him through narrowed eyes as if she didn’t believe him. He couldn’t blame her. He was a monster, after all, regardless of her statement in the carriage. She only said that because she didn’t really know him. In truth, there was nothing he wasn’t capable of.

But eventually, her expression softened, and she nodded once before turning away from him. Cyrus squinted at the neat column of buttons along the fabric. Gods, they were positively miniscule. Whoever designed this gown must have intended to torture women.

“How did you even get this dress on?” he asked.

“My hands weren’t nearly as cold when I got dressed this morning,” Prue said defensively.

“Hmm.” Cyrus’s brows furrowed, but he was too focused on the damned buttons to argue.

“Probably should have changed back in town,” Prue admitted, her teeth chattering.

“Yes,” Cyrus agreed. “But there was a demon after us, so . . .”

Prue huffed a laugh at that. Cyrus’s fingers were numb with cold by the time he finished undoing all the buttons. He stood back as Prue hobbled out of her dress, now in nothing but her shift. It wasn’t anything Cyrus hadn’t seen before, but for some reason, his eyes were drawn to the way the thin, sheer fabric hugged her curves. He couldn’t stop staring at the stark shape of her nipples visible from underneath, no doubt stiff from the chilled air.

Prue caught him staring, and her cheeks reddened. “You should change, too. You’ll want to be in something warmer.”

Cyrus blinked. “Right.” He shuffled through his bags until he found the suit he’d purchased earlier. It certainly wasn’t conducive to hiking up a snowy mountain, but the clothing shops hadn’t exactly provided practical gear. Voula City seemed more focused on fashion—comfort be damned.

As Cyrus rummaged through the different pieces of clothing, trying to figure out which to don first, he couldn’t resist glancing over at Prue. The dress she’d picked was a deep plum that brought out the purple in her eyes, and Cyrus couldn’t help but notice it scooped low, revealing much of her bosom. Had she chosen such a dress on purpose?

He shook his head quickly, trying to rid himself of such foolish thoughts. But he caught her peering at him with curiosity as he stripped out of his worn and ragged clothes. Her eyes roved over his bare chest and the tattoos all over his skin. Her words from earlier rang in Cyrus’s head: I like them.

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