Page 7 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

When we get to the chewy, disgusting tail, Damien says, “Not it!” It’s funny, really; us and Elliae used to fight over who got the tail during the early days of hunting when there wasn’t enough food to go around. It got so bad our moms came up with a rotating system for us but never took the tail for themselves. Nowadays it doesn’t matter that no one wants to eat it, we would never waste it.

Besides, if I was hungrier, I’d fight for it.

My mouth waters as Damien grabs the orange berries and nectar. It isn’t every day that we get something sweet. He fills my palm with the berries and tells me the nectar is for after the rena. Smart. I try to take my time but end up shoveling the whole handful of berries into my mouth at once. And when the rena is in front of me, I find myself excited for the first time in the ten days since the dreams began.

We play a game Damien came up with—the one we always play when the mornings are slow, but with booze this time. One of us says three words and the other person has three chances to guess what the other is talking about. If you can’t, then you drink.

“Bright, cold, rock,” Damien says.

“The Stone of Light.” Soma’s Soul Stone.

“Good guess. But no.”

“Rock?” I ask.

“Is that a guess?”

“No,” I say seriously. “I’m thinking.”

He pushes his finger into the crease between my eyebrows, above my nose. “No need to get so perplexed.”

I scrunch my nose at him. Bright cold rock. The only thing I can think of is a Soul Stone, and the only one of those that would be considered cold is on Soma. Oh. “A moon,” I say.

Damien tips the bottle back. “That was fast.”

A moon is mysterious to us, seeing as we don’t have one on Lorucille.

Five sips later and I’m lying on the dirt with my head on Damien’s chest, watching the dancing stars. “That one looks like a soldier,” I say, pointing at a cluster of stars that looks like someone holding a sword.

“I’ve heard stories that they put the souls in the sky when they’re ready to rest,” Damien says, referring to the gods. There are three of them that everyone knows: the lunar goddess, Sulva; the solar god, Ayan; and the goddess of balance, Zola. No one talks much about them here besides my mom.

“That’s nice,” I say, but I don’t think it is.

“Des?” Damien says. His voice is soft, and it worries me. He also used my real name—well, part of it—instead of calling me Red. That means this is serious. I don’t want to do serious right now, but I flip on my stomach and look at him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just keeps staring. Until I finally lean in and press my lips to his.

I think I’ve thought about this a lot more than I’d care to admit.

I pull away. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Damien shakes his head, then grabs the back of mine, pulling me into him again. My lips grow numb against his—from the rena or the kisses, I’m not sure.

When Damien pulls away, he still holds the back of my head, and he says, “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

Perfect.

“We can,” I say softly.

He smiles at me and pushes a piece of my orange hair behind my ear. “I wish we could,” he says again.

“No, we really can.” I’m sitting up now. “We can hunt, I can cook. We could sleep under the stars. It would be easier than what we do now!”

“Okay,” he says, sitting up too. “What about Isa?” My mom, who is leaving, but I don’t say that. “Or Elliae? Wella? Layla? My mom? The five of them are probably worried beyond wit’s end. Just leaving for the night was a bad enough idea.”

I lean back, away from him. “You think this was a bad idea?”

“No, no, Des, that’s not what I mean.” I can hear in his voice that he’s being honest, but it’s not enough.

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