Page 37 of Dynasty of the Wicked

“Like touch,” he whispered.

Zhi Ruo’s face flushed with heat and she was sure he could feel it against his hand.

“Did you finish the stitches?”

“Err, uh.” She blinked back, trying to focus on the wound once more. She had only done four stitches so far, and by the looks of it, he would need maybe ten. “No, I still have a few to do. You can keep talking. About, um, your magic.”

“I can sense living creatures like it’s second nature, but the rest of my surroundings take more concentration, so I don’t do it all the time.” He traced her jaw and a shiver ran down her spine.It was getting harder to concentrate on his words and the task at hand. “But when I’m on the battlefield, I have to focus on all my senses. Touch, smell, sounds.”

Now his fingers were on her hair, where he rubbed a strand between his fingers slowly—sensually.

“Do inanimate objects have an energy about them?” she asked, adding another stitch with shaking hands. This time, it wasn’t from nervousness, but something else. She spoke quickly, as if the sparse moment of clarity would be lost in seconds. “Is that why you can, um, sense if there’s a wall or not?”

Feng Mian shook his head. “Only living creatures emit life energy. Everything else—like walls or houses or arrows—don’t emit anything, but when I spread my magic, I know there’s something there.”

“Oh, I see—” She inhaled sharply when he placed a hand against her collarbone, with his fingers lightly pressing the side of her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Using my sense of touch.” He titled his head to the side, his silken hair spilling over his shoulder with the motion. “I want to know what you feel like.”

“What I—” A blush spread over her face. Did he mean … inthatway?

No, that couldn’t be it. He wasn’t interested in her like that.

She turned her attention back to his injury and tried to focus despite the fluttering of butterflies in her lower belly. She shifted on her numbing legs and leaned closer toward the partially sewn wound. “Feng Mian, let me focus, all right? I’m almost done.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

Zhi Ruo finished the rest of the stitches while Feng Mian rubbed his thumb over her collarbone in gentle circles. Maybe he needed something to focus on, she thought as she cut the end of the thread with her teeth. She was glad he couldn’t see how much she was blushing.

“I don’t let people touch me casually,” she said as she mixed water into the bowl of powder. Her voice was soft and quiet, and the only other sounds were his ragged breaths and the flickering flame in the lantern. “You touch me too much.”

“Do you dislike it?”

Zhi Ruo mixed the salve with her fingers, before smearing the concoction over the fresh stitches. His body tensed under her touch. “No.”

Feng Mian canted his head and the orange lantern light caused his silvery eyes to appear almost white. “No?”

“No.” She didn’t elaborate and instead bound his wound with the bandages and sat back, away from him. She didn’t want him to realize just how much her heart was pounding in her chest, how wild her emotions were around him. Just the admission that she didn’t dislike his touch sent a ripple of excitement through her.

She waited for him to reach forward for her, for him to maybe grasp her with his strong hands, to dosomethingsince she had admitted she enjoyed being with him. But he didn’t do anything, only sat there, his attention planted on the floor.

Minutes passed, and then he laid down, his back to her. “Thank you.”

She blinked at him, her heart sinking.

Had he just … rejected her?

Zhi Ruo slowly eased herself onto the pile of hay littered between them. Her eyes stung and her throat felt thick with emotion. She didn’t know what to think, or what to feel. He confused her, more than anything. He was always touching her, pulling her onto his lap, kissing her, and now …nothing?

She didn’t know what to think, so she turned away from him and curled into a ball. Maybe it was better this way.

11

Days passedand Zhi Ruo was no closer to mastering her magic than she had been the first time. She was only able to practice during the nights when she and Feng Mian were left alone, but every time she tried, her magic was either too volatile, uncontrollable, or she could barely make it do what she wanted. She could tell Feng Mian was growing frustrated. Time was running out and she had no idea when Wyer would decide to marry her, or dosomethingwith her. Each passing day was filled with dread, her mind drenched in thoughts ofwhat ifs.

They marched through burned villages, the aftermaths of battles won by the Kadians, and Zhi Ruo was forced to watch as they piled corpses in the center of the towns, spiking some on wooden poles and burning the rest. Some were soldiers, but most were poor farmers, civilians, women and children. She had never seen such beastly cruelty before. It haunted her to see how far into Huo lands the Kadian army invaded.

Ever since the night she had stitched Feng Mian up, she could tell there was a distance between them. She wasn’t sure if she had done something wrong, or if Feng Mian was still embarrassed that she had seen him be made into a spectacle.She wanted to broach the subject, but any time she tried, he pulled her focus back to practicing magic.

---