Page 54 of Dynasty of the Wicked

He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her gently, before pulling back. “I don’t want to hurt you, but?—”

She placed her fingers over his lips. “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

Silence filled the space between them. She swallowed down the hard lump in her throat and stared up at the ceiling, suddenly aware of how chilly it was in the small home.

She had to admit that it was rather pathetic that she had latched onto him so tightly—they barely knew each other, and his prior words rang in her ear:Have you been so starved of love that you look for it in places it doesn’t exist? Maybe it didn’t exist yet, but she had hope. He cared for her. And no matter how pathetic it was that she clung to the first person who had shown her attention, she knew deep down that this was different. If he had been somebody else, she wouldn’t have fallen in love. It was because it was him that she’d fallen so hard. He was like her in many ways. Imprisoned. Abandoned. An outcast in society. A disappointment to his family.

She loved him, and she definitely didn’t want to lose him.

Feng Mian traced lazy circles over her stomach, distracting her from her gloomy thoughts. His fingers travelled further up, his hand cupping her breast, teasing the hard peaks with his thumb and forefinger. “I love the way you feel,” he murmured against her. “Especially when you writhe beneath me.”

A blush spread over her cheeks. “Feng Mian, don’t we have to go?”

He sighed, releasing his hold on her and instead hugging her body close to him. “I don’t really want to.”

“But what if the Kadians—” She stopped herself, her gaze darting to the window. Was it her imagination, or did she hear something?

Feng Mian stilled beside her, his once languid expression turning alarmed. He jerked into a sitting position and Zhi Ruoscrambled up with him, wide eyes trained on the door, and then to him.

“Put your clothes on,” he said.

“Wh-What’s happening? Are they here?” She hurried over to the trunk and snatched the gray dress with the red sash that she had picked out earlier. Meanwhile, Feng Mian threw his clothes on as well, grabbing the sword he had stolen from one of the Kadian corpses.

“They’re close. It feels like the whole fucking army is after us.” He released a string of curses, louder this time, as he jammed his arms through the sleeves of his coat. “I should have noticed.”

“They have horses,” she pulled her cloak over her body, clasping the hook with trembling fingers. Of course they would be faster than them, but she hadn’t thought Wyer would put much effort into catching them. An unsettling dread filled her, and she swallowed hard, grabbing the daggers she had taken from one of the Kadian assailants.

“And magic,” he grumbled. “Damn it.”

“Why are they trying so hard to catch us?”

“Notus.” He jammed his feet into his leather boots. “You.”

Zhi Ruo shivered as she slipped her feet into a pair of boots that were much too big. Wyer needed her for his delusional plan of taking over Huo and appointing himself as king; having her as his bride made his potential reign more legitimate. She hated the idea of it.

“Come on.” Feng Mian held his hand out to her just as he yanked the door to the house open. A blast of snow-laden, wintry air blew inside the house, flurries covering the hardwood floor in seconds. Zhi Ruo stepped forward, glancing back at where they had lain just minutes ago. Her throat thickened with unsaid anxieties, and she turned away, slipping her hand in his.

18

They trekkedthrough the frozen landscape, plowing through snow up to their knees. Zhi Ruo’s thighs and calves burned, and her hope dwindled as the scenery became less wooded and more open-spaced with hills and valleys. She could imagine it being vast farmland, which wouldn’t serve them well against a chasing army. Her breath streamed out of her mouth in thick clouds, becoming more exasperated the more they waded through powdery snow.

Her boots were too big for her; she had taken them off one of the corpses yesterday, and had discarded her thin, ruined slippers, but she wondered briefly if it would have been better to keep her old ones. At least then she wouldn’t have snow and ice-slush slipping into the wide gap between her shins and the shaft of the boot, freezing her toes.

Feng Mian’s hand tightened in hers and his magic pulsed between them, sending warmth through her goosebump-ridden flesh. His cheeks were ruddy and wind-chapped, and when he tilted his head in her direction, a pang of worry shot through her.

“They’ll be here soon.”

Zhi Ruo stiffened, her hand going slack in his. “No …No.”

“I can’t tell how many there are, but their numbers are great.” He stopped in his tracks and she almost collapsed beside him. All around them was a tundra of whiteness with a few thin, skeletal trees. They couldn’t hide anywhere and if the army did come upon them now, they could easily be surrounded.

“Are you suggesting we … give up?” Her voice was ripped away by a powerful wind that caused her hair to lash over her face. “Because I will never go back there.Never.”

Her body shuddered at the thought of what Wyer would do to her if he captured them again—torture her, beat her, or assault her in front of his army. Her stomach clenched together and she wanted to vomit, her head feeling light.

A laugh rumbled up his chest despite the grim situation. His lips curved up. “Give up? Come on, Princess, you know me better than that.”

Of course Feng Mian wouldn’t give up. A relieved sigh escaped her lips nonetheless. To know that he still had a fighting spirit within himself. Even as the odds were stacked against their favor.

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