Page 91 of Fearless

She takes her time. Of course she does.

I watch a devious smile curve her lips as she strides slowly toward the bedroom window and into the streaming moonlight. She takes a long moment on the other side of that locked glass, committing the sight of me begging for her attention to memory. So I stand there helplessly, gripping a branch while entirely at her mercy.

Shaking my head at her cruelty, I will myself not to look down at the gaping span of open air beneath me. Izram’s rocky soil grows few plants and even less grass, but I discovered a small patchy field behind the castle on my search for a discreet way into Paedyn’s room. The few trees that sway back here are clustered close to the white stone, one of which even brushes against Pae’s window.

And now I’ve climbed it for her.

I hear the latch click before she’s finally pushing open the swinging glass pane. “You’ve already broken one arm climbing a tree. Do you really wish to tempt fate again?”

I smile, because I can’t seem to help it when she plays with me, but also because she remembers what I had told her under that willow so long ago. “Kitt and I were visiting Ava when that happened, you know.” I watch her eyes widen at the confession she could have only understood now. “He bet that I could never climb the willow as quickly as Ava once had, and I knew damn well he was right, but…”

“But you tried,” she finishes with a small smile. “And landed face-first in the dirt.”

I chuckle and carefully inch closer to the window. “It was worth it. I was visiting A, and for a moment, it felt as though she was with me.”

My words have something shifting in her expression. “And if you fell now? Would it be worth it?”

I reach through the window to grip the sill, my knuckles brushing her hips. “Well, I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” She flashes a worrying smile that has me adding, “That’s not an invitation to push me, Gray.” Her laugh skitters over my skin as I climb through the window, planting my boots beside her bare feet.

My gaze falls to the scar peeking out from beneath the thick strap of her tank. This look doesn’t go unnoticed, and she is quick to turn back toward her borrowed bed. “What are you doing here?”

I clear my throat. “I didn’t see you yesterday. Figured you missed me.”

“That’s why you climbed through my window?” She snorts. “BecauseImissedyo—?”

I’ve moved before even realizing. My hands are on her hips, and I’m spinning her around to face me before my mouth crashes into hers.

It’s incessant. Fervent. Relief.

She’s startled for a heartbeat, but parting her lips for me in the next. Ipull her close, feeling her hot skin beneath the thin clothing she wears. Her body melts against mine, and a soft sound slips between her lips that has me gripping that silver hair between my fingers.

I force myself to pull away, smiling at her reluctance to let me go. “Fine,” she breathes against my lips. “I might have missed you a little.”

I chuckle before planting kisses along her jaw. This has a soft sigh dripping from her parted lips, and I’m not sure she knows how much power the sound has over me. I feel her throat bob beneath my fingers. “How are… how are things at the ship?”

I pull back with an amused smile. “That is what you want to talk about? The ship?”

“Well, we leave tomorrow afternoon,” she says breathlessly. “I’d like to know my odds of survival.”

My voice lowers into something more serious. “And if I say that this could be your final night alive?”

“Darling”—she flicks my nose lightly, wearing a cool smile—“every night could be my last.”

The use of my name for her has a ridiculous grin lighting my face. But then she’s spinning on her heel and plopping down on the plush covers of her bed. I follow slowly, shoving my now-idle hands into the pockets of my dark pants. “Well, the ship is still floating, if that is what you’re asking. Though, I’m not sure for how long.”

“You don’t think it will survive the trip back?” she asks slowly.

“Only time will tell.”

She sighs as if I’ve told her something she has already known. With a beckoning pat of her hand against the comforter, I swiftly obey and sit. That blue gaze drifts over me in the dim moonlight. “You…” Her finger finds the ring on her thumb and begins spinning it swiftly. “You said ‘A’ earlier. Is that what you used to call Ava?”

I nod slowly. “Yes. It was.”

“That’s what I called Adena.” She blinks rapidly, as if to ward off tears before they form. “I guess I’m just not used to hearing the nickname for anyone else.”

Something in my chest begins its steady ache. It might just be my blackened heart or stained soul. Or perhaps it’s the piece of me that belongs to her, and I’m simply feeling a sliver of the pain she possesses.

“She was my A.” My throat tightens. “Ava was my Adena. But they don’t go far.” I gently lift her arm until she’s pressing a palm to her beating heart. “Your A lives here now.”

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