Page 103 of Cursed Shadows 4

The mouth-watering scent alone is enough to lure me to the log that’s flat on the grass.

I drop onto it with a grunt and watch Dare stand over the flames, narrowed eyes sweeping the meat cuts and a stick ready in his hand.

“I filled up the waterskins,” I tell him as I scoot to the edge of the log, a touch closer to the searing sensation of the flames on my skin.

He nods, faint.

Doesn’t lift his tense stare from the sizzling meat.

It’s a struggle not to hug my arms around myself. Need to let the heat of the fire reach every thread of my sweater.

I let my socks dry, draped over the edge of my backpack, and my boots splayed out next to them.

I long for my lost gloves.

“Should I forage?” I ask, curling my toes against the roaring heat of the campfire.

For a moment, I don’t think he’s going to respond. Then, another moment, and I don’t think he even heard me.

“Dare?” I press.

He lifts a frown to me.

“Worried the meat will burn if you don’t stalk it?”

The frown lingers on the marble of his face.

His golden eyes are steel.

Not feeling his softer side. His eyes are his tell.

Dare huffs through his nose as he pushes over the meat cuts with the edge of the forked stick. Perfectly cooked grey is revealed.

My mouth soaks itself.

I swallow, hard.

Patience.

“It’s not the meat,” he murmurs.

“What is it?” I ask. “Is it here—the camp? It’s still daylight,” I add with a glance up at the clouds. “We have time before we need to move on.”

He shakes his head. Soft waves, some coated in blood, rustle over his forehead. “It’s the kinta,” he says after a moment, lips curling around his words.

I blink, startled.

The kinta.

Bee?

I’d almost forgotten her.

“What about her?”

“She’s niggling.” His pale, slender hand lifts with a gesture to his head,his mind, where she’s apparently burrowed, “endlessly,” he adds. “It is bothersome.”

I lean my side onto the log, as a cat would sprawl.

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