Page 116 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

A girl with midnight hair and cursed eyes. A girl he could barely speak to without betraying the stutter he kept so carefully hidden.

A girl he wanted to kiss.

Over and over.

Until he no longer felt his lips.

Mal stood, smoothing her dress as if nothing had passed between them. ‘It shall pass,’ she said. ‘They will forget the fight in a few days.’ She nodded towards the armchair. ‘Are you sleeping in here again tonight?’

The words hung between them, weightless yet heavy with meaning.

An invitation? Or merely an acknowledgment of the space he had chosen to keep between them?

He thought of following her. Thought of standing and stepping towards her, of closing the distance and watching the dress slip from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Thought of pressing his body to hers beneath the sheets, of letting the heat of his skin chase away the cold that seemed to cling to her even in this sweltering land.

His fingers twitched against the armrest.

He said nothing.

And in his silence, she turned away.

‘Goodnight, Fire Prince.’

…

Mal awoke to the abrupt rustling of heavy curtains, the suffocating darkness of the room ripped away by the morning light. A beam of golden firelight stretched across her bed, and with it came a thrill of anticipation.

Finally.

Today, she would have answers.

Klara would have no choice but to explain everything—the truth about Vera, the uncanny sameness in their scent, and whether or not she too was tangled in the web of witchcraft.

But the moment Mal’s gaze settled on the maid flitting about the room, her excitement curdled.

This wasnotKlara.

Her smile vanished.

‘Where is Klara?’ she demanded, her voice edged with warning.

The servant startled, hands fumbling as she dropped a tray of apples onto the floor. She scrambled to collect them, her breathcoming in short, nervous bursts before she finally found the courage to speak. ‘She was unwell this morning, your highness. She asked me to come in her stead.’

Mal’s lips curled into a snarl.Lies.

She threw off the covers, rising in a blur of movement, already moving towards the door. Her nightgown fluttered behind her, sheer white fabric catching the early light. She barely spared a glance at the empty side of the room where Ash had been the night before. He was gone, no doubt to the training yards before the first glimmer of dawn. He always left without a sound, though Mal knew it had nothing to do with stealth. She simply slept so deeply that not even lightning splitting the sky above her bed would rouse her if her body did not will it.

‘Your highness, you are not fully dressed yet!’ the maid gasped, eyes wide as Mal swept past her.

Mal didn’t care.

She took the stairs two at a time, making her way towards the wing where the guests were housed. She had committed every room to memory, and she knew exactly where to go.

Wren Wynter’s chambers were situated beside her brother Bryn’s, their shared hallway also home to the wild and unruly royals from House of Wild.

Mal did not knock.

She stormed into the room, barely taking in the modest accommodations before her gaze landed on the small, sprawled figure upon the bed.

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