Page 32 of A Court of Truth and Thorns
Clearly, Rune is right about my pitiful survival skills. A whole army could march on me right now and I wouldn’t notice.
I clear my throat and find my footing. My legs regretfully take my full weight. The snowflake on Rune’s lip melts and rolls down his mouth. I catch it with my finger.
Rune gasps lightly as my finger touches his lips. A rush of sudden desire heats the air between us. His eyes widen, his breath coming as quickly as mine does. His fingers slide up my neck, cradling the base of my head with a deadly strength tamed to a gentle touch. I inhale his scent. Familiar. Musky. Distinctly his.
I rise onto my toes, my mouth reaching toward his. I can already taste him. Exquisitely warm. Primal. My heart pounds.
Rune bends his head to let our lips complete their connection.
My heart halts in anticipation.
And sprints into a full gallop at the sudden pounding of approaching hoofbeats and a shrill yell. Rune and I spring apart.
A throwing dagger drops into my hand, Rune’s sword already glistening in his. Our hobbled horses dance and whinny as they feel one of their own approaching. The horse is visible now, a single animal running too hard for the terrain. The rider, bundled in layers of wool, pulls up beside us with a hard jerk on the reins.
Rune grabs the bridle before the unhappy animal throws its burden to the ground. The sharp edge of his sword rests against the intruder’s neck. “Who are you?” he demands. “And what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to ask the same of you.” The rider pulls down her hood. “Don’t just stand there, brother. Help me down off this beast.”
22
KALI
“Stars, I’m weary.” Raza sinks to the ground, rubbing the back of her neck. “Won’t someone offer me water?”
“No,” says Rune.
Wil, who’s taken Raza’s mount, swears loudly. “He’s exhausted. And going lame.”
Raza rolls her eyes. “He’s a horse. There are others.”
I swallow a growl, my body as frustrated with the interruption of its dance with Rune’s as my mind is with the princess’s presence. I take deep breaths and lean against a tree, struggling to calm my aroused senses before I do something to Rune’s little sister that he cannot forgive.
Then again, he’s glaring at Raza with enough fury to send any sane person groveling. “Why did you follow us?”
“I’ve come looking for my betrothed, of course,” says Raza. “Now that I know what you and Father planned for me, that is.”
A flicker of guilt shimmers through my wall of fury. I’dspared not one thought for how Owain’s plan would affect the second half of his proposed arrangement.
Rune, however, gives Raza no quarter. “Who saw you leave?” he demands.
“Everyone. I announced I was going for a ride around the estate and told each set of guards that the other was coming with me. They will be conferring with each other and searching the bridle paths for at least a day. Now, Prince William.” Pulling herself straight, Raza strides to Wil and plucks the currycomb from his hand. “Let Rune care for the beast—he enjoys playing commoner. You’ve been so difficult to track down this past week. But now we have the chance to get to know each other.”
“I think I know everything I need to know about you, Your Highness,” Wil says.
“If we are to be married—”
“We aren’t.” Wil grabs a pick and tends to the horse’s hooves, each movement taking him farther from the princess. Raza follows. Wil walks around to the other side of the horse. “I’m not marrying you, Raza.” He bends around the horse’s neck to get a direct line of sight to Rune. “Correction, the gelding isn’t going lame, heislame. Shouldn’t be ridden.”
“Then Raza will return on foot,” Rune growls.
“No!” She spins around to face him. “Or I’ll tell Father that your whore kidnapped my beloved Prince William at sword point and you went after them. When Father gets his hands on her, she’ll miss Camp Vanguard.”
Before I can utter a word in response, Raza is knocked to the ground, Rune’s kneecap digging into her upper belly. The girl’s good eye widens, her mouth working to draw denied breath. Rune’s flushed face towers over her. Raza claws the dirt.
I’m moving before I know it, my fingers finding a tenderspot on Rune’s neck and gripping hard. “Enough,” I shout. “You’ve made your point. Are you twelve? Get the hells off your sister.”
Rune twists to me, his nostrils flaring.
