Page 39 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

“About me?”

“About myself.”

“After what I saw tonight, I’m inclined to agree.”

“That? Parlor tricks.”

She snorted. “Conjuring fire is a parlor trick? Stars, the High Lord should just hand you the title and spare the rest of us.”

His open, easy expression hardened, and his gaze, which had grown playful during their back and forth, shuttered. He stared at her intently, his eyes raking over her face.

“How?” he asked, his voice tortured.

Some inexplicable emotion twisted in her chest. “How what?”

“How did you come to be here? With him? Working for him? Bound tohim?”

“I told you yesterday, he saved me.”

“Saved you? Reyna, you were kidnapped.”

It was her turn to drain of all lighthearted playfulness.This again.

“And as I also explained to you yesterday, I am not Reyna. I’m Shadow. You have me confused with someone else.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw, and his hands curled into fists. “One of us is confused, but it’s not me.”

She shook her head, feeling completely out of sorts. Nothing about this interaction was normal for her. It was rare that anyone willingly sought her out—they were too afraid of her to dare. It was rarer still that she deigned to engage in small talk with them when they did. Especially someone outside of the High Lord’s flock.

Unless they were an assignment, of course, but that was different.

This was unfamiliar territory.

For a few seconds, it had been easy; the words had flowed between them as effortlessly as breathing. For once she hadn’t been thinking in moves like ‘if he goes for my wrist, I’ll drop him with a knee to the groin or a blade through the ribs.’ She’d simply existed in the moment, enjoying the banter, eager to hear what came out of his mouth next. But then he’d called her by that other woman’s name, and her walls slammed back into place.

Not sure where to go from here, she opted for a tactical retreat. “If you’ll excuse me, I should probably get back inside.”

“Rey—Sh-Shadow, wait.” He fumbled over her name, his expression pained as he took a step toward her. “Please, will you just stay out here and talk with me for a while?” It looked like there was more he wanted to say, and she sensed the fists at his side weren’t threatening violence but were his attempt to keep from touching her.

A part of her wanted him to lose the battle just so she could know what it would be like. His hands on her skin. His lips against hers. She mentally slapped herself.

Bad, Shadow. Very, very bad.

When she didn’t immediately respond or make any move to leave, he took another tentative step, this time lifting his hand. He moved so slowly, giving her every opportunity to stop him.

She didn’t.

Reaching for her, he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. Then he trailed the tips of his fingers along her jaw. As his fingers skated over her skin, she forgot how to breathe. The act was so simple, yet it left her craving so much more as a wave of goosebumps rushed down her neck and arms.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“You don’t even know me.”

He glanced down at her lips, his eyes hooded. “I know you better than you think.”

She’d never been this aware of her pulse. How it fluttered at the side of her neck, how it buzzed in her veins and roared in her ears. She barely even recognized her voice when a reply slipped from her, completely unbidden.

“Impossible.”

---