“Bad news,” he said, stepping into their cabin. “Dinner won’t be…”
The sound of soft snoring made him fall quiet.
Rune was asleep on top of the covers, bathed in white moonlight. Her illusion had worn off, giving him a perfect view of her rust-gold hair spilling across the pillow. Her dress lay in a heap on the floor, and covering everything but her legs was his shirt, which she was wearing.
The sight made his chest squeeze.
Didn’t she have a proper nightgown?
Rune’s mouth lay partly open, and her breath stirred a strand of hair stuck to her cheek. She seemed like just a girl, lying there. Innocent. Vulnerable.
His gaze slid down her pale legs, snagging on the silvery scars etched into her calf. Drawn like a magnet, he set down the water he’d brought and sat on the small bed’s edge. The scars formed a pattern of moths in flight. The delicate things startedat the base of her ankle and fluttered up her calf, stopping below the back of her knee.
He wanted to hate them.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he had the strangest urge to take her leg in his hands and trace the silver lines. Memorize them with his fingers.
Or his mouth.
Gideon shut his eyes.What is wrong with me?
This girl had betrayed him in the worst way. And she’d betray him again—he’d be a fool to think she wouldn’t.
And she’s still wearing Alex’s ring.
Guilt stabbed at him.
He hated himself for the thoughts in his head, for flirting with her at dinner, fortouchingher like he had. As if she belonged to him. He vividly recalled Rune pulling his hand up her leg, and the molten desire that had flooded him. This was the girl his brother had loved. The girl who’d be married to Alex right now if Gideon hadn’t failed to protect him.
It should be Alex sharing her bed. Now Alex was gone, and Gideon, who’d always tried to be a good older brother, had moved right in. Even if it was pretend.
Gideon let out a ragged sigh. Stepping back. Watching her sleep. Forcing himself to remember she wasn’t some innocent girl.
She was the Crimson Moth.
A rebel witch.
Gideon remembered their conversation in the saloon.
You told me there’s a missing Roseblood heir. If that’s true, I’m going to find them. All I want is a chance to warn them of Cressida’s plans.
She might be lying to him. She might secretly be planning to aid Cressida from inside the Republic.
But Gideon didn’t care about that so much. He cared that she’d thrown a wrench into his plans. Now he needed to decide between arresting Rune once theArcadiamade port—or waiting for something better.
It was Rune who’d given him the idea.
If I give you the location, you’ll have your witch hunters lying in wait to ambush us.
If Gideon did as he’d promised—smuggling Rune past the Blood Guard and their hounds, handing the sibyl over—there might be a way to eradicate not only Cressida and her army, but this missing Roseblood heir. Because even if Cressida was destroyed, there would still be other witches ready to take up her cause.
Her sisters could still be resurrected by someone else.
Rune didn’t need to give him the location. She just needed to unwittingly lead him to it. And once she summoned the missing Roseblood and Gideon eliminated them, he’d resume his plan of taking Rune hostage and using her to barter with Soren.
There was just one problem:
