Despite the chill of his touch, warmth bloomed beneath her skin. She slid her face out of his grasp and changed the subject. “How long have you been out here?”
But she could tell he didn’t remember.
“We have to get you home.”
When she finally untangled him from the thorns, she unzippedPa’s jacket and put it on him. Together, they climbed the hill. Emeline grabbed on to the nearest tree, then pulled Hawthorne up; he reached for the next one and did the same for her, until they were at the top. She helped him onto Lament, then followed up behind, looping her arms around his waist.
The whole way back to the city, their bodies convulsed with cold. Emeline clung to him, trying to keep them both warm.
Lament soon flew through the city gate, swift as the wind. When they arrived at the creek near his house, they found the water risen beyond the bank. It rushed across the bridge, flooding over Lament’s hooves.
In the yard, Emeline helped Hawthorne down.
“This way,” she said, heading towards the house, unable to stop her teeth from chattering. Her wet jeans chafed her skin, her sweater was soaked through, and her hair hung in cold, wet clumps down her back.
Wrapping her arm around his waist, Emeline pulled him against her, trying to lend him what little body heat she had left. He paused, hesitant, then slid his arm across her shoulders. Doing the same.
“What are you doing in the woods at night?” he asked suddenly, his voice washing over her. “In the middle of a storm?”
That voice. Her heart thudded at the sound. She’d thought she’d never hear it again.
“I was looking for someone.”
“Someone …?”
“Someone I love.”
The thunder quieted as it rolled into the distance and as the rain stopped, the silence grew heavy between them.
She decided to ask his question back to him. “What wereyoudoing in the woods tonight?”
“I heard someone singing.”
Surprised, she glanced up to find him studying her.
His voice softened. “It was a sad song, like a farewell. It … wait.”
Hawthorne looked around them. “Where are you taking me?”
Swallowing, she nodded towards the stone house up ahead. “Home.” It was no longer dark inside. Instead, the windows glowed warmly, lit from within.
Odd.Emeline had turned down all the lamps before she left earlier.
“Your home?” His teeth clattered loudly.
Emeline pulled him closer, shaking her head. “No. Yours.”
They were ten steps away from the door. Then seven. Then four.
His muscles tensed with uncertainty.
Three more steps.
With her cheek against his chest, she felt the strong thump of his heart through Pa’s slick jacket. Her hand reached for the knob. Turning it, she pushed the door open.
A fire already crackled in the hearth. Emeline searched for signs of Rooke or Sable, but no one was there. The house was empty.
She stepped inside.
