Or at the very least, make the serpent bitch reevaluate her life choices.
Iempty my satchel across my chosen pallet. One of seventeen surprisingly plush nooks carved into the tree’s circumference on this lower level. Another twirl of stairs leads to the second story, which is equipped with a kitchen, more slumber nooks, an abundance of lookout windows, and shelves laden with lost property Pyrok was quick to rifle through the moment we got in, given he forgot to pack spare clothes.
“Everyone hungry?” Kaan asks from where he’s sitting on the central seater that dominates the space in the shape of a hook—digging through his satchel. Lifting out parcels of wrapped produce he sets on the plump, patchwork upholstery.
From somewhere above, Pyrok shouts his enthusiasm while his brother grunts something mildly committal.
“Not me,” I murmur, stuffing a few things back in my satchel.
“You’re not hungry?” Kaan’s voice threatens to swallow me. Like a warm hug after a bloody beating that didn’t exactly go my way. “After walking all dae?”
The urge to spin, stride into his arms, and ask him to hold me tight is so abrupt, overwhelming, andnew, that for a moment, I wonder what’s wrong with me. Before realizing it’s most likely a symptom of this explosive feeling in my chest.
Love.
It takes me a moment to recompose before I look back over my shoulder, glimpsing Kaan crouched beside his open satchel—shirtless, wearing those loose brown pants I heartily appreciate, holding what looks like a lump of wrapped meat in one hand, a knobby green hock root in the other. His freshly washed hair is down and dripping water beads all over his broad shoulders. A vision that almost makes me want to open myself to Rayne and hear exactly what song she’s singing as she drags across that gorgeous skin—
Almost.
Rather than tell him how beautiful he is—or that the thought of eating makes me want to dry heave—I forge a smile. “Not right now. But thank you.”
His brows pull together.
I turn, smile falling as I dig through my meager supplies for a shirt that’s not covered in mud. I’m just unbuttoning myself when Kaan’s dense presence steps up behind me—warm.
Every fiber of my being tightens at his close proximity.
He reaches around and grips my chin. Turns my head, forcing me to spin until we’re almost chest to chest, tipping me until I’m looking up into his eyes. “You hurt your leg.”
When did he have the chance to notice that?
“It was a very long, very muddy walk. I lost my footing more than once.”
Not a lie. I’m just omitting the fact that Sereme’s a torturous asshole.
Kaan arches a brow. “Did you also injure your back?”
“I— What?”
His heavy gaze roves across my face like he’s hunting all the cracks I’m trying to conceal. “You’re holding yourself differently.”
I straighten my posture, open my mouth to say …something, when Pyrok jumps down the final few stairs, landing with athumploud enough to rouse every dragon in Bhoggith. If the tree wasn’t sufficiently runed.
“What’re we cooking? I’m fuckin’ starved.”
Leaping at the opportunity to avoid lying to Kaan, I toss my clean shirt back on the pallet and step away, seeing Roan seated at the round wooden table, all his tinctures and crafting supplies scattered across it.
I still.
The way he’s crouched over a looking glass—etching stick in hand, eyes half shielded by all that curly, ruddy hair—has my heart lurching so high in my throat it’s impossible to breathe past. So brutally reminded of my lovely, fallen Essi that for a moment, I’m tossed back to a different time.
A different place.
Roan dips the tip of his etching stick into a small cut on his palm and continues scratching runes across a sheet of copper.Exactlyas I’ve seen Essi do time and time again.
It’s almost enough to make my chest cave.
“Creators, Roan.” Pyrok lumbers past, his tight blue shirt riding halfway up his midriff. “This room was tidy before I went upstairs and fancied myself up. How you function surrounded by all that mess baffles the fuck outta me.” He dashes a thick yellow scarf around his neck and flops onto the seater, ripping the side seam of his pilfered red pants, then reaches back and tucks his hand behind his head.
