The twins sigh in relief, and it doesn’t take them long to push the crates aside and drop to the ground. They hug each other, murmuring about sharing body heat.
If I had a cloak, I’d give it to them to keep warm, but in my haste to follow the king out of the ball, I didn’t grab one. They should be warm enough for now—the suns will rise soon, and the day shouldn’t be too cold—but Wren is right, winter is setting in.
Resting my back against the wall, I settle in to begin my vigil. A forest looms outside the grate, and from here, I can see the base of the trees as well as the tunnel entrance that led us here.
I won’t be sleeping today. Not with all these threats hanging over my head. Thank the suns I’m used to staying awake for extended periods of time, since it’s often required on a hunt.
A whisper of fabric comes from beside me, and I look over.
“Thank you, Gabriel.” Wren is crouched to my left, wringing her hands. “I’m not sure... if you feel this... and that’s why...” She shivers, looking away for a moment before returning her eyes to me. “Just... thank you. For getting us away from the soldiers, and for leading us through the tunnels.”
I study her for a long moment, this gods-blessed who has caused me so much trouble, before I dip my head. “You’re welcome, Wren.”
Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth for a long moment before she exhales. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Didn’t you already?” I tease, unable to help myself.
Her cheeks flush. “Yes, but . . .”
She looks so discomforted that I instantly feel bad for teasing her. When did I start caring about this gods-blessed’s feelings?
“Go ahead, it’s fine.”
She licks her lips. “Are you... are you still hunting me?”
That’s the question of the day, isn’t it?
When I woke up this morning, I knew who I was. What my purpose was. Granted, I had failed at my task, but I was still a Hunter. Even the king’s threat to destroy my bond with Mist hadn’t changed that.
But this evening’s events have altered everything.
“I don’t even know if I’m still a Hunter,” I tell her honestly.
I broke my vows in helping her escape. Where does that leave me? The king won’t ignore my involvement in this. Even if he didn’t already hate me, he would never let a betrayal like this go unpunished. He has an image to uphold, after all.
“Oh,” she whispers.
“I meant what I said earlier, Wren. I’ll get you out of Rosebridge.” I will not let the king get his bloody hands on her, nor will I let her die.
Those violet eyes sweep over mine, searching for... something. “Why?” she asks after several minutes have passed.
The question feels incredibly layered.
Why are you helping me?
Why are you still here?
Why are you doing this?
I rub my hand over my chest, where that unceasing tug feels as incessant as earlier. “I just... have to.”
I don’t understand why I feel this way, nor do I have any true answers for her. What I do know, and what I’m as certain of as my own name, is that I’d sooner rip my beating heart from my chest than watch Wren die.
And that fucking frightens me almost as much as the intense pull I feel towards her. What am I supposed to do with these feelings?
“I see,” Wren murmurs, and I think that maybe, she does.
For the longest moment, we stare at each other. Thisthingbetween us is pulsing and tangible, as if it’s in the room with us. It feels like an eternity passes before one of the twins huffs quietly in her sleep.
