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When no one came, she knocked again. Louder this time.
I hate you, Gideon Sharpe. I hate you so much, it hurts. And if you don’t open this door, I’ll go on hating you forever …
There was still no answer.
She banged on the wood. Pounding and pounding until her hands hurt. Trying to pound away the image of his scorched corpse stuck behind her eyelids.
Rune was going to be sick.
When it became clear no one was coming, she collapsed against the door, pressing her forehead to the wood, wondering where this tempest of emotions had come from. A whirlwind of sadness and longing and something else. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Turning her back to the door, she sank to the ground.
Drawing her knees to her chest, she remembered him stepping into the black flames that had come to devour her. While everyone else ran away, he had run toward her.
A sob surged up her throat.
Rune felt people walking past, trying not to stare at the silly little aristo weeping on the ground in the wrong part of town. Rune didn’t care. A tempest was crashing through her, threatening to shatter her apart, and it was everything she could do to hold herself together.
As she wept on his doorstep, a concerned passerby approached. Through her tears, Rune saw their blurred boots.
Leave me alone,she thought, pulling her knees tighter to her chest.
“Rune?”
She glanced up to find a young man in a Blood Guard uniform. His red wool jacket was missing, and blood stained the collared white shirt he wore. A gash in his forehead had been recently stitched, and there was a vicious bruise on his cheek.
The breath froze in her lungs.
Rune pushed herself to her feet.
“What are you doing here?” said Gideon, staring at her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out.
At the sight of him,alive, Rune burst into tears all over again. She tried to wipe them away. Tried to catch her breath between great heaving gasps. But it was impossible.
“Hey.Hey.It’s all right …” He was suddenly right in front of her, his hands solid and warm on her shoulders. “Everything is all right.”
“I thought you were dead!” she managed between sobs.
She reached for his shirt, clenching it in her fists, and pressed her forehead into the hollow of his throat as she trembled all over.
His hands found her waist, holding her lightly. “And that …upsets you this much? The thought of me dead?”
She pulled back, staring at him. Was he joking? His expression was unreadable.
“Gideon, the thought of you inside that building …it felt like being held underwater.” She lowered her gaze to the pulse at the base of his throat. “Like being starved of air.”
His hand touched her chin, bringing her eyes back to his. Studying her for a long time.
“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
The reflection in his eyes portrayed a girl whose face was splotchy from crying, her hair a wild tangle from riding so hard. She was a mess. Still dressed in nothing but riding leathers. Not at all the girl she went to great pains to portray.
Alarmed, she drew back against the door behind her. “Merciful Ancients, I look frightful. I should get home …” Before anyone else saw her, and her reputation was damaged further.
Rune moved to step around him.
Gideon held out his hand. She walked into it, halting. Keeping his palm pressed to her stomach, he urged her gently back against the door. She glanced up and found him staring at her like she was out of her mind. “You have never been more beautiful than this moment.”
The words made her pulse kick.What?
