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The man turned around, searching for someone in the crowd before pulling the hood of his coat from his head. She met his gaze from across the room, taking him in: his almond skin, the long shaggy hair that fell in loose waves over his russet eyes.
Her heart lodged in her throat, making it hard to breathe, listen, or focus on anything else. She jumped from her seat, instantly forgetting the Shadow God and his claim on her future. All she could focus on was him, as he towered over the rest of the bar.
Gavin Luna was not a bastard she would soon forget. She would recognize him anywhere. The way his eyes lit up when he found her amongst these people, like he had found a prize he would collect. The mark on the sharp edge of his jaw, where her blade had nicked him and the cut was still visible under the shadow of a day’s old beard.
She would never admit out loud that occasionally she wondered how his whiskers would burn her most sensitive skin if he rubbed them against her in ways she was not allowed to dream of.
He was hers, and she was his. And if the damn paper she held inside her pocket had anything to say, he was here to bring her back home.
2
VIOLET
Screams erupted around the tavern as Violet’s magic poured from her every pore in a billowing wave that pushed the table against the nearest wooden column. The rooftop thundered with the impact, and it rained dust and debris over the fleeing patrons.
“Violet!” Gavin’s voice thundered over the commotion, but she was already halfway down the narrow corridor toward the back door. Her rasping breaths drowned out the creaking of the worn floors under her pounding feet. She pushed past the heavy door and met a wall of frigid air.
Snow piled over wooden crates and baskets of waste. It reeked of piss even in the storm, and only the magic swirling around her limbs warmed her skin against the bite of the cold.
The sun had taken refuge behind the shingle rooftops long ago, and gusts of wind blew the snow sideways, clouding her already limited vision.
Had Gavin come alone, or were there more soldiers waiting to ambush her behind every crate she stole past? Violet tightened her grip around her knife’s handle, her heart thundering as she looked around, expecting someone to jump out of a dark corner. The shadows extended from every direction, closing in on her.
Inches of fresh snow hid her footprints, and snowflakes stuck to her wool coat and the tight curls of her hair. The end of the alley spilled into the center of town. The establishments that lined the path glowed in orange tones while plumes of smoke billowed out of their uneven iron-pipe chimneys.
Before she could step out into the street, a black shape blocked her path, silhouetted against the snow-brightened night sky. She attacked without preamble, though her movements were reluctant at best as she avoided truly hurting him. She aimed low, not to kill him, but only to debilitate him enough so she could escape. The shadowed figure dodged the initial slash of her blade, as if it were anticipating her moves.
Violet swiped across again. She was blinded by the storm, and the spicy scent of his magic flooded her senses. Whatever spell he was casting pushed her back like a warm bubble that pricked her skin. She slid over the fresh snow that had accumulated on the ground and fell too fast to react. Her own blade slid into her like her body was butter, and her scream pierced the air and echoed down the cramped alley.
Time froze as red hot pain extended from the side of her hip and warm blood trickled down her leg. The claws of the surrounding chill froze her movements. Violet hissed and pulled out the knife with a loud squelch.
“Dammit, Violet!” Gavin leaned forward, all tanned skin and messy brown hair that fell over the angles of his face. His agility should be forbidden in this cold, and yet he moved as if he were unhindered by his heavy coat and the freezing weather. He reached for her with steady hands, but she kicked him away with both legs, ignoring the sharp bite of her wound.
Gavin grabbed her leg before it hit his ribs, though the force of the impact vibrated up his arm, and the side of his body collided with the building next to him. Still, he didn’t let go of her. “Stop. You’re hurt.”
“I should have killed you!” she shouted, and his gloved hand tightened around her ankle. His grip was rough enough that it distracted her from the wound in her hip.
“You tried to kill me before.” His lips rolled back, showing straight white teeth, and anger flared in his eyes.
It wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t wanted him dead that day just like she didn’t tonight, but she wouldn’t correct him on the matter. When she’d thrown her knife at his commander, Gavin had jumped into the crossfire in a foolish display of bravery. She swallowed the knot in her throat as she studied the ragged cut on his jaw, visible even in the gray light of the stormy night.
“Let go of me.” Violet kicked again, but the adrenaline running through her body was dwindling, and the sharp pain up her hip and lower back was becoming unbearable. She stiffened in her spot. “Where are the rest of the lackeys?”
“Who?”
“Your assembly. I presume they joined you to hunt me down?”
She blinked rapidly to clear her vision as the ground spun around her. The mixture of alcohol, pain, and magic use had depleted her. Her limbs sank deeper into the snow, and frozen water soaked the back of her clothes. Gavin sat back, giving her some space. Perhaps he sensed that she’d lost the energy to fight him.
“It’s just me. I need to know how bad your wound is.” He raised both hands, as if she was a wounded animal ready to bite. From this close, every detail of his face was visible: his bushy brows, and his straight nose. He attempted to lift the side of her coat to examine her wound, but it stuck to her, wet with blood. Violet gasped as a wave of pain rushed through her, making her body run cold and hot.
“Stop.” She clung onto his shoulder, her fingers dug like claws into the fabric of his coat. “I don’t need your help.”
Their breaths mingled, and they stared at each other while snowflakes peppered them in white. When had they moved so close to one another? He smelled of freshly picked herbs and the ocean. This was the first time she had noticed it.
Violet had known that Gavin was her match days before their wedding, but even then, he’d not been a stranger. She’d never admit it, but reading his name in her letter had sent her into a panicked frenzy that felt remarkably like exhilaration. A numbing, tingling sensation that extended to the very ends of her fingertips—a feeling of pure want.
Gavin was the healer of the Valdor Assembly, led by Julius Coventry, not her old commander. But hers and his had worked together for years. Watching him from afar had long since given her a foolish sense of safety. He had shown no interest in her, and she maintained a distance with men she felt drawn to so she wouldn’t form any attachments.
