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“Eat,” Renton ordered, handing her a piece of seared meat.
Under different circumstances, she wouldn’t have balked at an offering of food. Right now? She refused to accept anything from this hunter, his forced sympathy especially.
“You need to eat to regain your strength,” Renton said.
She brushed dirt from her pants. “I’m not hungry.”
His eyes darkened, sending a shiver down her body. There was no denying Renton had a presence that couldn’t be ignored. His stare had a way of making her feel exposed.
Knees tucked against her chest and arms wrapped around them, she didn’t bother looking up from the fire he’d made in the gaping hollow of a giant tree. Nor had she helped him ignite the chunks of wood he’d gathered, though the effects of the tingling creeping smoke had almost faded.
She wasn’t sure what she’d done to irk him. One minute, they’d reached a southern road clear of snow, the air warm enough to stop the chattering of her teeth and the trees shooting up to a star-scraping height, and the next, Renton grumbled about taking a rest. He’d been glancing back at her so frequently she wondered if her slow pace was what had caused his foul mood.
Whatever. She was too wrapped up in their surroundings to care. Nature had a way of stealing her breath. It was why she obsessed over maps and all their seemingly impossible features. Now she was catching much-desired glimpses of it, but it was hard to fully savor when she wasn’t sure where the hunter was taking her.
Tenah rubbed a fist into her eye, fighting back drowsiness. Shehadtried to sleep at the inn, but the instant she’d drifted off, the silver-eyed boy had made an appearance from wherever Ames had dug him up.
Murderer.
His accusation stuck like a poisonous barb in her skin. Had she hurt him? No, that wasn’t possible. She was not her father. She wasn’t capable of hurting anyone. The dark magic she’d spilled in the snowy field had her questioning herself though, planting a seed of uncertainty. Whatwasshe capable of?
Kicking the thought, she peeked out at the massive trees bathed in radiant sunlight.
“Creeping smoke should have worn off by now,” Renton said. “How are you feeling?”
“Not quite ready to incinerate you,” she admitted. “But close.”
He chuckled. “I look forward to it.”
A fluttering in her stomach had her scooting until she faced the hollow opening instead of him.
Since her episode in the snowy field, she’d glimpsed anomalies along their trek. Warbles of white light in her peripheral vision. Only, when she turned to examine them, they’d vanished into thin air like teasing mirages. It had to be a side effect of the infuriating throb deep in her skull.
She tensed as Renton sat down in the dirt next to her. One leg bent to support his arm, he rested against the tree trunk.
“Talk to me,” he murmured.
Tenah snorted, but it was hard to ignore the maddening warmth spreading in her chest. “About?”
“Anything. Let me know you’re here.”
Wincing, she gripped her pants tighter, tiny sparks of red snapping from her fingers without command. This sudden issue with control sent ripples of unease through her. When she glanced at Renton, expecting him to launch an attack, he hadn’t shifted from his concern for her.
“Let’s not pretend you care,” she muttered, but as they watched the bonfire dance, his proximity and burdened sigh unraveled her. “My father’s a madman, my guardian is dead, and I’m somehow stuck with you as what? A hostage? A prisoner?”
“Tell me about your guardian. Was that the Ashen?”
She caught his eyes shining in reflection as if he was lost in his own troubled memories. She didn’t like how that threw her off balance. “He’s…he was good. Honest. Kind. Reliable. Everything my family was not. He taught me how to read and write. Taught me how to astral project into the Void.” She paused, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt as if applying pressure to a pinch point. “Sometimes it felt like he needed us more than we needed him.”
Renton tipped his head back, and she regretted casting another look at him, ensnared by his features. The unholy length of his lashes, shades darker than his pale skin and hair. The strong lines of his nose and jaw. The creases between his brows as if he always wore a scowl. The soft contrast of his mouth…
Her cheeks heated, his sliver of a grin proof he’d caught her staring.
“Take a look at the sky,” he said, motioning to the faint scattering of stars about to be bled out by the eager sun.
She obeyed. Clearing her throat, she asked, “What am I looking for exactly?”
His shoulder pressed against hers as his forearm came to rest on her bent knee. Prickles of desire spread through her at the contact, making it difficult to focus.
