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He didn’t click, he didn’t move. He only stood, that shroud continuing to shutter under his breath before he grabbed my hand, that shroud looking toward my palm, and then to the charred bureau.
“Boy?” My voice shook as his hand tightened around mine and he practically pulled me out of my room.
The hallways were dark and cold, it was late enough that even the sconces lighting the corridors had burned down to nothing, leaving ebony shadows of low flickering flame that sent more ominous indigo shadows over gray stone and turned every nook and cranny into watching eyes and stretching fingers.
My stockinged feet slid on the floor, the smooth wood transitioning to cold stone as he began to run.
“Where are we going?” I hissed. It was late enough that there was no one in the corridors that I could tell, but that didn’t mean I wanted someone to come running.
“What is it?” I didn’t know why I was asking so many questions. He didn’t even click in response or recognition as he picked up his pace, his grip tightening as I stumbled.
One hall after another whipped by as he ran and I stumbled, unable to find my footing on slick socks against slicker stone. My heart beat wildly against my chest, my confusion morphing into a panic that was trying to erupt out of me. Tingles of fire that were running over every inch of my skin, the pops of heat sparking the same way it had the night before.
Stumbling, I looked at my free hand, half expecting it to be bright with that same light; but there was nothing but calluses and dirt smudges that looked even dirtier in the dark.
Through the panic, it took me a moment to realize where he was taking me. It wasn’t the training hall, or the throne room, or even my family's room. It was the one place I wasn’t supposed to be, the one place I wouldn’t even risk going to.
The Red Wing.
On the far side of the castle were the stone walls that extended into Turin, the barracks where all Requisites and Catalysts in training were housed. This part of the Runturin was the original part of the castle before the Black War and the fortress had been built. The long halls extended into the city in one long stone finger that wrapped nearly to the large stone gates at the other side of the city. Long ago, I had tried to investigate these halls, or find my way into the training paddock, but even the Boy had taken me back. It was the one time he stopped me from going anywhere, he had been firm enough I had never tried to adventure in after that.
But now, he was the one leading me in.
“Why–?” I stopped my questions in their tracks. It wasn’t like I would get an answer anyway.
His black cape fluttered as we raced around another corner only to stop in place, leaving me to run into his back.
“What–?” The question was extinguished in a gasp thanks to the supple leather of his glove wrapping around my mouth, his body a firm weight against mine as he pinned me against cold stone. Every inch of him pressed against me, his hand over my mouth as a soft ‘shhh’ whispered through the shroud. The shroud that was closer than it had ever been.
Closer than he had ever been.
Every inch of him was a drawn line against me, his warmth radiating everywhere, even through the leather. The air suddenly felt too hot, and there definitely wasn’t enough of it. My heart beat loudly in my chest as he held himself against me, his head turning slightly toward a sound I could barely hear above the thunder of my heart in my ears.
“Shhhhh…” he said again, the shroud fluttering at the soft sound, the fabric so close it rippled against my cheek as footsteps and voices echoed from somewhere in the distance.
The footsteps moved closer, the murmur of voices rising into something loud and angry. I had hidden from courtiers and lords for years, mostly to gain gossip, but that was never dangerous. That would only end in a frown and me running back to my rooms in fits of laughter.
This did not feel like that.
This felt dangerous, and the way he was holding me made it only more so. He was scared, and that was enough to suck the thrill of adventure right out of me.
“I heard they only knew he was there afterwards, left a letter for the queen,” one of the men was saying, his voice a low whisper that echoed ominously down the hall. “The bastard snuck in.”
“The fucking bloodsuckers,” the second voice was a harsh hiss compared to the first and the Boy stiffened against me, his breathing picking up in something I could only explain as fury. “I would have taken his head off right there. Who the fuck cares about the wedding. We need to end the lot of them. They shouldn’t be allowed to exist.”
“Well, you heard Queen Dalyah last week. It’s up to us to end them all.”
“At least Batian agrees with her. I’m done with the weakness in Okivo, once Batian becomes Ramal everything is going to change.” They both laughed at that, but the sound was harsh and ominous and sent more of those sparks of heat rippling over my bones in a way that was almost painful. I shuddered, the Boy's weight against mine increasing.
“I can hardly wait, then the real fun begins. I know who I’m going to start with.” They both laughed again, the Boy stiffening even more against me.
He was pressed so tightly against me I could feel every muscle in his chest tighten, feel the sharpness of his breath as it pushed through the shroud, the fabric soft against my face as the scent of pine drifted off him.
“I’m done waiting. She keeps promising the end. It’s time we act.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but I had a feeling the Boy did. His breathing was so sharp, his muscles so tight, it was making everything in me tighten in panic.
The voices faded, his body relaxing against mine as the last of their conversation faded into nothing, my focus pulled back to him as his did to mine. His hand still covered my mouth, his ragged breathing rattling against my own chest as we stood there, absolutely plastered to one another.
