Unveiled (Fireblood 2) - Page 4

“Are we friends, now?” I look over my shoulder and smile coyly.

He nods once. “I’d like us to be.”

“I think I’d like that, also,” I say.

We’re far enough away that if there’s a struggle, no one will hear. I stop next to a wide pine and press my back to its rough bark. Xander moves toward me, then hesitates. I’m sure he’s never met a girl this forward. And that’s my plan. Unnerve him so he doesn’t see the bl

ade coming for his throat.

I clamp my eyes shut, trying to imagine him as a deer. There will be no going back to the camp if I don’t pull this off. For our own protection, Micha is ruthless. Complete your mission. No exceptions. If I don’t, I’ll be dead by morning. Either by Xander’s hand or the Rebels’ as Micha will order my death. Though, I can’t help but feel I might be spared. Even though Micha’s the rebel leader, I’ve had special treatment—like a child. But I don’t want to chance it.

I look up at the sky through the thick branches. “I don’t think you brought me here to star gaze,” I say.

He glances at the sky, then back to me. “I admit, I forgot my intensions.” He rocks on the heels of his feet. “I’m enjoying your company so much the stars are of little interest.”

“Then why won’t you come closer?” I ask him. “Are you shy, Xander?”

A brilliant smile breaks across his face. “I’m not shy,” he says matter-of-factly. “But you’re not something I’m not accustomed to.” He cocks his head, studying me. “I find myself bewitched by you.”

I open my mouth to respond, then close it. Heat creeps up the back of my neck. I shouldn’t be blushing, but in the camp, I’m just another Rebel. I hide my eyes, glancing down at my dress. Of course. It’s not me he’s bewitched by, but the idea of a refined, flirtatious girl, wearing a beautiful dress. I shake my head, then look at him.

“I’m sure a man of your station has the girls falling all over themselves.” I wedge my hands between me and the tree, gripping the bark. Then I arch my back, accentuating my curves.

He takes a step toward me. “There have been a couple,” he says, taking another step closer. “But none like you.”

He’s playing a game. The same way I am. But he’s in pursuit of something very different than me tonight. These lines may work on the simple girls of Karm, but not me. Satisfaction washes over me. I’ll look him right in the eyes at the last moment, showing him he didn’t fool me.

Then I wonder if I can use this to gain some information. I want to know why my mentor’s marked him—what he’s done so vile against the Rebels. Has he killed someone I know? Banished one of us to the Outside? But he seems so clueless. Although, so do I right now, and I know plenty.

“You say that to us all, I’m sure,” I say. Then before he can try to defend himself, I continue, “But I’m flattered. It’s not every day one of the king’s top knights gives me such a compliment.”

His eyebrows press together. “Why do you assume I rank so high?”

Dammit. I’m floundering trying to get information from him. I should end this now. “Why wouldn’t you?” I smile shyly, forcing a blush. “You obviously think for yourself. I can’t imagine too many others do the same.”

He chuckles. “No. They don’t.” He closes the gap between us, stopping just inches away from me. “But I’m just another knight, no high rank. Although, I’ll gladly take your praise over their acknowledgment any time.”

No high rank? I open my mouth, then snap it shut. I don’t know how to press for more information. Why does Micha want him dead?

His hand brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Do you . . .” He trails off, releasing an audible breath.

His hand lingers near my face, a current pulsing between our skin. He smells like earth and fire, and some masculine soap. I breathe him in, then push the breath out, gaining control of my senses.

“What?” I ask. “Do I what?”

“Do you ever think about going out there?” He jerks his head, indicating behind him. “Past the barrier.” He shakes his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “That’s a stupid question. I don’t know where my mind is.”

“No,” I say, dipping my face and finding his eyes. “It’s not. I wonder all the time . . . what’s out there.” I lower my voice at the end.

His lips tug into a grin. “Really?”

I nod. “I do. And what if things have changed—”

“Like if the earth has healed itself?” he interrupts.

“Exactly.” I can’t help but smile. “And we’ll never know because we’ll be stuffed away behind the barrier forever. Or, what if there’re others out there, and they have a cu . . .” I let my words fade.

“A cure,” he finishes. His eyes bore into mine, and I’m lost. He doesn’t talk like a knight. He talks like a Rebel.

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Fireblood Fantasy
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