“What—why?” He scoffs and releases my hands, sitting back on the balls of his feet. He plants his hands on top of his thighs. “What have I done to you?”
I see my dagger just behind him on the forest floor. Before he can get another word in, I spring forward and tackle him, grabbing my dagger in the process. Then I hold it to his throat, my breath panting as I stare at him. There’s no fear or anger in his expression.
“If I’ve done something that this is my fate, then do it,” he says. “But at least tell me my sins first.”
I curse. What has this fool done? I have no answer for him.
His eyes trace my face, and I’m sick with regret that I’m about to permanently shut them. I pull the dagger away from his neck and raise it, my hand trembling. He licks his lips, readying himself for my attack, and I can’t stop staring at their perfect curve against his chin. I sink my blade into the earth just above his head, bringing my face down at the same time and pressing my lips to his.
For one shocked moment, he’s frozen—his lips firm against mine. Then they soften, matching my rhythm. He buries his hand in my hair, forcing our lips together hard.
He cups the back of my head and rolls on top of me, his kiss deepening as the weight of him presses me into the ground. I wrap my arms around him, feeling his strained muscles through the fabric of his uniform. Then he pulls his face away, his eyes locked on mine.
As I stare back at him, I know I never would’ve completed my mission. Damn. I hope that kiss was worth it.
“I think we need to talk,” he says.
I nod, my bun coming loose against the twigs. “Agreed.”
Chapter 3
We roam farther into the forest, away from the castle and in the opposite direction of the Rebel camp. The trees are thicker, and the moonlight splinters across the ground. As I walk—my arms hugging my waist—fear envelops my core. Uncertainty of my situation plagues me.
Xander slows his pace as he glances over at me. “I’ve shut down my communicator,” he says, showing me the small silver device, then he slides it into the vest of his uniform. “So we won’t be tracked.”
I nod. “You honestly don’t know anything about the Rebels?” I study his features, waiting to see his eyes shift—a muscle twitch. But he keeps his eyes trained on me, stoic.
“No.” He looks down at the ground then back at me. “How is it I’ve never been informed?” He kicks a rock with his boot. “Because I’ve just been knighted?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe. All members of the Force are aware of us, though. Destroying us is their . . . your priority.”
He slants his eyes at me. “As you can plainly see, it’s not mine. Though, you almost left me little choice.”
“Ha!” I halt walking and spin toward him. “You were as good as dead back there.”
He stops, too, facing me. “Yes, the ever-effective kiss your enemy to death tactic,” he says, a smile playing at his lips. “I have to admit, it’s my preferable way to die.”
My face heats. “You didn’t seem to mind the approach. You probably would’ve let me end you back there if I’d allowed you to continue.”
He laughs, then begins walking again, saying over his shoulder, “If I remember correctly, it was me who ended the kiss.”
I open my mouth to retort, but he continues. “But if my demise comes at your lips, you’re correct. I’d probably welcome it.”
My lips twitch as I try to keep from smiling. “And you call me mad.”
Finally we come to a clearing and I stop, convinced we’re far enough away in either direction. Xander’s life is in danger, and now I have to take precautions, too. When Xander’s not reported dead—if my disobedience hasn’t already been reported—Micha will search. I have to come up with a plan, but my mind won’t allow me to think of anything other than why they wanted him eliminated in the first place.
Xander leans against a tree, resting his hands on his hilt. “How many of you are there?”
I take a deep breath. “Some—not many.” I shake my head. “I’m not sure, but there used to be more of us before I was born. My mentor says the Force and the Rebels battled, and the Rebels lost.” I look down. “After that, they went into hiding, and the truth of that battle was buried. A perfect Karm wouldn’t be perfect if its people knew we existed. Ever.”
“So you stay hidden, waiting for . . . what?”
I look up into his face. He looks lost, like I’ve just revealed his life is a lie. Which, I guess I did. “For opportunities to strike. Finding weaknesses in the system.” I shrug.
“Why me?” he asks. “What could possibly come of . . .” He shakes his head.
“I don’t know.” I come up beside him. “My mentor wouldn’t tell me. But . . . but there has to be something. They have to have a reason.”