To Rune’s surprise, his gloved hand slid over hers, linking their fingers together and keeping her palm pressed to his heart. Their intertwined fingers filled Rune with a strange and terrible yearning. “Will you miss me, Crimson Moth?” She swallowed. “How can you ask me that?” “Is that a yes?” Normally, Rune could tell when he was plotting something. Tonight, he was impossible to read. “Where will you go?” He was a fool if he expected her to answer that. “Somewhere you’ll never find me.”
