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They looked terribly similar to Cas’s own eyes—albeit considerably more dead.
She tried to tell herself how ridiculous she was being. She had just fought off two undead monsters, and now she was letting a storm trigger her? Letting it steal her breath? Letting it tie its weights to her hands and feet and hold her in place this way? But her anxiety was like that, unfortunately. It didn’t always make sense, even to her, but that didn’t make it any less real.
“No, but we still don’t know the extent of your, ah…” Zev searched for a word, and with a slightly drunken grin he decided on: “Weirdness.”
“Please bite me, asshole.” “Save that line for your target; he might like it.” “I’m pretty sure I can come up with at least a few lines that are better than that.” “I would love to hear them.”
“I just noticed that that’s a fine-looking sword over there.” He looked confused for a fraction of a moment, and then a corner of his mouth lifted again. “Not the finest one I own.”
“Why does she act as if we’ve kept her locked in our house for the past year? She’s been to a marketplace before.” “I think she’s genuinely just enjoying herself. It’s a nice day, a nice walk, and some people are just naturally…happy.” “How strange,”
But his tragic backstory did not excuse the fact that he was a complete and utter bastard.
“You look beautiful from this angle.” He knelt and cupped her cheek for a moment before grabbing a fistful of her hair and jerking her face up to look at him. “And you still look like a bastard from my angle.” Her smile was more of a baring of teeth.
“You think very highly of yourself, don’t you?” “I do. And I exceed those high standards time and time again.”
Perhaps this was simply how the world was, no matter what? An endless trading of places between the oppressors and the oppressed? The same song on repeat, with continuously rewritten lyrics…
“And what were you going to do? Use that to butter them to death?” “I’m going to use it to poke out your eyes if you don’t stop talking to me.”
Her lip curled in annoyance. Not only had he shown up here and insisted on barging into her room, but he had also decided to look even better than usual while he did it. The audacity. “I take it you’re still upset with me for some reason,” he said,
“The last person who assumed that I was too soft to survive is dead now.” “Is that a threat?” “It absolutely is.” “Well, I’ll be sure to sleep with one eye open, then.” “I hate you. So much.” “Fantastic.” He yawned.
“It’s hardly a sign of weakness to be able to keep going in spite of the weight of everything you just told me.” He got to his feet. “You should get some sleep. But I’ll be in the tent at the bottom of that hill over there, if you need me.”
You’re a rather…captivating combination of fearless and faint-hearted.”
“Come here,” he said. She hesitated. “I’m not going to bite you.” A corner of his mouth hitched. “Not unless you want me to.” Her eyes narrowed. His laughter was soft and sleepy. “It was a joke.” “I know that.” She hesitated a moment more. Then, perhaps against her better judgement, she scooted closer to him, and she let him wrap his arm around her and pull her against his chest. “Doesn’t that hurt?” she asked. “I’m fine.” He sounded like he was losing his battle to stay awake. “Just go to sleep,” he added, yawning again. “You’re safe here.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was a rasp. “No. You probably shouldn’t have.” Her words were just as hoarse as his had been. “But maybe you should do it again.”
“If I don’t see you before I leave tomorrow,” he said, “then until I get back, just…be safe.” She only nodded again. She didn’t trust herself to speak. The concern in his tone had caused a strange sensation in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what it was; she couldn’t—wouldn’t—put a name to that fluttering feeling. It might not even be worth naming. It might be gone before the morning. Gods, she hoped it would be gone. Because somehow it felt more dangerous than any of the monsters they’d faced together thus far.
“I expected you sooner, Captain,” she informed him. He flashed her a crooked grin. “Sorry I’m late.” “We have a standing appointment, if you’ll recall.” “I haven’t forgotten.” He hardly took his eyes off her as he dismounted, even as he handed Caden his reins and said, “See to my horse.”
“Focus, Captain.” “Yes ma’am.”
He saw it anyway. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be gentle.” Her eyes narrowed. “Be as rough as you want.”
“I’m absolutely terrified,” he repeated as he reached and pushed aside a strand of her hair that had plastered itself to her forehead. Then he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her closer. “And yet, the thought of missing my chance to hold you like this is somehow more terrifying.”
“I do.” He sat down beside her. Hesitated. And then he quietly added, “Maybe because I sometimes feel like I’ve known you for a very long time.” She stared at him, heart thudding clumsily in her chest, wondering if she should tell him about all of the times she had thought that exact thing. “Sorry,” he said. “Did that sound strange?” She only managed to shake her head and say, “No. No, I feel that way too.”
“Further proving my point that you tend to run toward dangerous things.” “Are you really suggesting that you’re dangerous to me? Because I’m not sure I believe that.” “I am incredibly dangerous, you silly woman.” “You’re grumpy and arrogant, and occasionally broody, and your magic is terrible—” “So flattering.” “—but the dark and dangerous thing is actually an act, I’m beginning to think.” “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not an act. I’m all dark and dangerous, all the way through. My heart is actually just a barely-functioning blob of blackness.”
