I cover the rough ground inside our shelter with as many leaves as I can find, using only the ones from trees I recognize to be safe. Some leaves in the wild sting to the touch. Others give off an aroma that attracts bugs. And some release their pigment and stain the skin. Since none of that is ideal, I stick to what I know.
Even after that, the ground is still so very hard.
“Maybe we should lie atop the blankets,” I suggest.
“The night will grow too cold.” Soren pauses. “We could share. Put one blanket below both of us and the other on top.”
“All right.”
We eat a dinner of dried meat and berries outside before turning in for the night. Our lean-to is cozy. There’s barely enough room for us to lie side by side. It’s so much more practical for us to share the blankets than for us to each have our own.
We squish our packs and axes down by our feet, and then Soren pulls the top blanket over the two of us. I’m scooted over just far enough that there’s a small gap between Soren’s body and mine.
Even then, I’m far too aware of his body. His hand is only an inch from mine. He smells of pine and freshly churned dirt, which I wouldn’t have thought would be intoxicating, but it is. I sense the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, hear him shift as he tries to get more comfortable.
Despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements and Soren’s presence, I drift off eventually, but sometime in the night, I wake, shivering. The elevation has brought with it a distinct chill.
But at my side, I can feel a wave of heat radiating off Soren. He’s like a fire. How is that even possible?
I try not to wake him as I scoot over, pressing my front to his back. Heat curls into my arms, and I sigh at the warmth.
But I think I woke Soren.
A slight hitch in his deep breaths is the only outward sign.
He doesn’t say anything, so I ask, “Is this okay? Sorry to wake you, I’m just so cold.”
He rolls toward me, and I back up against that rock wall, giving him room to move.
“Come here,” he says when he’s facing toward me. I’m unsure at first, but the promise of warmth is too much to resist.
“Turn around,” he says, and I realize why as soon as I do. We fit so snugly with my back pressed to his front. His legs curve against mine. One of his arms rests under my head, giving me a pillow, while the other wraps around my front to press me even closer to him.
“Better?” he asks.
“Mmm,” I say. I’m already starting to drift off, I’m so comfortable.
There’s the lightest pressure on the back of my neck. His lips, I think. But I’m already so far gone, I can’t be sure.
* * *
AN OBNOXIOUS LIGHT DARTS across my eyelids. I open them only to be momentarily blinded. A small gap in the branches allows a beam of sun right into my face. I adjust my neck, trying to get my head at a better angle, when I realize what’s in front of me.
Soren.
I must have rolled over in the night. His face is inches from mine, our breath mingling. His lashes are draped over his eyes, his face completely relaxed in sleep.
I realize just how much I like that face, once I’m free to look at it so openly. The scars from warrior training suit him, giving him a roguish look. He has a heavy brow, a smooth forehead with brown locks falling across it, a nose that might be a bit too small for his face, but it’s hardly noticeable with such perfect-looking lips.
I’m struck with the desire to trace them with a finger, which surprises me. Must be because it’s morning—a sleep-addled brain clouds judgment.
I pat Soren on the shoulder instead. “Wake up. We should get moving.”
He doesn’t move, so I hit him a bit harder.
He jolts awake, sitting up too fast. His head smacks against one of the branches overhead.
“Ow,” he says, rubbing his head.
“Sorry. You were out like a rock.”
“I … had a hard time falling back asleep.”
That would be my fault. “I shouldn’t have woken you last night.”
“It’s fine. Now we’ll know how to start out tonight. Then you won’t have to wake me.”
My cheeks warm at the prospect. I shove aside the makeshift door of our lean-to and stretch in the morning air. It is still cool, but the morning is already alive with movement. Lizards up in the trees snort. Birds in the distance call to one another. Against the rock wall, I barely catch sight of camouflaged moths, the only giveaway being the outline of their gray wings overlapping the slate. It’s a beautiful day already, and it’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking there is no real threat on the mountain.
After we eat breakfast and pack everything back up, we resume our climb, this time with sore muscles.
It’s impossible to tell how much longer it will take to reach the peak. More and more trees cover the mountain the higher we climb. I can neither see the top nor the bottom.
The ground grows less rocky, more solid and stable, and the trees grow thicker. Animals that I’ve never seen before dangle from the trees by their knees. Unknown plants with bristly yellow leaves grow out of the ground. The wind carries scents from new trees that prefer the higher altitude.
When I first entered the wild, I remember being afraid of every unknown sound and creature. But here, everything is exciting, tinged with a sense of adventure. One that I’m happy to be taking with Soren.
He walks at my side, our strides perfectly matched. I catch sight of his hand swaying at his side. Before thinking twice about it, I reach out and grab it.
Soren looks up from his feet and fixes a boyish smile on me.
Blessedly, the rest of the day is mountain cat free. We climb as far as we dare before setting up camp once more. We find a good spot to build another lean-to, this time against a tree with a trunk so wide it might as well be a wall.
“Might rain tonight,” Soren comments as we finish. “Good thing we found a tree for extra shelter, but let’s lean some leafy branches across it just to be safe.”
The extra time we take turns out to be well worth it after we climb inside. While I can hear the light rain outside, not a drop reaches us.
Soren stretches out across the blanket while I situate the packs down at our feet. When I’m done, he holds open the top blanket—and his arm—for me to crawl inside.
I’m turned into him this time, my forehead pressed against his chest. His hand moves in circles across my back.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Soren says. “I’ve asked you this before, but I thought maybe now you might want to answer. Did someone close to you break your trust?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
Soren pulls me closer, his other hand never letting up on its soothing motion at my back. He’s quiet, letting me fill the space, should I choose.
I’m surprised to find that I’m ready to share my whole story with someone.
“There was—is—a boy back in my village. His name is Torrin.” There is something about talking, about saying his name aloud, that is so freeing. I tell Soren the whole story. I tell him about my misplaced trust. About my mother who betrayed me at the first opportunity. About how my father turned on me so quickly.
Soren’s cheek rests against the top of my head as he holds me against him, letting me finish.
“If I’ve seemed so single-minded in my desire to kill the god,” I say, “it is because I have so much to set right. I want to be with my family again, but I also need to reveal the wrongs done against me. I want to go back to Seravin and truly earn the respect of my fellow warriors by behaving as a leader should.”
I breathe deeply, relishing the feeling of sharing the burden of my story. Finally.
“Thank you for telling me,” Soren says. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.”
“I’m not. Not anymore. Not when I think of how the wild has changed me. I’m better for it.”
“I know what you mean. I think I’m better for my
own banishment, too. And better for having known you. I hope you know—I’m not like this boy-child, Torrin. I don’t—”
I lift my head up so I can see his face and press a finger to his lips. “I know you’re not.”
Instead of lifting my finger, I leave it there, letting it trace his lips. I don’t know if I feel brave because it’s dark or because Soren now knows everything and he’s not shying away from me.
There’s a shift in his body. His hand returns to my back, ghosting up and down my spine. The fort gets hot. But not uncomfortable. Though perhaps unbearable. In a good way.
And just as I realize I want him to, he kisses me.
My breath leaves me. I wasn’t prepared for the gentle pressure, for the sensation that shoots down to my toes. It’s more delicious than I could have imagined, the way his mouth moves against mine. Kissing is a bit wetter than I expected, but after a while, I don’t even notice. Soren smells like all the good things in the wild: the freshness of a morning after it has rained, newly cut branches, crushed pine needles. His thumb at my cheek strokes in time to his kisses.
As soon as I understand the right motions to make, I take control of the kiss, pressing my lips just a little more roughly over his, moving them faster.
His response is immediate. He matches my tempo without hesitating. His hand goes to the lowest part on my back to draw me closer. My hands are wedged against his chest, but I want to feel more of him, so I slide them up his neck, across his cheeks, into his hair.
Oh, I like having them in his hair. Not only are the strands so smooth, but I can better move my lips when I can keep his head just where I want it.
He surprises me when a soft wet pressure goes to the seam of my lips.
His tongue.
I’m unsure what he wants, but I open my mouth to him and—
Now there’s even more sensation as his tongue strokes against mine, and it’s so glorious. I’m drowning in him, yet I feel engulfed in flames at the same time.
Being wanted. Knowing that I am wanted is the most glorious feeling in the world.
And I do know he wants me. I feel it in his kisses. Feel it in his arms wrapped around me. And lower, where one of my legs is caught between his, where my stomach is pressed so tightly against him it would be impossible not to feel just how much he wants me.
He pulls away for a moment, his head flying upward so he can breathe. “Rasmira,” he chokes out. “I need a moment.”
And I realize then that unless I want things to go even further, I need to let him compose himself. I debate for a second. Do I want to go further?
Not yet, I decide.
I pull my lips away, try to detach myself from him, but he holds me in place.
“Don’t go,” he pleads, “just hold still a moment.”
I listen to his rapid breathing. Feel his heartbeat pounding against my own. He presses his forehead against mine, and I revel in the closeness. I desperately want to close that distance, but I wait, my body nearly shaking from wanting, my lips feeling swollen but eager for more.
He wraps his arms around me, tucks my head under his chin. “Sleep,” he says.
“Are you joking?”
He laughs. “We have another busy day tomorrow. Maybe we’ll even reach the mountaintop.”
“Sleeping is the last thing I want to do,” I whine.
“Good,” he says. “But I think it would be safer if I only kissed you during the daytime.”
“Safer? You mean easier.”
“Perhaps.”
“I thought you liked a challenge.”
“I have a feeling you’ll be challenging me a lot.”
I smile, even though he can’t see it. “Of course.”
He kisses me again.
* * *
I WAKE TO FIND Soren already watching me. His lips curve into a smile as soon as he sees I’m awake.
“Good morning,” he says.
It only takes a second for last night’s kisses to come back to me.
I go warm everywhere.
“Morning,” I say.
“How did you sleep?”
“Aside from the fact that I got less of it than I did yesterday, rather well.”
“Not me. I slept way better.”
He won’t stop looking at me. My eyes flit everywhere. Everywhere but at him. The discomfort is astounding after how nice last night was.
“Rasmira, look at me.”
I manage it.
“Do you regret what happened now that it’s daytime?” he asks.
“No,” I say hurriedly. “You just keep looking at me.”
“I’m staring. I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“What?”
He leans down and presses his lips to mine. “Now that I’ve kissed you, your lips are all I can think about.”
Despite our less-than-comfortable sleeping arrangements, it would be far too easy to stay in this lean-to with him all day.
“I think I have a solution for that,” I say.
“Let me guess, climbing?”
“You’re so smart.”
Today’s trip is less productive. Soren trips more than once because he’s looking at me instead of the ground, and I laugh at him.
Then there’s the fact that our climbing keeps getting interrupted with kisses.
I could blame Soren, but it’s not always him. I put a halt to our progress just as often by pushing him up against the nearest tree.
At one point, we stop to refill our canteens. Soren is bent over the stream while I take in the scenery below the mountain.
“I can see the villages from up here. There’s Seravin. And Restin is only a bit more north, right?”
“Yes.”
“So there it is. Then there’s Mallimer and the rest sprawling northward. And the wild! It goes on forever. Come look, Soren!”
“I may have overcome my fear of heights, but I don’t think I should see just how high up we are. I’ll settle for listening to you describe it.”
“The trees grow thicker more to the north. And—they’re greener. I wonder what we’d see on the other side of the mountain! Do you think the wild continues on in an endless expanse or would we see something new?”
“When we discover the otti bird to be only a myth, we’ll have all the time we want to explore it.”
My heart drops a moment. What if Soren is never allowed to go home? What if he is doomed to stay in the wild forever?
I won’t let that happen.
I pull Soren to me in a fierce hug. “You won’t be stuck out here alone. I will earn my place back as my father’s heir, and I will change things. I will find a way to bring you home.”
He returns the embrace, and we stand like that for a while, just holding each other.
But over his shoulder, I see a hint of movement. It blends in almost perfectly with the surrounding trees. If it weren’t for its open eyes staring fixedly at us.
I whisper, “Don’t move.”
My hands go to the sheath at Soren’s back. So very slowly, agonizingly slowly, I begin to slide the ax upward.
The mountain cat doesn’t blink as it watches Soren and me. I wonder if it’s the same one from before. Perhaps the goat got away and it followed our trail until it caught up with us?
Its haunches sway back and forth, steadying, readying to pounce. In a decisive move, I rip the ax the rest of the way from the sheath and sidestep Soren. I feel pressure on my back, but I ignore it. Because as soon as I decided to move, so, too, did the cat. It leaps forward and sprints the few yards to us, before leaping again, this time with the intent to pin me.
My mind works at an impossible speed. I should dodge the strike and go for one of the clawed legs, but sidestepping leaves Soren open. If only I had my ax, I could activate the spike and get the cat in the neck as it lands.
Instead, I shove Soren’s ax straight ahead of me and brace myself for impact. The two tips of Soren’s double blades pierce the cat’s chest, but only just. That thick sk
in holds against the force of its own pounce. Its back legs land on solid ground, but the front—
They go to my shoulders and dig in.
At first, I think my armor will hold, but there’s a chink sound, and then needle-sharp pain. The cat bends at the neck, trying to bring its gaping jaws closer, but I hold my arms steady, letting the weight of the cat dig deeper against the ax. My arms tremble from the force of it.
Out of the corner of my eye, a slice in the air, a blur of a blade.
My ax in Soren’s hands.
He embeds it deep in the cat’s back. Trapped with my blade beneath it and Soren’s above it, it can do nothing except extend its claws, digging them deeper into my shoulders.
I set my teeth, let a wisp of air snake through, as I hold back a scream.
Soren dislodges the ax, and the cat releases me, backs up so it can take us in, readying to strike again. Brown-black blood drips from its chest onto the ground.
Everything darkens all of a sudden. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a shape blocking part of the sun. Not a cloud, something nearer and swifter. I’m torn between not taking my eyes off the cat and seeing what the blur of movement is.
It’s growing closer. Growing bigger.
It’s coming right for us.
I can’t help it.
I look.
Blue and white, a mixture of cloud and sky. A perfect camouflage—just like everything else in the wild.
As if the otti bird needed the extra advantage.
Razor-sharp talons that match the azure of its underbelly stretch out, each one the size of an arm. They clamp firmly over the middle of the great mountain cat. The feline didn’t even hear it coming.
A mighty growl lets loose, but it’s nothing to the shrieking caw of the victorious bird. It takes off in flight, the great cat clutched in its talons. Wings flap against the ground, sending rocks tumbling over themselves. I waver, nearly knocked over from the wind gust. Soren reaches a hand out, whether to steady me or himself, I don’t know.
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