Brooke

Before us, the valley slopes down to a grass clearing woven through by a line of trees that follow a dry creek bed.



My eyes wander to the largest tree.



The first time with Perry was there.



That night comes back to me with perfect clarity, and my face warms as I remember how he looked and how I felt. How we were both trembling and trying not to laugh in our fumbling, breathless eagerness.



Then my memories sink deeper, and I am with Liv earlier that night. She’d pulled me behind the cookhouse after supper.



“I love him,” she said. “I’m ready. Roar and I are ready.”



That was the moment I decided Perry and I were ready too.



“Brooke, you two don’t have to just because we are,” Liv said.



“I love him too,” I told her.



Liv just stared at me, and I remember thinking, She knows. She knows Perry doesn’t love me. She would scent it, as a Scire. Know it, as his sister.



It was the kind of thought that flew like a sparrow through my mind. There and gone. I didn’t want to trap it and examine it then. Perry and I were happy. We had fun together. And I wanted to believe that fun would lead to better things. Deeper feelings between us.



So I hoped.



It’s strange now to think the four of us lost our virginity on the same night. It’s the sort of thing that would reinforce the Dwellers’ view of us as savages, if they knew. But I wouldn’t have had the courage any other way. I knew Perry would never hurt me. Even if he didn’t love me the way I loved him, he cared for me.



And I wanted to keep us all together, our paths heading in the same direction. My world was perfect when I was with Roar, Liv, and Perry. All I ever wanted was for us to stay the way we were.



“I’m sorry about what happened.”



Hyde’s voice pulls me from my memories, thankfully. I’m doing a rotten job at moving forward.



“With Liv,” he elaborates. He turns toward me slightly. His legs seem so much longer than mine. Like they go on forever. “I’m sorry for your loss.”



I guess I was wrong about no one caring how I feel about Liv. “Thanks . . . It feels like I lost her a long time ago, though.”



“When she left for Rim?”



“Yeah.” In a way, I’ve been grieving for Liv since she left to marry Sable, the northern Blood Lord she was betrothed to. The day she walked out of the Tide compound, I knew I’d probably never see her again. The difference is that now I’m sure of it.



A lump rises in my throat. I shouldn’t say anything more. But the way Hyde is watching me, like he really wants to know, to listen to me, makes me feel safe.



“We did everything together. Me and Perry and Roar and Liv. The cave? We used to sneak out of the compound and go there, the four of us. Just to get away from the tribe and be alone.”



“I heard that,” Hyde says.



I stare at him, questions flitting through my mind. What exactly did he hear? From who?



“Reef mentioned something about it once,” he rushes to say.



It’s a poor cover-up. Reef is the last person in the world who would discuss something so trivial. Hyde just doesn’t want me to feel gossiped about, but I don’t really care. People gossip. I’m guilty of it too. But unlike Hyde, I never pass up a good teasing opportunity when I see one.



“Reef was telling stories about the adventures Liv, Perry, Roar, and I had in the cave?”



“Maybe it was Gren or Hayden.”



“Or Twig or Straggler?”



“Er . . . yeah.” Hyde grins sheepishly, knowing I’ve caught him. “One of those.”



He has a softer-looking face than Perry, I notice. His nose and jaw are more sweeping than starkly cut. Kindness rests easily in his eyes.



“It was a long time ago,” I say lightly. Only six months, actually, but I don’t want to look like I’m stuck in the past. “We used to think it was the greatest place. Well, Roar, Liv, and I did. Perry never liked it much. But Liv and I . . . we felt like it was a whole new world that we’d discovered. We used to see it as someplace magical.” I laugh a little, picturing the dark hovel we just left behind. “I can’t believe we used to think that.”



Hyde scratches the scruff on his chin. “I can.”



“You can believe it?”



He lifts his shoulders. “Sure.”



“No, you can’t.”



Hyde laughs. “I really can. Isn’t that what magic is? Something you see when you shouldn’t?”



“If that’s your definition of magic, then it’s everywhere.” I wave at the sky, which shouldn’t be the way it is either. “Even up there.”



Hyde looks up, his expression turning pensive as he considers the Aether.



“You’re kidding, right?” I say, watching him. “You can’t really think there’s magic in the Aether?” I just see destruction.



“What if it’s not what you see, but how you see it? What if the magic is in your perspective?” He gestures to the plateau that spreads in front of us. “What if real magic is about having the right outlook? The right view on life?”



I feel like he’s just become someone different before my eyes. Someone poetic. Someone intriguing. All I can do is stare at him.



After a moment, he looks away.



“Why did you do that?” I ask.



“Do what?”



“Turn away from me.”



“I was regretting what I said.”



“Why?” What he just said was beautiful. I can’t believe he regrets it. “What do you have to lose if you say what you want to say?”



Hyde is suddenly fascinated with pulling a bit of leather from the frame of his quiver.



“Hyde?” I prompt.



“I don’t know how to act around you sometimes,” he says, winding the leather around his finger.



“Sometimes?”



“Alone,” he says. “When we’re alone.”



“I intimidate you?”



He lifts his head. “Completely.” His eyes hold steady on my face. “I don’t want to ruin my chance to know you, Brooke. That’s why. I don’t want to ruin it by saying the wrong things.”



My stomach does a somersault.



Up until this second everything felt normal. We were just two sentries, passing the time with conversation. But now he is no longer just Hyde. He is Hyde, who says he wants to know me, which feels so much more profound than to get to know me. Hyde, who asks me how I’m doing without Liv and talks about magic like it’s in your eyes, not in the world.



I search for it now. I search for magic in his blue eyes.



I don’t see it, but what I do see is just as surprising.



There is hope in Hyde’s eyes, and it’s real and honest and so different from the physical hunger I’m accustomed to seeing in the gazes of men.



I lick my lips, choosing my next words with care. “You do know me, Hyde.”



I am blatantly fishing for more.



No. I’m not fishing. He is on the line, and I’m reeling him in.



“True.” Hyde blinks, his smile wobbling. “I meant know you better.”



It’s the exact answer I expected. Exactly what I wanted to hear.



“You haven’t lost your chance.” I lean closer to him. “How can you lose a chance if you haven’t even taken it?”



He holds perfectly still for a long moment. Then he inclines his head a little to the side, bringing his face closer to mine. His blue eyes drop to my mouth. We’re close enough that I can see every fine hair on his jaw. This is my chance to retreat, but I don’t.



A delicious spell has fallen over me. I want this. And I’m moving on. This is what it means to move on.



I feel Hyde’s hand cradle the back of my head, but I need no encouragement to draw closer.



Our lips meet and hold, both of us stiff with awkwardness for an instant. Then Hyde’s lips part and his tongue slides, velvet soft, against mine.



Desire seeps through my limbs like warm honey as we find our way, shifting closer.



He is patient and gentle at first, but then he becomes playful. He nibbles at my bottom lip, and I can tell he’s smiling. He’s a happy kisser. A girl could fall in love with that, I think.



Heat curls in my veins, and I reach for him, wanting more.



His shoulders feel different, not quite rounded enough with muscle, but I ignore that.



His hand is on my back, the pressure too light. I ignore that too.



I focus on the movement of his mouth over mine, which is full of affection and care. He kisses like a poet. Like he’s writing poems on my lips.



But it lacks something. A confidence. A ferocity I’m familiar with.



Ignore, Brooke.



Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.



It’s too late. I realize I’m getting in my head too much, because I hear the leaves rustle with a breeze. Hyde senses my hesitation, and his hand stills on my cheek. I feel the softest tremble of his fingers on my skin. I don’t want it to tremble. I am past tremble.



Perry knew I liked him to take control. He knew what I wanted. By now he would have—



I suck in a breath, feeling like an arrow has sliced right through my heart.



I jerk back. Hyde’s eyes fly open. We both freeze for an endless instant. Then I jump to my feet.



My legs shake beneath me as shame and lust play tug-of-war in my body. How could I think about Perry just then? What is wrong with me?



Hyde scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Brooke. Was that too much?”



I’m so confused. I don’t know what just happened. No. I do know. Kissing Hyde wasn’t too much. It wasn’t too little, either. It just wasn’t kissing Perry.



“No. It was great.” My voice comes out scratchy, like I’m going to cry.



Hyde rises to his feet. For a moment I think he’s going to leave, but he doesn’t. He steps closer. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I really like you. I know about you and Perry, and maybe this was too soon. Maybe it’s not the right time, with all that’s happening. But I don’t care. I’ll wait for you.”



“I like you too, Hyde.” It’s the truth. He is thoughtful and romantic, and I should appreciate him for who he is, instead of just seeing him as not like Perry. “It’s just that . . .” I bite my lip, not wanting to explain to him that he is amazing but I am the one who is a mess. “You shouldn’t wait for me.”



I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on, but I do know that having him wait for me isn’t going to help.



Hyde’s gaze darts past me suddenly. He lets out a curse, his posture tensing. In an instant he is all warrior again. A sentry who has just spotted danger.



Our waiting is over.



4



In the midst of a scrubby stand of birches roughly a mile away, I see what has alarmed him.



Three people. Too far for me to see their faces. Close enough that I can tell they are all men. We watch them for a few moments, taking in the practiced stealth of their movements. How their progress is careful and furtive, and runs parallel to the well-trod trail instead of on it. There is no doubt in my mind—they are attempting to stay concealed. The men in the distance aren’t weary travelers seeking asylum. They are hostile.