Not a kiss stolen in the dark, or a priceless gift given without being asked. But that was what this alliance led up to. The boy her mother had warned her about.Īfter they’d slain all the other champions-her ex-best friend among them-it would only be the two of them left. The one everyone had declared her greatest rival. This was Alistair Lowe, she reminded herself. When he lay beside her and warmth like fire spread through her from her head to her toes.
Especially in a bed with little space between them, entirely in the dark.īut there was no misconstruing the way her stomach somersaulted when she felt the mattress shift as he sat down. She knew, after all the ways she’d flirted with him before, that any invitation could be misconstrued. “I think I owe you more than a night on the floor.” When it came to the tournament, none of that mattered. She had used every healing spellstone she had to drag him back to the living.īut Isobel couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. She had kissed a spellboard coated in his blood. “Haven’t we always been living in a fantasy?” he murmured.Īlistair had nearly sacrificed himself for her in the forest. It wasn’t good enough for Briony to just be champion-she had to be better than all of them. It’s just a fantasy.” The more she swelled on it, the more she realized it should’ve been no surprise that Briony had fallen victim to such notions. She squeezed his hand tight enough for him to wince. Because Isobel had never seen it on him, it took her several moments to recognize it. “If she is, it would be…we would be…” The ghost of an expression crossed his face. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “What if Briony’s right?” Alistair asked. She realized she’d never seen Alistair smile in a way that wasn’t meant to be a threat.
She almost thought she’d imagined it at first, but then she lifted her head and realized his eyes were open, watching her. “Seven letters,” she whispered to Alistair. Probably Finley and Elinor returning to finish her, too. Then she finally made out his heartbeat-faint but there-and far beyond, the sound of approaching footsteps. At first, all she heard was the noise of the forest crickets and owls. Clutching his hand, Isobel rested her cheek against his chest, listening for a pulse. She moved on to the next stone.įinally the wound closed, and his broken patella was mostly set, but she exhausted the stones and Alistair hadn’t opened his eyes.
She cast it once, twice, three times, until all it’s magick had depleted. Swallowing her dread, she pressed her hand to it and in her other, she squeezed a Healer’s Touch spellstone. “She gasped when she exposed the wound, his flesh split open and brimming with blood.
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