Page 42 of Between Smoke and Shadow
“Just Harrick,” I interrupt. “Tell me something aboutyou. Not your father.”
I return the dagger to the wall and scan the weapons until I find a collection of darts. They’re meant to be filled with poison or magic, but for now, they’re empty canisters.
“I’ve never had a friend before,” she says, watching me carefully. Her eyes lower to the darts in my hand as she continues. “I’ve never had much of anything.”
Her words send a pang through my chest. It feels like I’ve lodged a poisonous dart right between my lungs. As miserable as I’ve felt under the Architect’s thumb, I’ve never felt alone. I’ve never wanted for anything. I’ve had comfort and luxury, and most importantly, I’ve always had Tora.
“I will be your friend,” I say. A warmth spreads beneath my ribs as the words leave my mouth. I’m in dangerous territory, and for the first time, I wonder if Rune is manipulating me. If she’s playing doe-eyed innocent to get my guard down. Still, I turn away from her, more worried about her seeing my vulnerability than attacking me.
I take the darts’ matching blowgun from the wall and roll the barrel between my fingers. When I look back to Rune, she’swatching me again, same stoic expression as before. She remains silent as I load two darts into the gun, but then shakes her head when I hold it out to her.
“I’ll show you how to use it,” I say, nodding.
At the same time, she says, “Why would you be my friend?”
I flinch, and it must show, because Rune’s expression softens.
“Why would youwantto be my friend,” she says. She swallows, forcing her eyes up to mine. “Why are you nice to me at all, Harrick?”
There are a million ways I could respond. I could point out that, whether she believes it or not, Iama nice person. I could tell her that being friends is easy, that it doesn’t take any extra effort from me to be hers. Or I could be honest and tell her that she intrigues me, that she’s somehow braver than I’ve ever been. Without a stitch of magic, without a safety net to catch her, she’s stretched her neck as far as she can. And I’m desperate to be around her.
“I don’t know,” I say instead. I’m ready to leave it at that, but her expression closes at the lie. I’ve moved five steps back, and I suddenly feel like a coward. Even more so than usual.
I clear my throat, desperate to empty the weakness from my lungs. My mind is scrambled, and I’m trying to force a cohesive thought from it. I’m still gaping when I hear it.
The softest click.
Rune doesn’t react, but I’ve heard the sound often enough to recognize it. Someone is here, and whoever it is, they won’t react well to…whatever this is. Rune will end up dead and I’ll be in a cell for treason.
I lunge, grabbing Rune by her shoulders and rotating her back to the nearest wall. She lets out something between a gasp and shriek, but there’s no time to explain. The dart gun fallsbetween us as I press my thigh between her legs. Even behind her mask, I can see her eyes, wide with horror.
“Please—”
I don’t let her finish. I crash my lips against hers, kissing her, even when I know she doesn’t understand. I hate myself for it. Hate that I don’t know how else to keep her safe, hate that Malek will hurt her if I give him the chance.
I make it loud and sloppy. It’s not how I would kiss her if this was real, if she was letting me. I’d make it good for her. I’d savor the taste of her until she was begging for more. Instead, I’m reckless, concerned only with how this looks.
Malek laughs, loud and stark, and gives an exaggerated, slow clap.
I pull back, feeling the crush of self-loathing as I do. I desperately want Rune to look at me, to understand I’m trying to save us. But her eyes are closed, tears dotting her eyelashes.
I’m trying to keep you safe.
I won’t let him hurt you.
Please, please don’t hate me for this.
“Look at this, high and mighty brother of mine,” says Malek. He laughs again. “Always judging my tendencies. Does your betrothed know you’re down here with a rat-whore?”
One last look at Rune before I turn, leaning cruelly against her. It’s the easiest way to keep her fully concealed.
“Leave, Malek,” I snarl. “I don’t interrupt your trysts.”
“Mine don’t typically occur in public,” he drawls. He lounges against the doorframe, mouth curved. His suit is disheveled, as if it’s spent the evening on that elite’s floor. His clawed crown rests lopsided on his head. “I have to say, I’m actually impressed. I figured you’d be writing love sonnets for Viana, not fucking a servant in the arena. I take it no elites will have you?”
I don’t respond. He’s baiting me, and I can’t give into temptation. I need him to get bored and leave—the faster thebetter. I shift in front of Rune as he attempts to look around me. His smile broadens as he realizes what I’m doing.
“Oh relax, Harri. I’m not interested in your whore.” He steps closer and I press harder into Rune. She trembles, her breath hot against my back. Malek tilts his head. “A suggestion, brother. Perhaps, rather than getting your dick wet by a foul creature, you should be training. You certainly need the practice.”
