I don’t say anything, because I’m not a liar.
She smiles knowingly. “You’ve thought about alot, right? You’re ashamed by how much you’ve thought about her.”
My glare is scathing, and she laughs. Her hands slide up my chest, up to my hair. She weaves her fingers through, pulls—
And the specter is right. I have imagined this. Far too many times. But withIsla. And though this is her form ... it’s not her. Not really.
I know for certain, because Iknowher. I know the way she breathes, the way she frowns, the way she would never be biting her lip for this long, never be standing so precariously on her toes. She’s been trained as a fighter, even when she’s clumsy, you can see the shadow of that training, of that mastery of her body. It’s missing now.
The specter leans forward. Isla’s face is right in front of mine, close enough that I can count the flecks of gold in her green eyes.
Her lips are almost against mine. Just a whisper away. Just like I’ve dreamed.
“That’s enough,” I growl.
Isla blinks, and I know it’s her. I know it’s her because her eyes widen, she gasps a little, and I feel it against my mouth.
Then she startles, nearly falling backward, before I catch her.
The specter tells us the heart is not on Star Isle.
An isle off our list. Time is dwindling. We’ll need to figure out other ways to eliminate places to look.
I should be thinking of ideas. But as we walk back toward the bridge, I wonder if Isla could ever want to touch me like the specter did.
If there was ever any chance of that, it’s ruined minutes later, when Isla assumes we’re going straight to the Sun Isle library, and I tell her that she’s not going there any time soon.
When I tell her she should have been more specific with her request. Like an ass.
And I know this is good, and neither of us should have any sort of feelings for each other, but a part of me withers, seeing her look upon me like I’m a traitor.
Her voice shakes with anger, as she says, “You ... you are a selfcentered, heartless wretch.”
She’s looking at me as if I amscum.
And for some reason, that one look has me furious. Frustrated. A snap away from losing my sanity.
She is making me lose my mind. And perhaps that’s been her strategy this whole time.
“Is this your plan, Wildling?” I demand, not able to keep this in me any longer. “To try to win my heart by tormenting me?” It was the plan of all her ancestors before her. It must be hers. These ridiculous, distracting, ruinous thoughts must be her doing. I search her eyes, truly wondering. Because none of this makes sense. I’m desperate, desperate to understand.
All she does is laugh. She laughs and laughs. Then her own anger seems to find her again, because she steps up to me and says, very slowly, “I have absolutely no interest in you whatsoever,King.”
I am shocked into silence, because she is telling the truth.
I’ve never hated sweetness more.
“Then whatareyou interested in, Wildling?” I demand, needing to know. Needing to understandsomethingin this sea of uncertainty. “Why do you want access to my library? What are you looking for?”
She says nothing.
I take a step closer. “I have watched you. You are a chameleon, becoming everything everyone wants you to be, all the time. Exceptaroundme—you don’t seem to give a damn what I think of you.” I shake my head.
“The lands I have been entrusted with are dying.Iam dying. I will do anything it takes to break these curses. You, or whatever you are planning, will not keep me from that end.” I mean it.I need to mean it. I look down at her, as if her truth could be written across her skin. “So, I will ask you again. What do you want, Wildling?”
I wish I could order her to answer. I wish I could ordermyselfnot to be so tied to her answer. She says nothing. She just leaves in a rage, saying she’sdone. Done with me.
But I’m not done with her.
