Biyu’s lipsparted but no sound came. She had imagined various different circumstances where her path would cross with Nikator, and what she would say to him—I swear I was only doing what I had to do; you would have done the same!—and what he would say to her—you betrayed me and I don't really care what horrible means you justify yourself with. All the scenarios ended the same: he didn’t believe her words and chose to stab her.
She’d never thought she would actually see him this soon. Now that she was face to face with him—with his eyes narrowed and his lips curled back into a sneer—all thoughts fled her and she was filled with an instinct torun.
So she did.
Biyu ripped her arm away, turned around, and sprinted down the street. He yelled something behind her, but she didn’t pick up on it—not with the blood roaring in her ears. She collided straight into a man carrying a bundle of twine-tied books; all of them fell to the ground as she pushed past him.
“Watch where you’re going!” he shouted.
She shoved past another person carrying a basket of fruits, and those too scattered across the streets in an array of rollingplums. Another cry followed as she continued to rush through the thickening streets.
What was he doing here?
How had Nikator known where to find her? She hadn’t left any clues behind that she was here. What if he had tortured Yat-sen in his last moments to find her location? The thought sent a chill down her spine and she ran even harder. Her head swam with possibilities. Being brought back to the emperor, being stripped down in the dungeons to be tortured, being kept alive until the mages could find a way to break this bond between Nikator and herself.
Biyu glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see him; her steps slowed as confusion marred her mind. She had seen Nikator; he was unmistakable with his striking red hair and those startling eyes. Had she imagined it? There was no way.
She turned fully, her gaze flicking over the crowds and her eyebrows pulling together.
“Looking for me?”
She gasped when he grabbed her wrist from behind. She tried yanking away, but he held tight.
“Don’t try to run again.” She could hear the barely concealed annoyance in his tone.
He allowed her to wrench her hand away, and she made to run again, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back flush against his chest. Heat coursed through her body at the unexpected contact, and all thoughts disappeared from her. His hand was firm against her stomach, his fingers spread out and steady against her. She inhaled sharply, all too aware of the curious glances sent their way.
“Let me go,” she whisper-shouted, shoulders trembling.
“No.” His mouth brushed against her ear and another shudder rippled over her. His breath warmed her neck as hesnarled, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve running all the way here and making demands,princess.”
“Let. Me. Go.” Biyu elbowed him, hard, but it did nothing against him. She tried again, and he muttered a curse and hoisted her up. A yelp escaped from her as he tossed her over his shoulder. Her head smacked into his back and her hair canopied her face. The sudden blood rush made her dizzy enough that she almost forgot they were in public. Mortification heated her cheeks and she punched his back.
“Let me go, you brute!”
He didn’t even bother with a response.
The crowds of people parted, no one seeming to want to mess with the tall, lethal-looking warrior.
Cowards, she thought bitterly.
“Stop this, Nikator! Let me go!” She threw more punches at him, but he didn’t release her. She struggled some more, squirming in his grip, but he braced an arm tighter against her thighs, holding her even more steady. Heat coiled in her lower belly and she hated the way her body reacted to him.
“So you can run away again? I think the hell not.” His voice came out low, deadly, and with a hint of rage. He put her down a minute later, and before she could orient herself again, he was picking her up once more. She gasped as he hoisted her atop a black steed. She had never ridden a horse before, and her heart picked up in pace as her hands fisted in its mane. Nikator lifted himself up behind her and she stiffened at the feel of his chest against her back. She tried scooting forward, but the horse galloped forward and she slid back against him again. Heat spread over her when his arms braced on both sides of her waist to hold the reins.
“What are you doing? Let me go,please.” Biyu held onto the horse’s mane for dear life. Her wide eyes skimmed over the streets, but she couldn’t even appreciate the sights and the feel ofbeing so high up, not with the waves of fear crashing inside her with every bump. “Nikator, let me?—”
“You’re in no position to make demands,” he growled.
A shiver raced down her spine.
“Nik,please.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Nikator—”
“Don’t.” His breath warmed her skin and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, but she got the sense it was more so she could hear him, rather than him wanting to be near her. His voice told her he wanted nothing to do with her, and her chest squeezed painfully at the harshness of his tone. “I don’t want to hear your excuses and I definitely don’t want to hear your lies.”
