Cloud Piercer

Twenty

I jump, spinning around. Killian's leaning against a tree, his arms folded across his chest and eyes on me. I hadn't heard him get back, I hadn't seen him, even though he had to have come from the same direction we did.

I lift my chin. "And if I was? Would you stop me?"

He strolls towards me, stopping only when he's a few feet away. I have to crane my neck to look up at him as he ducks his head. My entire body freezes as his face gets closer, tilting slightly so his mouth is by my ear. His breath brushes my skin so gently that if it weren't for the goosebumps rising on my neck, I wouldn't notice. "Why don't you run and find out?" he whispers.

I grip the hilt of my dagger, unsheathing it and twisting my body so that he's against the tree, my knife is at this throat, my forearm holding him against the trunk of the tree.

"Don't threaten me."

He looks down at me through long lashes, and despite the blade pressed to his skin, that dimple dents his left cheek. Before I can blink, he knocks my arm down and twists it behind my back, wrapping his other arm around my chest and pulling me backwards until my back is pressed to his chest.

My dagger is now in Killian's hand, the blade only just pressed against my throat.

"Oh, Freya," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear. "If you want to prove yourself to Trina, you're going to have to do a lot better than that."

Shivers stroke my skin. I try to convince myself it's because of what he's said and not because of the way he holds me to him, his chest hard against my back. He releases me the second I put pressure on his arm. I spin around, pushing my shoulders back and meeting his eye, hating the warmth seeping into my cheeks.

"Give me that back," I say, nodding at the dagger.

The second he holds it out, I snatch it from him, shoving it back into its sheath and folding my arms, trying to ignore the smug expression on his face.

"I'm serious, you know. You can't go wandering off with your guard down like that," Killian says.

"I was fine."

"If I'd wanted to kill you right then, I could have." He shakes his head, expression growing more serious. "Deserters are loyal. But you're not one of us yet, Freya, and there are people like Jax and Jessenia who don't think you should be one of us because they see you as a liability. When it comes down to it, they won't have your back."

"Are you implying that you would?"

"I told you I was here to keep you alive, didn't I?"

The first time he'd said it, there'd been a teasing look on his face. But when I search his eyes for any hint of humour, I come up empty.

"Yeah, well, I don't exactly trust you."

"I don't blame you. But I promise I won't let anything hurt you."

His midnight eyes trap my gaze. They remind me of the night sky, reflecting the distant lights of the forge like tiny stars. His promise stirs something inside my chest. And even though he's given me no reason to, I believe him.

I know he's a deserter now, but Killian Li is just as much a mystery to me as he was when he first arrived in Veymaw. I have no idea how much of what I found out about him was true and what was a lie. And that irks me, because despite the arrogance, the devilishly handsome gaze and loud confidence, I want to know him. The truth.

"You told me you came to Veymaw from Portson," I say. "True, or false?"

"True."

"Your father was a trader."