Page 48 of A Thief to Die For

His hand rises to cover mine on his jaw, holding it there. Fire enters his eyes – as well as a question. A request. I answer by stretching my fingers, caressing more of his skin. My thumb slides over his full bottom lip. I pause there.

He kisses it.

I gasp as heat licks up my arm. My neck. Tension coils in my belly. How do I get him to do that to my lips?

‘Was that okay?’ he asks. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘I’m thinking … I’m jealous of my thumb.’

Ryland’s gaze drops to my lips, looking every bit like he’s going to kiss me.

And I would absolutely let him. The realisation has me moving. Ryland leans in. I half climb into his lap, and he lifts me the rest of the way. But despite our sudden urgency, we slow as our chests come together. Everything feels magnified as his eyes study me, lips parted. There’s something like awe on his face. It’s so intense it makes me nervous, yet the pull to him is growing seismically. His strength supporting me is a nest of safety I haven’t felt in a long time. I inhale – and saints, his scent of leather and fresh air smells so incredibly good. Once again, I run my fingers over his cheek as our faces hover only inches apart, breathing each other’s air. My heart feels like it’s about to come flying out of my chest, but I’m beginning to understand that I could wait hours – days – in his lap and that likely wouldn’t change. I didn’t know this kind of alchemy was possible.

I lean in and kiss him, my lips brushing his in the softest –

A ragged scream rips through the air from somewhere outside. We both still, then quickly break apart. He dives for his weapons. I scramble to pull on my boot.

More panicked screams come, growing louder.

And they don’t stop.

‘Could it be a real vagabond attack?’ Ryland asks.

I wince as I tie my hair back, needing it out of my face in case I have to fight. ‘It’s possible. They could have gotten past the guardsmen on the lower bluffs leading to Notting territory.’

Another anguished cry comes from outside. They’re happening in close succession now. A man frantically shouts something I can’t make out.

Ryland dives to open the zipped door of the tent and helps me out first. Then we’re running, sprinting – as best I can with my ankle – through the trees in the direction of the disturbance. It’s at the Dresden camp.

When we’re still a good distance away, I see light. Too much of it, illuminating the tops of the trees.

I’m breathless. A fire.

With so many homes sharing support trees and walls, this whole place could go up in flames.

We run past a woman outside her home, hand over her mouth, eyes wide with fear. And now I see why. There’s not one fire, but three separate ones, nowhere near each other. How does this happen?

It doesn’t.

These fires were set on purpose.

People closest to the flames run and scream for water.

‘Over here,’ Ryland says, grabbing my hand, snapping me out of my paralysis. He leads me around the firepits and tables in the centre, working our way to the closest blaze. The calls for water are incessant. Others scream, desperate to find their loved ones.

I spin around. We need buckets from the compound and –

Two men standing off to the side grab my attention. They speak among themselves, not running. Not helping. One of them holds a lit torch, allowing me to see their uniforms – guardsmen. It’s Soren and Petronis.

Instantly I know: they did this.

Someone screams, drawing my attention. It’s the woman facing exile for not paying at collections. She rushes past the men, panicked, arms loaded with blankets and other irreplaceable supplies she’s trying to save. She trips and falls hard. Petronis attempts to hide his laughter behind his hand.

Molten hot rage pumps through my body, as I charge towards them. What I wouldn’t give to have my whip right now.

Soren mutters something as he spots me, then reluctantly straightens. No doubt, this was his idea. I walk right up to him and slam my hands hard into his chest, knocking him to the ground. ‘What did you do?’ I yell.

His face twists in anger. Petronis holds him back as he half launches at me. ‘Marian,’ he growls. ‘Nice to finally have your attention.’