Page 137 of Starside

Then takes the whole fruit in its mouth. It chews, ice shattering against its strong teeth. After a few seconds, it spits the core onto the ground.

The translucent fur deepens before my eyes, darkens to the most glorious silver-blue, until it’s fully solid. It huffs, its breath cool against the top of my head.

“Keep feeding it apples, and it’ll keep going, for as long as it can,” the hunter says, handing me a simple satchel full of the frozen fruit, from the larger pack Invira carries.

Raker steps to my side. I try not to let my worry reach my face as I stare up at the horse, but he reads me immediately.

He scoffs, and I can almost hear his voice in my head saying, Of course you can’t fucking ride a horse without a saddle.

It’s not like there were many opportunities to learn. I’ve only ridden a horse a handful of times—always with a saddle—and one of those times was during the Culling.

Raker shakes his head. Then, in half a moment, he’s gripping my waist and hauling me up onto the horse, as if I weigh absolutely nothing.

My shoulders hike up. The horse is freezing. I lean forward and run a hand down its neck. I scratch behind its ears, and it makes a pleased sound.

I tense as Raker climbs on behind me. Of course. There’s only one horse, and two of us. I knew that, but still, I didn’t really consider what it would be like until he was right at my back.

As if sensing my discomfort, Raker says, voice far too close to my ear, “Would you prefer I ride in front?”

His voice is acid. As if he knows I, of course, would not prefer to cling to him for the entire journey.

“No,” I say, just as terse.

The hunter comes into view. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Aris,” he says. “May our paths cross again.” He tips his head in goodbye, at me, then Raker. Invira breathes out a puff of cold air.

All Raker does is kick the horse’s sides—and the skyhorse jolts forward.

The forest becomes streaks of gold and silver and green as the horse runs faster than the wind. My grip loosens and I fall back with the speed, crashing into Raker’s chest, head banging on his armor. I nearly slip off, but his arms are on either side of me, keeping me on, his own hold steady.

And now … now there isn’t a single inch between us. Our bodies are completely flush. My ass is between his legs. His thighs are bracketing mine.

It shouldn’t make my skin prickle. It shouldn’t make it hard to breathe. I have seen what this body can do—I should fear it, but I don’t. I hate him.

But that doesn’t mean I am blind to his attractiveness.

I wonder if he senses at all that my heart is racing, or that I can’t even form a single coherent thought, my muscles tensed, my entire awareness narrowing to the feel of him. Apparently, he can.

“Breathe, Aris,” he says, deep voice piercing even the wind, and it does absolutely nothing to slow my pulse.

He shifts back, as if to put some space between us, as if knowing that’s why I’ve suddenly revealed myself to be a statue, but we’re going so fast, I just slip right back between his legs.

He’s in armor. I know that. I’m just feeling metal. But we’re so close. And I’m so cold, but he’s radiating heat. I’m leaning back slightly to get closer to it. I’m wondering what it would feel like if he wasn’t in his armor. If he was in fabrics just as thin as the ones that now are brushing uncomfortably against my heated skin.

I must be losing my fucking mind.

Especially when Raker lets go of the horse with one hand and uses the other to take my hair in his fist.

I lose the ability to think.

“It’s getting in my face,” he says, his voice a rough whisper in my ear, as if he’s leaning down so that I can hear him, and I swallow as he twists my long braid around and around his wrist, turning it into a knot. Pulling just the slightest bit.

“Alleged face,” I breathe, in an attempt at humor at a time when my skin feels like it’s on fire.

He gently tucks the knot of my hair beneath my collar, and I feel the faint brush of his rough fingers against my nape.

The skyhorse rides through the night, so quickly its hooves hardly touch the ground. Looking too closely at the rushing woods makes my eyes hurt after a while, so, after I give the horse her second apple, I close them.

Sometime later, I jolt awake, gasping. Only to find that I’m completely, shamelessly slumped against Raker. He’s the only thing keeping me on this racing horse. My body is draped against his chest. His arms are on either side of me. To hold me still, his large body is curved around me.