Page 214 of Starside

“What are you—”

Before I can say a word, Raker has me in his arms, and there’s the slam of doors behind us. We’re in a crimson room.

I slip from his hold and am about to knee him in the groin when he grips behind my leg and spins me so my spine hits the wall.

“Cute,” he says, glowering down at me, his hand still curled beneath my knee, pulled in an angle against his body.

To anyone walking in, we would look like a couple. A couple doing anything but glaring at each other, baring our teeth at each other.

“What are you doing?” I growl.

“He is parading you.”

I scoff. “Do you think I care? Do you think I have any remaining shame?”

“You should.”

“Why? I’ll be dead soon anyway, right?” I say, throwing his own words back at him.

He doesn’t like that. His eyes narrow. He leans in, opening his mouth to no doubt insult me further, but then he pauses. He ducks slowly, nose nearly touching my jaw.

Then, he goes rigid. “I can smell him all over you,” he snarls. His eyes are alight with nothing short of fury.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you were jealous,” I counter.

“Good thing you know better,” he growls, our lips just inches apart. We’re both breathing too quickly, both fuming.

Just at that moment, the doors fly open.

It’s the heir of House Harlow. Magnus. He must have heard my protests. Or maybe he saw me get shoved into this room. His hand is on his sword. He’s here to defend me.

It’s almost endearing.

Raker will kill him without a second thought. And though I have no interest in him whatsoever, his is the only oath I’ve secured. Also, he did seem halfway decent, which seems to be a rarity in this castle.

We don’t need the entire ball up in arms.

So I do what I think is the best solution.

I take Raker’s face in my hands and pull his mouth toward mine.

His eyes widen.

Widen.

We have almost been ripped apart by demons. We have survived a deadly mist and bog, crawling with beasts. We have gone days without food or water. We have faced countless dangers.

Never once have I seen Raker seem this terrified.

His arm juts out against the wall, stopping my lips half an inch from his. He bares his teeth and glares at me.

Stubborn idiot.

My lips slip down his neck instead, and I feel him tense beneath me. “Pretend,” I whisper against his skin, and if anything, he stills even more. But he doesn’t back away. No. He moves closer.

I groan, pretending but also not being able to help myself, as I breathe in the fresh smell of his incredible, intoxicating soap. I’m going to need to ask him what’s in it, if we get out of here alive. Whatever it is, it’s my favorite.

I blame the soap for what I do next—which is to lean in very slowly, making my intent known. Waiting for him to pull back. When he doesn’t, just like in the underground under the fire demon’s influence, I press my lips against his throat and suck against his pulse.