“Why are you here?” Ronan snaps, not even trying to keep the annoyance from his voice. He wants Karis focusing on his voice, on the conversation, and not the way he shifts slightly on the cot, his feet sliding back for an easier launch.
He doesn’t really care what Karis says, but the brat’s answer surprises him. That pretty face goes still for an instant before softening into a barely-fake smile. “I don’t know why I’m down here. I was hoping you could help me figure that out.”
Before Ronan can mull that over, a sound interrupts from outside the cell. A muffled voice calling, “Have you seen Cooper? He’s late for kitchen duty.”
And when Karis turns towards the door, silent and frowning, Ronan strikes. The open cuffs fall from his wrists. He can’t afford to leave Karis here, but he can take him along for the ride.
?
CHAPTER THREE
KARIS
Karis reacts instinctively to the movement, but he isn’t quick enough. He barely touches his dagger before a rough hand yanks his wrist away. Another slaps over his mouth. Karis struggles uselessly, his cheeks stinging, his lungs filling with the taste of Ronan’s skin.
Ronan lets go of his wrist. An instant later, the cold edge of his own blade kisses Karis’s throat. Karis freezes, and every sensation sharpens with the whetstone of danger.
“Will you scream if I uncover your mouth?” Ronan’s lips brush the shell of Karis’s ear, and his warm breath tickles. Karis is far too aware of the broad chest plastered against his shoulder blades, the body heat shared between them. Low laughter rumbles through Ronan’s chest and vibrates through Karis’s body. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter if you do.”
The heavy hand falls away from his mouth and lands on his shoulder instead. Karis inhales sharply, then bites his lip. He wants to scream, but not yet. Not while he and Ronan are the only ones in this little room.
“Do you have any coin on you?” Ronan asks.
“Belt pouch on my left hip. It’s not nearly enough to bribe your way out of here.”
Ronan laughs and reaches around his body, fumbling slightly before one-handedly opening the pouch. The heel of his hand presses into the tender skin alongside Karis’s hipbone, and his fingers rub carelessly against the top of his thigh as he fishes the coins out. Karis breathes in and thinks very hard,Hey, Vara, now would be a great time for some divine guidance!
Radiant Vara is silent.
There’s some fumbling and clinking behind him, presumably Karis’s trainee wages finding a new home in Ronan’s pocket, before Ronan murmurs again in his ear. “All right, let’s take a walk together. Open the door.”
Karis obeys, hands shaking. The door swings outward, and Ronan pushes him forward into the hallway.
A familiar blue cloak waits by the stairwell. Karis yells out, “Bernard!”
Bernard spins around, hand on his sword, and stops. The hallway is brightly lit. His gaze clearly drops to the blade at Karis’s throat, and his face pales in far greater alarm than Karis expected. He’s never gotten along well with Bernard, and he’s pretty sure the dislike is mutual. The guy should be pissed off that Ronan escaped, not—scared?
“Don’t do anything hasty, Bernard,” Ronan says over Karis’s shoulder. His voice is low and calm. Charismatic, despite the danger. Or because of it. “I’m going to let this kid go as soon as we reach the market square. Can you do me a favor and clear out anyone upstairs who might interfere?”
Bernard’s hand tightens on his sword, but he doesn’t draw it. “Let him go, Vizia. Holding onto him won’t get you out of here.”
Cold pressure increases against Karis’s neck. He feels entirely useless. He has just enough combat training to know he’s no match for Ronan in this situation, unarmed with a knife already at his throat.
“Varans have always been bad liars,” Ronan tells Bernard. “Is this kid that important? Hurry up before my hand slips.”
Bernard’s face flushes red, then white, settling into a scowl. His hand falls from his sword. “We’ll be following you to the market,” he says, and heads for the staircase.
Karis gapes after him, stunned by the sudden capitulation. He stumbles when Ronan shoves him forward.What the fuck is Bernard’s problem? Do I have to handle this myself?
“You should probably just go back to the cell,” he says when they reach the stairs. The blade is still near his neck but no longer touches his skin, and the few inches of distance give him a bit of much-needed confidence. “He’s gone off to warn the others.”
“I bet you five gold he’ll do as I said.” Ronan’s voice has lost the threatening edge he had when speaking to Bernard.
“I’d take the bet,” Karis says, “but I seem to be missing my coin.”
Ronan just laughs.
They make it up the stairs and down the hall, and at every turn, Karis expects swords and beams of Radiance to come piercing at them. But all they see is Bernard and Dace waiting at a side door. Swords drawn, they actually step aside as Ronan and Karis approach.Why the fuck are they being so compliant? Are they that concerned for the state of my skin?