2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

his power. And in this small space, the scent of him washed over me, beckoned to me.
Upstairs was dark, illuminated by the small window at the end of the hall, and the
moonlight streaming in through a thin gap in the pines around us. There were only two
doors up here, and Rhys pointed to one of them. “You and Mor can share tonight—just tell
her to shut up if she babbles too much.” I wouldn’t, though. If she needed to talk, to
distract herself and be ready for what was to come tomorrow, I’d listen until dawn.
He put a hand on his own doorknob, but I leaned against the wood of my door.
It’d be so easy to take the three steps to cross the hall.
To run my hands over that chest, trace those beautiful lips with my own.
I swallowed as he turned to me.
I didn’t want to think what it meant, what I was doing. What this was—whatever it was
—between us.
Because things between us had never been normal, not from the very first moment we’d
met on Calanmai. I’d been unable to easily walk away from him then, when I’d thought he
was deadly, dangerous. But now …
Traitor, traitor, traitor—
He opened his mouth, but I had already slipped inside my room and shut the door.
Freezing rain trickled through the pine boughs as I stalked through the mists in my Illyrian
fighting leathers, armed with a bow, quiver, and knives, shivering like a wet dog.
Rhys was a few hundred feet behind, carrying our packs. We’d flown deep into the
forest steppes, far enough that we’d have to spend the night out here. Far enough that no
one and nothing might see another “glorious explosion of flame and temper,” as Rhys had
put it. Azriel hadn’t brought word from my sisters of the queens’ status, so we had time to
spare. Though Rhys certainly hadn’t looked like it when he informed me that morning.
But at least we wouldn’t have to camp out here. Rhys had promised there was some sort of
wayfarer’s inn nearby.
I turned toward where Rhys trailed behind me, spotting his massive wings first. Mor
had set off before I’d even been awake, and Cassian had been pissy and on edge during
breakfast … So much so that I’d been glad to leave as soon as I’d finished my porridge.
And felt slightly bad for the Illyrians who had to deal with him that day.
Rhys paused once he caught up, and even with the trees and rain between us, I could see
his brows lift in silent question of why I’d paused. We hadn’t spoken of Starfall or the
Court of Nightmares—and last night, as I twisted and turned in the tiny bed, I’d decided:
fun and distraction. It didn’t need to be complicated. Keeping things purely physical …
well, it didn’t feel like as much of a betrayal.
I lifted a hand, signaling Rhys to stay where he was. After yesterday, I didn’t want him
too close, lest I burn him. Or worse. He sketched a dramatic bow, and I rolled my eyes as I