Page 105 of A Thief to Die For

‘I’m sorry for tempting you to break your vow,’ I whisper thickly, certain my ribs are fracturing at the anguish in his eyes. ‘It won’t happen again.’

This time, when I walk away, I don’t let myself stop.

Not long after, while Fitzgerald and Levi are on watch, the rest of us sleep out in the open.

But slumber is impossible for me. Instead, I stare at the stars under the bright, full-moon sky and try not to think about tomorrow. About how I’ll face off against Atlas. Or what will happen after … if I survive. All I know is that I’ll have to go wherever Ryland isn’t. I don’t see any other way.

In what feels like both a victory and a loss all at once, no one sleeps in between Ryland and me tonight. He lies maybe ten feet away.

When enough time has passed, I finally roll over and allow myself to look at him. He must be asleep by now, and if these are our last moments, I want to memorise the details, treasure them.

But when I make out the shadows and form of his body, I see that his eyes are open too, and he’s already staring at me.

My stomach tumbles.

His gaze doesn’t waver, and I can’t for the life of me look away.

The pain of the reality we’re facing is worse than anything I’ve felt before. My heart yearns for him with a physical ache. How easy it would be to rise and slip under his blanket and –

Stop.

I could live a thousand years and I wouldn’t face a greater temptation. Still, neither of us makes the move.

I wish you well, Ryland. A bright and long future. I hope for you the very best life.

Then, feeling like my heart is being ripped from my chest, I turn my head and close my eyes. Not long after, I hear Ryland shift, also rolling away.

We’re in agreement. Whatever we had is over. I stuff my face in the crook of my elbow and cry silently into my arm.

In the morning, we ride hard for an hour, until I spot the remnants of a campfire. Many fires. Not far off lie deep wagon tracks, fresh in the soft ground. Against my better judgement, I look at Ryland. ‘It’s them.’

My stomach swoops low as he dismounts and kicks at the ashes with his boots. ‘It’s smouldering,’ he says. ‘We’re close.’ In the set of his jaw, I find equal parts caution and determination. He’s in elite-guard mode. Still, I bask in the way his eyes struggle to tear away from me, then mourn when he succeeds.

I’m a mess.

The weight of tension on all of us grows heavier as we ride on, knowing Atlas could be around the next corner. We slow down so we’re not a thundering stampede announcing our arrival. And then, just as we’re about to ride into a valley, there they are – a horde of dozens of trailers and wagons. They’ve stopped for a rest and formed a circle, creating a protected space in the middle. Most of their horses are being watered at a pond near the trees.

They’re close enough that it wouldn’t take much riding ahead to land a shot. We also have the high ground, while they’re exposed on open land. If only they didn’t outnumber us eight, possibly ten, to one.

‘What’s the plan?’ Fitzgerald asks. ‘Surround them and fire?’

‘I say burn their wagons,’ offers Levi. ‘Let them run.’

‘No,’ Samuel growls. ‘We can’t let them regroup to try again. This ends here.’

‘What?’ My heart jumps. ‘My sister is in there, and not all the guardsmen with her are irredeemable. Shouldn’t we at least see? Be cautious? It’s not their fault they were commanded to come.’

‘Trust me,’ Samuel says. ‘Once they figure out we’re here, a clear line will be drawn in the sand.’

What does that even mean?

‘Nothing is happening until we get Agatha out,’ says Ryland.

A claw of jealousy digs in. I push it away. ‘He’s right. It’s why I need to go in first. Alone.’

‘What?’ Ryland whirls on me.

‘Are you two idiots?’ asks Samuel. ‘If anyone goes in, we’ll lose the element of surprise – our only advantage. Your priority might be this little love situation you’ve got going on. But my priority is Kingsland, and I’m not pissing around. So we’re going to flank them, then light them up. And if you need to, we can chat about it afterwards.’