Chapter 10: The Night Before

The Moot put them up in a stone lodge by the field, with two bedrooms joined by a narrow door.

Sorcha lay awake in hers until the candle burned down.

On the other side of the wood, a man was pacing back and forth across the floor.

She had an iron key in her palm, and she had held it for an hour.

Tomorrow at dawn he would walk onto a field to fight for her, and he would do it with an arm she had seen in the armory.

She sat up, pulled on her robe, and crossed the room.

The key turned without a sound.

Brogan stood at his window with his back to her, in his shirtsleeves, his black glove still on his left hand.

He did not turn around.

"Luna."

"You swore you would not come through this door unless I opened it."

"Yes."

"I opened it."

He turned.

His eyes were gold from edge to edge, and the muscles in his jaw stood out.

"Sorcha. If you are here because you are afraid for me, go back to bed."

"I'm here because I'm furious at you."

"For which part?"

"For the part where you stood in front of twelve Alphas and said you wanted me," she said. "And then you would not look at me for a whole day."

He said nothing.

She crossed the room and stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the heat coming off his body.

"You told me it was a contract," she said. "Not comfort."

"I remember."

"I'm asking. I'm asking you to touch me."

His breath went out of him in one hard sound.

"Say it again."

"Touch me, Brogan."

He took her face in both hands, the bare one and the gloved one, and kissed her.

It was nothing like Corbin's mouth.

There was nothing careful in it and nothing practiced.

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