They climbed faster.
The frozen metal of the railing seared his hand like fire and the clang, clang, clang of their shoes on the stairs sounded extra loud in the new snow of early morning. They reached the end and he helped her up onto the rooftop, just as the first shouts of the guards below them began to echo down the alley. They hadn’t yet figured out that their quarry had gone up instead of down, which bought them a bit of time, but not much.
As he pulled her across the top of the narrow roof, they passed a gargoyle hanging on the lip of the building that stared at them with a wise and bemused look on his old, pinched face.
Ronan said the words that would get them back to Priss’s, but no pocket appeared, just more cold, snowy rooftop. So Priss had canceled his quick escape and had been up to no good. The next time he saw her, he’d let her know how unhappy he was. Right now he had other concerns.
The buildings in downtown Piefferburg were old, built mostly in the 1600s and 1700s and restored and renovated over the centuries. That meant they’d been built very close together, since back then there’d been no automobiles. Still, they were far enough apart that they’d have to use magick to jump rooftop to rooftop, until he ran out of juice. Once they were far enough—or he tired too much to safely get them across—they’d descend.
Muttering in Old Maejian, he wove the spell they needed to bridge the buildings and hurried across. He aimed them in the direction they needed to go—toward the Boundary Lands.
He watched her float across the last gap between the roofs. The chill had painted her cheeks rosy, made her dark eyes sparkle. A smile had overtaken her features, bright and beautiful. Despite the cold temperatures and the danger they were in, being away from the confines of the Rose Tower suited her.
The pinched, severe expression she normally wore was gone.
If Ronan had his way, it would be gone forever.
He’d made a mistake thirty years ago, one that had affected them both in a negative way. He had every intention now of making it right. Fixing that wrong. He wanted Bella more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. She was his anchor, his hope, his love.
She was his and there was no one who could take her away from him. Not again. Not ever.
She came to a stop in front of him, her eyes still lighted and her smile still beaming. The light faltered a little as she saw the expression on his face and in his eyes. He knew how he looked. Hungry.
Determined. She tried to step back, but he caught her arms and dragged her up against him, his mouth coming down against hers hot and possessively.
She didn’t pull away. Making a little sound in the back of her throat, she pressed into him further. His c**k noticed it. Every part of his body did. His heart really noticed it.
“Bell,” he breathed out, breaking the kiss. He pressed her forehead to his chin and let out a long, slow breath. “We’ve wasted so much time on fear.”
“Maybe too much.”
He didn’t like the tone of her voice, or the tremble in it.
In the distance, the commander of the Guard yelled.
“We have to get down. I don’t have much power left.” His magick wasn’t limitless.
They left the last step of a nearby fire escape and their shoes sank into the ever-thickening layer of snow in an alley. Hearing the sounds of the Imperial Guard fanning out to search the area, he pulled her down the narrow alley and around the corner of a building, only to glimpse a force of Imperial Guards coming around the side of the same building, right for them.
They ducked back around and pressed up against the brick wall of the building behind them, both panting. The snow was coming down so heavily that it was covering their footprints. That was a stroke of luck.
“There!” Bella pointed at a vehicle some ways down the road. “If we can make it to that truck, we can hide beneath it.”
With his magick almost drained to the dregs, it was their only chance.
They reached the rusty old red truck and got beneath it from the side least likely to reveal marks in the snow. He pulled her beneath him, rolling her under the warm protection of his body. Their breathing was heavy with exertion and showing white against the cold air. He hoped the queen hadn’t become desperate and employed the Unseelie Court’s magickical bloodhounds. If she had, they were doomed.
The boots of the Imperial Guard tromped past them in two lines and Ronan stared down into Bella’s large brown eyes. They were beautiful eyes, flecked with caramel and amber. Her lips were parted and her breathing still came fast, probably more from fear than physical exertion.
As the boots stomped past them, he dropped his head and kissed her. She tasted even better when she was afraid and clinging to him. She was a strong woman and able to take care of herself, yet he liked it when she thought she needed him. He couldn’t help that caveman part of himself.
After all, he needed her.
Finally the sounds of the boots disappeared into the distance and he reluctantly broke the kiss. He didn’t let her go, though. This was a totally inappropriate situation for arousal, yet his body was primed for her, aching for the feel of her.
“Ronan, this isn’t the time.” But Ronan suspected her words lacked the rebuke she’d meant them to hold. Her facial muscles were slack and her lips rosy and swollen from his mouth. She looked warm, but he knew she had to be freezing.
He murmured one of the many spells he had memorized and wrapped magick around her body to keep the chill away. He didn’t have enough power to cloak both of them, but at least she would be comfortable . . . for a while.