“Rion, I…” Annie clutched her arms, unable to stop the shivering. On the opposite side of the trap, Rion sat silently watching her. His face was unreadable. A bead of water rolled down the side of his face, but he didn’t make any attempt to wipe it away. The heater in the trap’s floor either wasn’t working, or it was working improperly, because she felt like she was freezing. “You need some dry clothes, or else you’ll catch your death,” she whispered.
“It will not be the first time,” he rumbled. His voice was barely discernable above the steady whoosh whoosh sound of the couriers’ wings outside. His eyes remained locked on her, but as they were hidden by the shadows, she couldn’t read him. Not his eyes or his posture. It was as if he was studying her. Or making a decision.
They had nev
