The wagon loomed ahead, stacked high with barrels and crates, its driver cursing at a stubborn ox that refused to move. Erik shoved through the bodies, dragging Rey with him, his eyes locked on their escape.
"Climb," he muttered under his breath, voice sharp with urgency.
But Rey's steps faltered. That heat pulsed through her veins again, raw and demanding, and she knew he was close. Too close. Her gaze flicked back despite herself, and her heart seized at the sight of him, towering above the crowd, head tilted as if he could smell her fear through the smoke and dust.
Then the air broke.
One of the oxen pulling a nearby wagon reared violently, foam spraying from its mouth, eyes rolling white. It bellowed, hooves striking the ground with a force that rattled the stones. The driver shout
