Free The Golden Apple by Michelle Diener Page B

straight at me. Sent me to Eric’s dungeon.”
    She leant over, hands on her knees and breathed deeply.
    Rane was unable to say anything. Eric’s dungeon?
    Kayla lifted her head. “Eric was surprised. And scared.” She straightened. “He wouldn’t come near it.”
    “Why did he have that look on his face?” Rane saw her hands tug at her shirt, smooth back her hair.
    “What look?” She glanced at him, but he knew she’d understood what he meant.
    He didn’t answer, kept his gaze steady on her.
    She made a sound, exasperated. “He thought I’d decided to take what he offered.”
    “And what had he offered?” Rane realized he was knocking his fist hard against his thigh, and forced his arm still.
    Kayla’s eyes were serious, worried. “Everything.” She spun away, began down the path back to the camp, but stopped after two steps. Turned. “And nothing.”
    She looked so stricken, so small, he understood there was more to it than that. Eric had done something to her. Told her something, or threatened her, and she was not going to tell him what.
    With a curse, he strode forward, gripped her shoulders.
    “What did he say to you?” He just resisted shaking her, forcing his fingers to hold her lightly.
    He expected her to shout, or put on the cool, untouchable royal look she’d used since she realized he’d betrayed her. But she did neither.
    Instead, a tear spilled from her eye, and ran down her cheek, and her lips trembled.
    “What did he say to you?” He said it gently this time, let his hands fall from her shoulders.
    She shook her head. Drew herself up. “He assumed I knew things…that I did not know. He could be lying, but I don’t think so. If he’s right, my parents lied to me, and kept things from me. But he doesn’t know that, and so he thinks he understands me. That he knows what I want.”
    “And does he?” Rane stepped back, putting a little distance between them.
    Her gaze flew to his, and held. She looked five years old. Lost. “No.” She took a step towards him, and suddenly she didn’t look five years old any more. She lifted her face and her lips brushed his, light, tentative. “He doesn’t understand me at all.”

 
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    I t was the kiss Kayla should have given Rane earlier. The kiss she had wanted but her pride and her caution had refused to let her take.
    Eric thought she wanted power, but really, all she wanted was the right to determine her own path. And the only one who’d ever helped her with that was Rane.
    His response, immediate, completely serious, set her whole body trembling with anticipation. She’d felt the full force of his concentration once before. Her body sang at the thought of receiving it again.
    He did not hold her, did not touch her, the only point of contact was their lips.
    It made her skin unbearably sensitive. Every brush of forest breeze, every flutter of her clothes, teased her.
    When he stepped back, she thought it was to take her in his arms, but when she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, his face a tight mask.
    “What is it?” She heard herself speak as if from far off, as if she were waking from a dream.
    “What do you want from me?” His voice was stark, the deep timbre of it fraying at the edges.
    “Want?” She blinked, feeling stupid.
    “Whatever we did together that night in your chamber, whatever your father has given me right to, the fact remains, princess, I am a woodsman. What do you want of me?”
    She could not recall ever being at such a loss. She brought her hands together, stared at her intertwined fingers. What did she want of him, specifically? “I don’t know.”
    He said nothing, but his jaw bunched and his hands and arms were clenched so tight, she could see the muscles, the tendons, standing out.
    The silence went on for a beat. Then another. At last, she turned and started back to the camp. She could feel his eyes on her, like an itch between her shoulder blades.
    And running through her