Free The Language of Souls by Lena Goldfinch

yet to cross the punishing route they’d have to take back to Torrani, he could lead Solena to a place where tymia grew wild, the on ly thing she’d asked of him. He’d seen the worry growing in her eyes, making a fine line appear between her brows when she thought he wasn’t looking.
    Rundan woke her at night, when he knew most of his father’s army would be asleep. He’d avoid the scouting grounds, which he knew all too well from his many shifts as an army scout.
    “Come,” he said, shaking her shoulder.
    She groaned and opened her eyes partway, squinting at him with a slight measure of hostility that made him smile. The girl certainly liked her sleep.
    “If we go now, I can take you to your tymia.”
    The sleep instantly fled from her eyes. Without a word, she rose in one fluid motion and bent to slip on her boots. He stared as she tied the laces, admiring the gentle curves of her body in the firelight in a way that would have made him flush to do by day. Her tunic slipped off her shoulder, and before she hitched it up, he found himself wanting to touch her there, to discover how soft her skin was. It looked as smooth as a flower petal. When she straightened and caught him watching her, he held her gaze.
    Rundan’s heart began to thud unevenly in his chest and he had the most intense desire to take her hands and pull her close, to kiss her. She stood as if frozen, her only movement the gentle rise and fall of her chest. And the sweep of her eyelashes as she looked down and away, as if she was the one caught staring and not him.
    He cleared his throat in embarrassment. His mother had taught him not to look at the girls of Oden the way he’d just looked at Solena. His grandmother, when she was alive, would have rapped a stick across his knuckles and made him kneel an hour in prayer. His father would have simply smirked and told him the girl was from Torrani, that she didn’t deserve the same respect.
    Rundan’s hands tightened into fists at the thought.
    That’ s not the way he saw her, not like the soldiers in camp who’d played for her so crudely and measured the hilts of their blades to see who would win her. They’d planned to use her for their pleasure, and maybe worse. All they’d felt for her was lust.
    W hat Rundan felt for her was...
    It was ...
    Well, what he felt was real, but it definitely wasn’t like that.
    Every day he’d spent in her company, Rundan had felt a growing sense of rightness. Like he finally had something in his life that was good.
    Realizing Solena was waiting for him, he cleared his throat again. “It’s not far from here,” he told her quickly, then he ducked his head to avoid hitting it on the low cave ceiling as he led the way out. They hiked down to the river, to a narrow place strewn with large boulders. He gripped her elbow as they crossed over, just to make sure she didn’t fall, he told himself, and not because he wanted to touch her.
    Long after they’d crossed to the other side, Solena glanced up at him with a question in her eyes. Realizing he was still holding her elbow, Rundan slowly dropped his hand to his side.
    “This way,” he whispered and slipped into the surrounding forest, where the trees grew thick and there was no path.
    “I thought you said it wasn’t far?” she whispered.
    Rundan thought he heard a twig snap uphill from them. He halted and held one warning finger to his lips. She nodded. They waited in silence. The air grew still and solid around them, quiet in a way only the forest can be at night, with just the sounds o f small animals rustling about. When Rundan was sure no one was tracking them, he gestured to Solena.
    They walked along in silence for an hour or more, just in case a soldier had strayed from the usual routes. Solena followed closely and Rundan could hear each time she took a breath and released it. He reached back, extending his hand to lead her over a bunch of gnarled roots. He felt his mouth go dry as her slim fingers