In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

15. Leo

15

Leo

I t was her. The Alchemist from that night. The girl with the spell that leveled a fully grown snow leopard Shifter.

I wracked my thoughts for why she would be here , of all places, when I remembered—she’d been traveling in one of the palace’s carriages that night. That meant she was either a highly regarded spectator, a challenger herself, or family to someone involved.

Her skin was warm beneath her black clothing as I reached out to steady her. Dark hair was pulled back into a braid, small tendrils breaking free and framing her sharp cheekbones. What gave me pause was the sheen of sweat on her olive features, the dilated pupils, the shaking hands.

I knew I didn’t have time for this. I wasn’t even supposed to be here, especially after the conversation at the Drakin’s Lair last night. Rissa could tell how irritated I was that they’d chosen someone else for the task, and she more than likely expected me to do something rash. If my sister caught word I’d disobeyed her and snuck in to search for evidence of Gayl’s Grimoire, she’d wring my neck.

But something was obviously wrong .

“Are you alright?” I asked, turning her body so we were out of sight from anyone coming up the stairs.

Her eyes snapped to mine, recognition dawning before she closed them and slumped against the stone wall. The sight was so at odds with the fearsome Alchemist from the other night, whose green pools had blazed with dark, cold fire when facing those Shifters.

“I’m fine. I just…need a minute,” she said, her voice softer than I remembered.

I didn’t have a minute. I could hear voices coming from the other end of the hall, far too close for comfort. If the emperor discovered I was here, it could jeopardize our entire plan and put my sister and myself in grave danger.

A frustrated noise built in the back of my throat. I glanced to my left before taking her by the elbow and leading her to a nearby alcove, hidden by a large woven tapestry.

“Here,” I said. “Nobody will bother you.”

“Why did you help me?” she asked suspiciously, her face slowly regaining color.

My brow furrowed. “You look like you need help.”

She shook her head. “I mean the other night. In the forest. That was you, wasn’t it? What were you doing there?”

So, she did recognize me. I carefully considered my words. “I suppose you looked like you needed help then, as well.”

Footsteps sounded from the other side of the tapestry, and we both instinctively took a step further into the wall, her chest brushing against mine as she held her breath. This close, I could feel the anxious heat coming from her in waves, the scent of florals and something earthy reaching my nose when she turned her neck to look at me.

The air was heavy, neither of us willing to breathe as the voices lingered mere feet from where we hid. Her pupils had finally gone back to normal, but slight tremors still flowed through her body. When she swallowed, I involuntarily tracked the movement before flicking my attention to the tapestry. I could no longer see outlines of boots beneath, nor hear voices of guests passing by.

To be sure they had truly left, I opened up the Shifter half of my blood like one would open a door, listening to them retreat further down the stone stairwell.

I instantly realized my mistake.

With my Shifter senses, her sweet scent of lavender and sage mixed with earthy undertones of amaranth—the same herb I smelled that night in the forest—was infinitely stronger, drawing me in and slowly wrapping around me like smoke. The erratic beat of her heart was heightened in my ears, the pulse at her neck thrumming with life as she took a shallow breath, her eyes shifting back to me.

“I think they’re gone,” she whispered. Her words fanned across my cheeks, breath hot against my skin.

I hesitated before nodding, quickly slamming a wall up on my Shifter instincts. Still, neither of us moved.

“What were you running from?” I asked.

“What were you hiding from?” she countered.

The corner of my mouth twitched. “I’ve helped you twice now. You first.”

Her lips pursed as she leaned further away from me. I fought the urge to curve my body toward her in response. “I didn’t ask for your help either time, you know.”

My eyes widened slightly. Stubborn, this one . “Most people say ‘thank you’ when someone saves their life.”

“Yes, most do,” she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear before turning and pushing back the tapestry.

“I hope you can get away from it,” I murmured before she was out of sight. She looked back at me, a question in her gaze. “Whatever it is you’re running from.”

She blinked twice, her eyes flitting between mine like she wasn’t sure what to make of me. “Thank you for helping us that night,” she finally said. “I—I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“I don’t know if I believe that. You were holding your own there, if I remember correctly.”

The woman faced me fully, features lit with suspicious curiosity as her arms crossed over her chest. The motion drew my attention to her curves, to the way her black shirt hugged her body where it met the top of her tight leggings, before I forced my stare upward.

Get a grip, Leo . Fates, I didn’t even know this woman’s name. I needed to get back to Rissa and the others.

“Why were you in those woods, anyway?” she repeated her earlier question.

I glanced down the hallway, expecting more passersby to appear at any moment. “It’s the Decemvirate,” I answered, my tone low and hurried. “You weren’t the only one who needed help that night.”

To my surprise, she snorted. “Some sort of vigilante, then? Trying to be everyone’s hero?”

Something clicked against the hard floor nearby, and I stepped closer to her. “I never said I was a hero.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you?—”

I pressed my hand to her lips, silencing her. “Someone’s coming,” I murmured, close enough that my nose brushed the top of her head. She went stiff beneath my touch, her breaths shaking in an attempt to stay quiet. Slowly, I felt them even out, matching with mine as her body began to relax. Her nearness sent warmth coursing through me. I couldn’t seem to remove my gaze from hers, even as the tapping of heels on stone faded away.

I saw so much in those emerald eyes. Ferocity, caution, pain, loneliness. The guarded expression of someone forced to build a wall, suddenly stripped bare by a stranger in a dimly lit corridor.

Removing my hand from her skin, I swallowed, silently chiding myself for getting in this position. I’d almost been spotted not once, but twice . I should be out of the palace and halfway back to my family’s cottage by now .

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not supposed to be here?” she asked, a bit breathlessly.

“And here I was, thinking I was being subtle.”

She cocked her head, unamused. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Wolff!” a familiar voice shouted, coming from the stairs. She jerked her head toward it, her eyes widening.

I cursed under my breath. That sounded like Horace, and if he knew I was here, he would tell my sister in a heartbeat. Pulling the hood of my cloak over my head, I quickly backed away and disappeared down the hall before she could say anything else.