Pressure built inside his chest, quickening his pulse. It was the same trapped feeling he got inside the cave, and it reminded him of how he’d felt when he’d walked into Vale’s room and found her missing. He’d carried that pressure around until the moment she’d come back.

“I want to forget it happened. I need to, Aria. You were poisoned right in front of me. You almost died. For a while there . . . I thought you’d really left me.”

“I left for you, Perry.”

“I know. I know that now. It hurt both of us, but we got through it. And we’re not damaged because of it. We’re stronger.”

“We are?”

“Sure. Look at us. We’re surviving our first fight . . . or second.”

Aria rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a fight and neither was yesterday.”

He smiled. “Now you’re scaring me.”

She laughed. It was a sparkling sound. A burst of brightness in the quiet of the woods. For the first time since he’d seen her running toward him, he relaxed.

Aria still held her hand against her side. He wanted to take it and kiss each one of her fingers, but he didn’t want to chance making her feel worse about her injury.

He stepped around her.

“Perry, what are you—”

He held her shoulders, keeping her from turning. “Trust me.”

He swept her hair behind her shoulders, feeling her tense in surprise. Then he combed it back with his fingers. He loved her hair. Black as onyx, steeped in her violet scent. Heavy as a blanket in his hands.

Reaching up, he tugged off the leather strap he’d used to pull his own knots back earlier, and tied her hair at the base of her neck.

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked.

“It’s, um . . . much better.”

Bending, he kissed the smooth skin just beneath her ear. “How’s this?”

“I don’t know. . . . Try again?”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, gathering her close. Ahead of them, the lights from inside the Hover filtered through the trees—her world, blending with his. “You really want me to talk?”

Aria leaned back, letting him take her weight. “Yes.”

“You’re going to hear a lot about my favorite subject.”

“Hunting?”

He laughed. “No.” He slid his hands to her hips, feeling muscle and solid bone, and then back up, over the curve of her waist. “Not hunting.” Every part of her drove him mad, and he told her so, whispering in her ear as she rested against him.

When she turned sharply to the woods, he knew she’d heard Roar and Brooke. It was time to go back, but he held on, keeping her there just a little longer.

“What brought you out here, Aria?” he asked.

She looked up, right into his eyes. “I needed to find you.”