“But I—”

Gently, Dagan rubbed his thumbs down my cheeks. “Promise me. Please, I beg you. Do this for me. If you’ve ever loved me, do not follow me. Swear it on Kasha’s and Nanaea’s lives.”

His eyes were fierce, though his words and his touch were not. He’d never once asked me to swear. He was serious.

“I swear it.” He was his own person and could make his own choices.

He kissed me on the mouth with enough heat to melt the skin from my bones, and took off into the fields in a low crouch. I watched him go, a piece of my heart going with him, wondering if that kiss would be the last one I’d ever get.

“Listen, if I’d known Dagan could kiss like that, perhaps I would have tried to win his heart myself years ago.”

“You’ve seen us kiss plenty of times before, Iltani.”

“Not like that.” Iltani lay on her back, her knees in the air, not caring a whit that her backside was exposed for anyone to see. She picked the oblong berries off a stalk and crunched them raw between her teeth, likely to annoy me.

“And as I stated, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. None of us did. That boy has loved my sister since we were children.” Nanaea lay pressed down in the emmer, her black curly hair spread wide around her head. A cloud meandered over the waning moon, obscuring her face from my line of sight.

Chewing the skin around my thumb was doing nothing to quell my nerves. We hadn’t heard any shouting or screams, or even any commotion, but Dagan hadn’t yet returned.

It’s nearing time to leave.

I pushed up to my knees.

“What are you doing?” Nanaea whispered. “Someone will see you!”

But I ignored her, peeking over the tops of the emmer to catch a glimpse of the house. It was still, the flickering light in the back room snuffed out, the house barely illuminated by the torch in the front. I looked up at the clouds over the moon and cursed them to Alani for not letting me see. My heart in my throat, I sank into a squat.

Then I heard rustling.

It was fast. Swishing through the grain behind us. A deep voice rumbled.

Nanaea sat up, her eyes wide, but Iltani refused to move.

“Get up!” I fumbled in my healing satchel for my herb knife.

“I’d rather take my death lying down.”

Clutching the knife, I prepared to strike. To protect my sister at all costs.

The swishing grew louder, and at once, a man was upon us.

“Kammani!” Dagan’s whisper cut through the night, and relief coursed through my veins.

“You terrified us!” I whispered, my heart pounding.

He eyed my knife, and I tucked it into my satchel and hugged him tightly.

“Is all well?” Nanaea stood, hands on hips, her eyes round in the moonlight. “How is Shep? Your ummum? The other brothers? Did the guardsmen see you?”