Child of Darkness-L-D-2
tunnel where they could run. And he pulled his knife, a wicked, curved thing, from under his shirt. They ran until they were out of breath, until her legs ached and her wings strained at their binding, as if arguing with her that flying would serve her better. She forced herself onward, until she could no longer stand it, and collapsed to her knees, her breath coming from her in loud, frightened sobs.
    Fenrick knelt at her side, and tossing his knife away, put his arms around her. “It’s all right. We’re safe,” he assured her between panting breaths. “It’s all right.”
    He kissed her hair, held her head to his chest, kept her close to him. All she had to do was catch her breath, and tilt her face up….
    When she did, he kissed her, hard and furious, as if he could expel all her fear and exertion of their flight by channeling it into himself. And she melted under his mouth, his tongue. Melted into him.
    She pushed her hands under his shirt, found the blue-black skin beneath warm under her fingers.
    “You’re shaking,” he said against her mouth, and he reached for the ties of her shirt. She caught his hands, her heart thumping hard. “Did you hear that?”
    “I didn’t hear anything.” He leaned to kiss her again, trying to shrug aside her hands, but she resisted him and climbed to her feet warily.
    Down the tunnel, where a shaft of light from another, intersecting route pierced the darkness, something moved. Cerridwen thought of Wraiths and the destruction they could wreak.
    “What are you afraid of?” Fenrick asked, an edge of impatience in his voice. It was not a Wraith. It bobbed as it moved, as though it were walking. The Wraiths glided above the ground…. At least, that was what she had heard.
    “I am not afraid of anything,” she stated boldly.
    He rose to his feet and pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it aside. “Then come here, if you aren’t afraid.”
    She looked away, for although she could not see his, he would be able to read her expression in the dark. And she spied his blade on the ground.
    She stooped to grab it and walked slowly down the tunnel, toward whatever the creature was that continued toward them.
    “Cerri, what are you doing? Come back,” Fenrick called.
    The creature in the shadows halted.
    “Cerridwen?”
    Her heart lurched in her chest at the familiar voice.
    “Cerridwen? The Royal Heir?” The creature stumbled closer, two spots of angry red light forming in the darkness, where his antennae would be. “Is that you?”
    He stumbled close enough to see her, and she looked over her shoulder for Fenrick. He was invisible in the darkness, or maybe he’d left her there. She hoped that he’d left. She did not wish for her game to be given away so soon, just as things were becoming interesting between them.
    Cedric gripped her by her arms and shook her, nearly knocking the knife from her hands.
    “What are you doing here?” he shouted, his hands crushing painfully. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this area is?”
    Now, she knew that Fenrick had gone. He would not have let someone lay his hands on her this way. She pushed Cedric back. “How dare you!”
    “I should do worse,” he threatened, coming a step closer, looming over her. She laughed, tried to make it sound as scathing and bitter as she had heard from Courtiers.
    “No, I mean how dare you follow me here, like my mother’s obedient dog! How dare you show yourself such disrespect!”
    “Your mother?” he asked, his expression suddenly confused.
    Something mean and vicious blossomed in Cerridwen’s chest. “Yes, my mother. She’s sent soldiers here to find me. Her soldiers, into the Darkworld. And you…you didn’t know?”
    “If I had, be assured I would not have let it happen.” He grabbed her arm again, and pulled her toward the crossing of the tunnels.
    “You didn’t know, and you didn’t know to come look for me,” she accused. It made more sense, now. Why he’d been so surprised
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