Captive: A Guard's Tale from Malachi's Perspective Page 3

  Even deeply asleep, seemingly helpless, she…wasn’t. That promise was still there — the promise of war. She would defend herself. She would not be easily intimidated. He backtracked to his chair in the corner again, needing to get some distance from her. He rested his elbows on his knees and breathed deeply, still able to detect her scent in the air.

  Looking at her, he couldn’t help but think of the forest again, of the longing that consumed him every time he went to the roof, the soaring feeling as he imagined himself flying over that wall, over the trees, free. Here it was, the same tug at his heart, the same swooping feeling in his gut. But like the forest, this girl was not his to touch. He could watch from a distance, but he couldn’t reach it…or her. To his horror, he realized he wanted to.

  He growled and hung his head. “She is your enemy until she proves herself otherwise. She is nothing to you but a prisoner. One who might have information.”

  But as he raised his head to look at her again, he knew. No matter what happened now, no matter who she turned out to be, something had shifted inside of him. He could feel it in the uncertain rhythm of his heart, the unfamiliar heat in his blood, the snap of tension in his muscles, the strange clutter in his normally ordered thoughts.

  Nothing would ever be the same.