The sun lowered, red as a winter fruit. The planting had ended when a Denese woman fell to the earth, her body jerking at the feet of an indifferent Ivan.

It happened every sewing. The falling. The fits. There would be more tomorrow, and even more the next. Earlier and earlier each day, Rina's people would fall, until the fields had been sewn and tiny green stalks reached for the heavens. Because the land knew their ancestors' crime. It remembered what Arkis had done to its cousins far across the seas, in a land now a barren desolation of parched earth and dry lake beds under a burning turquoise sky. This was their atonement.

Gulls screeched overhead. The sun chased the horizon, oblivious to the straggles of workers returning home. Even the Eurans slumped, their grey and brown homespun sagging from their frames. Almost obscured by the lengthening shadows.

But Rina couldn't rest. Ever since her encounter with Fin, her heart rate had increased. Now it raced, and energy streaked through her veins, forcing her limbs to move with brisk steps. Away from the red-roofed city that loomed above her. Away from the questions her aunt and uncle would ask.

She should be tired. Exhausted. Yet she felt like she could fly. Looking at the approaching cliff edge, she wondered if she could.

You're going mad. Of course, you can't.

The most powerful of the Magisterium levitated.

I'd drop like a filthy, Arkis-spawned Denese.

The air whooshed in and out of her lungs, and her mouth gasped like a bellow as she stood at the edge of the world, white cliffs and crashing waves below her, an enormous boat anchored out to sea. The wind howled. Flickers of light danced at the periphery of her vision.

She was hot. Too hot.

Her knitted sweater was gone before the thought entered her mind, left forgotten in the winter grass as she sprinted to the goats' track and scrambled down toward the shore. Once she got there, she'd run back up. That should wear her out enough to sleep.

Her ears roared. And so she didn't hear the pound of boots. Didn't realise she wasn't alone until a hand on her shoulder made her yelp. She shoved the figure away, palms pressed out before her.

Fin flew through the air and fell, landing in a patch of gorse. Moaning, he sat up with a wince, one hand to his lower back. Violet eyes pierced her. His other hand before him as if she were an unbroken mare.

"Easy! Easy there."

He pushed up, face scrunching, then let out a "Fucking hell!" and shook his hand.

Rina ran to him, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him up and onto the path. Head bent, she inspected his the skin of his palm, twisting it in the light until the thorn glinted. Tongue poking from the corner of her mouth, she used her fingernails to pluck it out.

"Why aren't you wearing your gloves?" she asked.

Fin's lips quirked. "Ah, well, it didn't seem fair, considering." His eyes flicked to her still-pink fingertips.

This struck Rina. Some Euran men were kind—in the way one was to a pet horse or dog. Olav treated her like she was human—but not an equal. This man, he was different.

She studied Fin. A slash ran across his high cheekbone, one ruby droplet budding.

Saliva pooled in her mouth at the view, and her stomach hollowed. Everything in her became hollow, aching to be filled. She leaned in and licked the drop away, realising a second later what she'd done and recoiling, even as her bones cried, More, more, more!

Before she could think, Fin's mouth was on hers. Cold and chapped from the wind. He claimed her in long, firm strokes, and she kissed him back, hands about his neck as she brought him closer.

A rock dug into her, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realised they writhed on the ground.

She nipped his bottom lip and tasted copper.

"Argh!"

The blood, combined with Fin's cry made something inside her roar.

More, she wanted more.

She pulled him tighter, her legs wrapping around his hips, bringing him to her, her awareness disappearing into heat and hands and teeth. Teeth that were at that pulse of Fin's neck.

"What the—?"

The world jolted, bumping about her. When it stilled, Rina opened her eyes to see Fin scurrying away, a smear of blood to the side of his mouth, his hand at his neck and the whites of his eyes popping.

"Wha—what happened?"

Fin just stared. Then she felt the thorns piercing her skin. She lay on a bed of yellow flowers and little green barbs.

"Don't move. I'll get you out!" He was shoving his shirt into his trousers, and red trickled down his neck.

Not breathing, Rina's eyes darted from Fin to the shrub, to her skirt—now up to her waist—to her stockinged legs exposed in the pale light. Her breath resumed, coming in rapid, shallow pants.

"I...I don't understand."

Fin inched to her. "Stay calm."

Stay calm? Was he insane? The air clouded in white puffs of condensation.

"What the hell happened?"

"It's okay. Don't panic. I'll get you out of here."

She let out a whimper as the world began to move again in a back-and-forth sweep. Anywhere but down. She could look anywhere but down.

A nutty fragrance arose as Fin trudged into the undergrowth, grunting and hissing. He hooked his arms under her armpits and hoisted her in one swift movement.

She sobbed as he set her down, clutching onto him until the world settled.

The Fin's hands moved across over her calves as he crouched before her, head tilted. All the blood in her body rushed into a hot pool in her core.

Then he spoke. "Shit!"

"Whaaaat?"

"You're covered in thorns."

With his words, she registered the itch. "Well...get them out!"

"I—how? I can barely see in this light, and..." He raised his hand to show her his chewed-down nails.

Fuck!

Dusk draped about them in a gossamer fog. The chalk cliffs glowed against the rocks and brush. There was nothing to be done here. Uma had tweezers at home—and if necessary, Rina could attend the medica, though Mai knew what she would tell them happened.

Her shoulders sagged. "I'd better get home, then."

The air hung heavy and frozen between them as they assessed each other. She clenched her fists to quell the urge to scratch.

Fins brows furrowed into gullies as he rose to face her. "I'll walk with you."

"You know that's not allowed."

"Just until the guard tower comes into sight. I'll wait for you to go through first."

She sighed, unable to face him. Her cheeks burned, and a metallic tang lingered on her tongue. Worst of all, she was aware of the thump, thump, thump of his lifeblood.

She sucked air through her teeth, fisted her hands and started back up the trail.

Fin moved with her, half a step behind. "So...has that ever happened before?" The left side of his mouth tugged up in a rueful smile as she caught his gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She needed to move and walked faster. Her ankle wobbling on a loose boulder and she almost fell, but he steadied her.

"It's not every day I literally make a woman bloom!"

She stopped and turned, hands crossed over her chest. "You didn't make me bloom. We fell into a gorse bush, and now I'm full of prickles."

Chestnut eyebrows lifted. "You grew that bush."

"You've lost your mind."

"I saw what you did in the field. You're—a miracle!"

Rina's throat convulsed, and she spun on her heels.

Footfalls followed her. "Don't worry—I won't tell."

"There's nothing to tell."

They came to the top of the cliff, where deepening shadows stretched across the grassland undulating between them and the city, making it near impossible to pick out potholes. The swirling green made swishing noises as they moved with careful treads.

Eventually, they came to the road, made a luminous white by the two moons and wended their way to the citadel, Fin with his hands in his pockets and kicking at stones, whistling a hollow tune.

A hundred meters from the entrance, Fin stopped and ducked behind a scraggly tree, his lean body blending into the encroaching darkness.

"Go. I'll follow when you're through the gates."

Rina hesitated a moment. The guards might question why they both returned late, in the cold and dark.

His lips curled in the gloom as he seemed to read her mind. "It's not exactly the weather for it, much as I'd love to." He pulled up his hood and wrapped his arms around himself, bouncing on the souls of his feet. "I could meet you somewhere warmer."

"Don't be an asshole!"

Fin smirked and made to move toward her, but she backed away, and he stilled.

Fire still coursed through her. She could almost see the life beneath Fin's skin. Sensed it under the layers of wool and leather he wore. The breath frosted between them and ice glimmered on the bark of the tree. Not the night for assignations...not in the open.

A memory of ebony eyes and whispered words came to her. Chest tight, she shook her head, trying to dislodge the image.

"Fine, but what will you say?"

Fin shrugged casually. "That this stinking, backwater city has made me claustrophobic, and I needed some fresh air to clear my head."

Against her will, she giggled. "It's not stinky."

His forehead folded, and in the twilight, his eyes widened.

"Perhaps around the stables."

The expression remained.

"Fine. It stinks—a little."

"The lady admits she's wrong. Praise be to Mai."

"Savour the experience. I don't think you'll come across it often."

Fin's chuckle pursued her like the mist as she walked briskly along the road towards Amador.

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A/N: Dear reader, thank you again for reading this story. I have recently made some changes to the background of the characters, and I am trying to smooth out any related inconsistencies. If you saw any, please let me know.  Don't forget to hit that star! (I won't harass you—you'll just have my gratitude and maybe a thank you on your wall).

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Dedicated to Dark_Writes for all your invaluable feedback and help through the RebelBC, and for writing such awesome stories, too.