The Burn (A Runner Series Companion)

Chapter 8: Lara

204 A.B.

(5 years before the Runner's Rebellion)

"Do you remember when I first brought you here?"

I smile, extending my hand and letting him pull me up onto the roof.

"Of course." It's windy up here and the cool night air causes goosebumps to rise on my skin. I release Frye's hand and pull my shawl more securely around my shoulders. "How could I forget?"

That was the night he was arrested. The night we shared our first kiss. That fateful night was when I finally realized that there was more to this scrappy, arrogant boy than I first believed.

But that night was over as soon as it began. Frye leapt from the roof to intervene on a tussle in the market, saving his sister, Kay, from the Palace guards and getting himself arrested in the process. He was shipped off to fight in the Wastelands soon after but that didn't stop us seeing one another. We would relish any stolen moment we were granted when he was back in the City on military leave, each time reaffirming our promises to one another.

I watch him now, his bright hair mussed by the breeze as he reclines on the raised ledge of the roof, perfectly comfortable. He sees me shivering and moves closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and drawing me to him. I allow myself to lean against him, breathing in his scent and feeling my heart take flight.

He's home for good. After a year spent in paralyzing fear over his safety, I can scarcely believe that he's mine to hold indefinitely. His year of service is up and he's been honourably discharged. That isn't to say that my dear Frye has made it through unscathed; a year spent fighting those savage Wastelanders has caused permanent lines to scar his young face, marring his brow and shadowing his mischievous green eyes. There is something else, as well. Some of that old, familiar spark has dimmed. That laughing, teasing boy who pursued me relentlessly, dragged me to the rooftops and enfolded me in the warmth of family... that boy has changed. The things he has done and the things he has seen have altered him, doused some of the fire that I loved so well.

It doesn't matter. I will bring him back. Together, we will get through this. There is no longer a war to keep us apart.

I feel his arm tighten around me and nestle into the crook of his shoulder, smiling up at him and feeling a delicious warmth spread through me as he brings his lips to mine.

What's past is past. There is nothing ahead of us but time.

* * * * *

Two nights later

There is a terrific pounding against my front door.

I groan, sitting back in my chair and rubbing my eyes. The light has dimmed and I struggle to make out the piece of parchment laid out on the table before me. I was so engrossed in my painting that I failed to notice how late the hour had grown.

The knock sounds again, more urgently this time.

I frown, rising to my feet and making my way across the floor of my ramshackle, one-room flat. Who could be calling at this hour?

I flatten my palm against the solid wood door. "Who is it?"

"It's me. It's Kay. Please, let me in."

"Kay?" I struggle with the lock, pulling the pin aside and opening the door a crack. Frye's little sister all but falls against me, her thin frame trembling violently.

My heart gives a warning lurch of dread. I pull her to me, using my one, free hand to push the door closed and lock it. Kay's green eyes, so like her brother's are wide, wild. Seeing and unseeing, frantic and terrified.