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  I writhe beneath him. “Get off!”

  I’m done, finished. I allowed him to mess with my head and it made me hesitate. Now that pause will cost me my life. I’m so angry with myself I can feel tears prickle in the corners of my eyes. I clamp them shut, waiting for him to kill me.

  But the blow never comes. Slowly, I crack one eye open. His face is inches from mine, his dark eyes watching me.

  “What are you waiting for?” I ask. “Do it. It’s embarrassing enough that I botched my first assignment, you have to make me suffer longer?”

  He releases a heavy, frustrated breath. “I’m trying to decide how to tie you to a tree.”

  “What?”

  “Well,” he says, shaking his head. “I have to do something to keep you from attacking me.”

  I squint my eyes, confused. “You’re not going to kill me?’

  “What—why?” He scoffs and releases my hands, sitting back on the balls of his feet. He plants his hands on top of his thighs. “What have I done to you?”

  I see my dagger just behind him on the forest floor. Before he can get another word in, I spring forward and tackle him, grabbing my dagger in the process. Then I hold it to his throat, my breath panting as I stare at him. There’s no fear or anger in his expression.

  “If I’ve done something that this is my fate, then do it,” he says. “But at least tell me my sins first.”

  I curse. What has this fool done? I have no answer for him.

  His eyes trace my face, and I’m sick with regret that I’m about to permanently shut them. I pull the dagger away from his neck and raise it, my hand trembling. He licks his lips, readying himself for my attack, and I can’t stop staring at their perfect curve against his chin. I sink my blade into the earth just above his head, bringing my face down at the same time and pressing my lips to his.

  For one shocked moment, he’s frozen—his lips firm against mine. Then they soften, matching my rhythm. He buries his hand in my hair, forcing our lips together hard.

  He cups the back of my head and rolls on top of me, his kiss deepening as the weight of him presses me into the ground. I wrap my arms around him, feeling his strained muscles through the fabric of his uniform. Then he pulls his face away, his eyes locked on mine.

  As I stare back at him, I know I never would’ve completed my mission. Damn. I hope that kiss was worth it.

  “I think we need to talk,” he says.

  I nod, my bun coming loose against the twigs. “Agreed.”

  Chapter 3

  We roam farther into the forest, away from the castle and in the opposite direction of the Rebel camp. The trees are thicker, and the moonlight splinters across the ground. As I walk—my arms hugging my waist—fear envelops my core. Uncertainty of my situation plagues me.

  Xander slows his pace as he glances over at me. “I’ve shut down my communicator,” he says, showing me the small silver device, then he slides it into the vest of his uniform. “So we won’t be tracked.”

  I nod. “You honestly don’t know anything about the Rebels?” I study his features, waiting to see his eyes shift—a muscle twitch. But he keeps his eyes trained on me, stoic.

  “No.” He looks down at the ground then back at me. “How is it I’ve never been informed?” He kicks a rock with his boot. “Because I’ve just been knighted?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe. All members of the Force are aware of us, though. Destroying us is their . . . your priority.”

  He slants his eyes at me. “As you can plainly see, it’s not mine. Though, you almost left me little choice.”

  “Ha!” I halt walking and spin toward him. “You were as good as dead back there.”

  He stops, too, facing me. “Yes, the ever-effective kiss your enemy to death tactic,” he says, a smile playing at his lips. “I have to admit, it’s my preferable way to die.”

  My face heats. “You didn’t seem to mind the approach. You probably would’ve let me end you back there if I’d allowed you to continue.”

  He laughs, then begins walking again, saying over his shoulder, “If I remember correctly, it was me who ended the kiss.”

  I open my mouth to retort, but he continues. “But if my demise comes at your lips, you’re correct. I’d probably welcome it.”

  My lips twitch as I try to keep from smiling. “And you call me mad.”

  Finally we come to a clearing and I stop, convinced we’re far enough away in either direction. Xander’s life is in danger, and now I have to take precautions, too. When Xander’s not reported dead—if my disobedience hasn’t already been reported—Micha will search. I have to come up with a plan, but my mind won’t allow me to think of anything other than why they wanted him eliminated in the first place.

  Xander leans against a tree, resting his hands on his hilt. “How many of you are there?”

  I take a deep breath. “Some—not many.” I shake my head. “I’m not sure, but there used to be more of us before I was born. My mentor says the Force and the Rebels battled, and the Rebels lost.” I look down. “After that, they went into hiding, and the truth of that battle was buried. A perfect Karm wouldn’t be perfect if its people knew we existed. Ever.”

  “So you stay hidden, waiting for . . . what?”

  I look up into his face. He looks lost, like I’ve just revealed his life is a lie. Which, I guess I did. “For opportunities to strike. Finding weaknesses in the system.” I shrug.

  “Why me?” he asks. “What could possibly come of . . .” He shakes his head.

  “I don’t know.” I come up beside him. “My mentor wouldn’t tell me. But . . . but there has to be something. They have to have a reason.”

  “But you’re different than them.” It’s a statement not a question.

  I tilt my head. “I guess I am.”

  “Because like me, you question. You want to understand and know the truth. You don’t just act on orders.”

  My eyes widen. “Did you dismiss an order? Or did you disobey—” I break off before my thought’s complete.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I say, frustrated. “That wouldn’t make sense. Dammit.”

  Xander repositions himself, shifting to lean on his other leg. “No, my breaking Force orders would be a plus for them, it would seem.”

  “Yes. Not a reason to have you killed.” I cringe when the word passes my lips. From the moment my eyes met his in the atrium, I knew the hit was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. And I now know something’s off, something isn’t right.

  “Whatever the reason, I can’t go back.” He sighs. “They kept me in the dark for a reason.”

  I nod once, my neck heavy with tension. “And now I’m in that same dark. And”—I close the gap between us—“I’m an outcast. They would as soon end me for not completing the mission.” I laugh hollowly. “Never mind that I’ve spilled all our secrets.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “Thank you for not killing me.”

  I smile. “You’re welcome.”

  “Still not admitting that I could’ve taken you?” He laughs, his deep voice vibrating in his chest.

  “Well, you’re welcome that I spared yours, as well.”

  “I would have—” My words are cut short by a snap in the forest. Xander’s arms tighten around me, pulling me to his side.

  A shadow moves slowly toward us, the figure cloaked by night and branches. When he emerges, my breath catches. A lump forms in my throat and I swallow it down painfully.

  “This couldn’t have worked out better,” says Larkin, a sword pointed at us. “I was supposed to do this earlier, but you were moving away from the castle. I decided to let you do the work for me.” He grins. “Hauling dead bodies is so much work.”

  “You?” I say. “Who are you?”

  Xander moves in front of me and unsheathes his sword. “Larkin.”

  I look between them. “You know him?” I ask Xander.

  He nods, never taking his eyes off his foe. “
He’s a knight of the Force. And he trained me.” He steps toward Larkin. “He’s my friend.”

  I’m more confused than ever. If the Rebels put a hit on Xander, why would another knight, especially one who trained Xander, want him—us—dead?

  Larkin steps to the side, beginning to circle. “To be fair, none of this was planned until today.” He shrugs. “You really are my friend. But I have orders.”

  “Why wasn’t I informed about the Rebels, Larkin?” Xander asks, inching closer to him. “Don’t you think that’s information I might have needed?”

  “And why aren’t you in a uniform?” I add. I danced with him and had no idea who he was. For some reason, this angers me more than him threatening me now.

  Larkin cocks his head, grinning. “I was given special privileges for the night,” he says to me with a wink. Then to Xander, “And I was ordered not to inform you.” He raises his sword higher.

  “Devlan arranged for you to be unknighted after Prince Sebastian’s betrothal.”

  “For what reason?” Xander demands.

  “You were found to have questionable beliefs.” Larkin sighs. “Honestly, Xander. You can’t go around spouting off at the mouth. Now,” he says, taking a step forward. “I’ve wasted enough time tracking you and answering questions. I need to kill you both and get back before I’m missed.”

  “Fallon,” Xander says my name softly. “Run. Go somewhere safe.” Then he takes off toward Larkin.

  “The hell I will,” I say, reaching for my dagger, then remember it’s on Xander. Damn. I gave it to him when he kept eyeing at it as we walked through the forest. I’m really the worst assassin ever.

  Their swords clang, and I watch the moonlight glinting off their blades as they slash, metal meeting metal. My chest tightens. I don’t have time to think, only act. I look around the forest floor and find a rock. Their shadowed figures move too quickly for me to get Larkin in my sights. Xander grunts as he strains against Larkin’s sword. I have to help.

  Xander bears up, pushing Larkin backward, but then Larkin punches Xander and he stumbles. Larkin slices his sword through the air. A scream catches in my throat as Xander dodges, falling to the ground, but he blocks the blade coming at him with his own. Then he kicks Larkin in the chest, doubling him over, giving Xander time to get to his feet.

  While Larkin is still bent at the side, I throw the rock, knocking his head sideways. Xander nails him in the back of his head with the hilt of his sword and Larkin drops to the ground. Xander lowers the point of his sword to his neck.

  “Whose orders?” Xander says, gasping.

  I race to his side, then grab my dagger from his belt. “I could’ve used this.” I eye him.

  He shrugs. “I’m capable.”

  “I see that,” I say. “I suppose my aim was of little use to you.” I smirk, then turn my attention toward Larkin, pointing my dagger at him. “He asked you a question. Whose orders are you following?”

  Larkin grabs the back of his head. “You know whose.” He looks between us, then stares at me. “You’ve been following them your whole life, Fallon.”

  My brows pinch together. “You’re a plant?”

  He nods. “And I was told to watch you tonight—make sure you succeeded.” A small smile forms on his face. “Fearless,” he scoffs. “You’re full of fear. Micha should’ve never taken you in.”

  Anger burns in the pit of my stomach. My mentor, the person I trusted more than anyone, sent someone to spy on me—not trusting that I’d complete my mission. And what’s worse? I have failed. I hang my head. But in my heart, I know I made the right choice. How could Micha do this? How could . . . No. Micha’s wrong. The Rebels have the wrong guy. Xander doesn’t know anything, and he’s not a threat to us.

  Xander glances at me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, pushing my anger down. Then I glare at Larkin. “Why does Micha want Xander dead?”

  Larkin doesn’t answer. I huff. “Tell us,” I snap.

  He releases a heavy breath. “I wasn’t privilege to that information.”

  I shake my head, disgusted. “You trained him. Spent time with him and were his friend,” I say. “How could you accept an order to kill him without being made to understand why?”

  “My oath,” he says flatly. Then his eyes cut through me. “The same reason you apparently did.”

  I want to correct him, say that I hadn’t known Xander when I’d accepted the mission. But as much as I want to defend myself, he’s right. I took Micha’s orders without question—what I was trained to do. My stomach lurches.

  Xander inches his blade closer to his throat. “What should we do with him?”

  I’m stunned for a moment that he’s asked me. I’m used to taking orders. I shake my head, clearing it further of the resentment I feel toward my mentor. “We can’t kill him,” I say, looking around. “But he can’t be left to track us. Take his belt.”

  After we bind his hands and feet together, Xander cuts a couple strips of fabric from Larkin’s tunic, using one to tie him to a root system he dug near a large pine. The other I tie around his head, gagging his mouth.

  “This won’t hold him forever,” Xander says. “We need a plan.”

  “I have one,” I say, looking down at the bound and gagged Rebel. “I’m going to Micha.”

  Xander cranes an eyebrow. “Your mentor. The person who wants us both dead.”

  “Micha has to know the truth, that you’ve done nothing to warrant a hit. I’ll make it clear—”

  “And they’ll let me walk away.” He shakes his head. “Despite the truth, I know who you are. I know who he is.” He points to the wiggling spy. “I know too much now. There’s no way I’ll walk away alive.”

  “We have to try,” I say. “There’s no alternative.”

  I turn to go, then pause. I’m about to take Xander—a member of the Force—into the Rebel camp. If he does this, there’s no going back for him. I turn around and take his hand in mine. “Xander, you have to make a choice.”

  “I know.” His thumb caresses the top of my hand. “And I’ve made it. I didn’t belong.” He cocks his head in the direction of the castle. “They knew it. I was being unknighted.” He forces out a breath. “As I watched the stars earlier tonight, I knew change was coming. I could feel it. And there you were.” His eyes bore into mine. “I’m staying with you.”

  I lace my fingers through his. “I wasn’t letting you out of my sight, anyway.”

  Chapter 4

  The Rebel camp is still. Tents scatter the deeply wooded grounds and campfires burn low, their embers barely lighting our path. At this moment, I’m a traitor. I’ve abandoned my mission, apprehended a fellow Rebel, and betrayed my mentor. Now, I’m giving away our hidden base to the enemy.

  Xander walks silently beside me. I need to discover what his place is in all this, and I need to convince Micha that I did the right thing. That they marked the wrong guy.

  As we near the center of camp, I see two guards posted at the entrance of Micha’s tent. We’ll never get by them without disturbing the whole camp. I tug Xander’s hand, nodding toward the woods. We have to sneak around.

  Stealthily, we circle the camp, making our way toward the back of the tent. Suddenly the crickets and sounds of the forest are too low, my breath is too loud, and I feel my every step is echoed throughout the camp. I have to be smart about this. If I walk into the tent, Xander in tow, I’ll bring on a fight before I can speak my mind.