Chapter Text
Carson didn’t wait to finish her drink. The moment the thought settled in her mind—*I need to find her*—her body moved before she could second-guess herself. She pushed away from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the wooden floor, drawing a sharp glance from Maybelle.
“You sure you wanna do that?” Maybelle asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.
Carson hesitated only for a second. “I just need to talk to her.”
Maybelle sighed, shaking her head. “Then I suggest you move fast. She’s not one to linger once she’s made up her mind.”
Carson was already moving toward the door, her boots heavy against the tavern floor. The morning air hit her like a splash of cold water, shocking her senses awake. The sun had fully risen now, casting long shadows across the street. The town was beginning to stir—shopkeepers setting up their stalls, farmers leading carts of goods down the dirt paths. But Carson had eyes only for the road leading out of the village, the same path Greta had taken.
She saddled her own horse in record time, hands moving on instinct despite the dull throb in her skull. The events of the night before were still disjointed, flashes of Greta’s smirk, her touch, the taste of wine on her lips. A part of her wanted to shake off the memories, to pretend it was nothing more than a drunken night. But another part—one she wasn’t ready to name—told her otherwise.
She spurred the horse forward, guiding it out of the village and into the open road. The wind tugged at her loose shirt—Greta’s shirt, she realized belatedly. It smelled faintly of her, of something wild and untamed, and Carson clenched her jaw as if that would keep the thoughts at bay.
The tracks were still fresh in the damp earth, leading into the woods. Greta wasn’t pushing for speed, which meant Carson could still catch up—if Greta wanted to be caught. The thought sent an uneasy thrill through her. What if this was a test? A game? Another challenge whispered in the dark?
The trees closed in around her as she followed the winding path. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting shifting patterns of gold and green. Carson focused on the trail, the steady rhythm of hoofbeats beneath her, the tension coiling in her chest. She didn’t know what she would say when she found Greta. She just knew she had to.
Then, up ahead—a flicker of movement. A horse, dark against the dappled light. And a figure, dismounted, standing near the edge of a small clearing.
Carson slowed, heart hammering. Greta hadn’t gone far after all.
She approached cautiously, guiding her horse forward until she was close enough to make out the relaxed set of Greta’s shoulders, the way she absently toyed with the leather straps of her saddle. As if she’d been waiting.
“You ride fast for someone nursing a hangover,” Greta said without turning around.
Carson swung off her horse, boots sinking into the soft earth. “And you leave fast for someone who spent all night—” She stopped herself, unsure how to finish that sentence.
Greta turned then, lips curling into that infuriating smirk. “What? Flirting with you?”
Carson exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. “That depends. Was it just flirting?”
Greta’s gaze flickered, something unreadable passing over her expression. She took a slow step closer, closing the space between them. “What do you remember?”
Carson swallowed. *Too much. Not enough.*
The warmth of Greta’s breath against her cheek. The press of fingers against her wrist, guiding her hand somewhere it shouldn’t have lingered. The way Greta had looked at her—like she was a puzzle she was just dying to take apart.
Carson squared her shoulders. “Enough to know you didn’t say goodbye.”
Greta tilted her head, considering. “You didn’t seem like you wanted one.”
Carson clenched her jaw. “That’s not the point.”
Greta hummed, amused. “So what *is* the point, knight?”
Carson didn’t know. She just knew that standing here, looking at Greta, feeling this pull between them—it was dangerous. And she didn’t care.
Greta studied her for a moment longer, then reached out, fingers brushing over the fabric of the shirt Carson still wore. “Kept it, huh?”
Carson shivered at the touch. “Didn’t exactly have a choice.”
Greta’s grin widened. “I don’t know. Looks good on you.”
Carson was suddenly, painfully aware of the space between them. Too close, yet not close enough. Her breath hitched when Greta leaned in just slightly, eyes dark with something Carson wasn’t sure she was ready to name.
“You’re trouble,” Carson murmured.
Greta’s lips barely ghosted over her jaw. “And you like it.”
Carson should have stepped back. Should have said something, anything to break the spell. But she didn’t. Instead, she let herself sink, just for a second, into the fire Greta was so willing to offer.
Then, just as quickly, Greta pulled away, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Catch me if you can, knight.”
And before Carson could react, Greta was on her horse, kicking up dust as she sped down the forest path, laughter trailing behind her like a challenge.
Carson cursed, her pulse roaring in her ears.
*Oh, I will.*