“You got her naked.”
He looked away as the blood rushed to his face.
Harrow whistled. “You do move fast. And?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing. No scars.”
“But you were thorough?”
“As thorough as I could be.”
“So, you slept with her?”
“What? No.” The thought of it turned the flickering heat into a raging inferno. “No. We went swimming the other night.”
Harrow raised a skeptical brow.
“I looked,” Gideon growled. “I found nothing.”
“You said you went at night. How well could you see?”
“Harrow.”
“Gideon. This is a witch who’s escaped detection for two years now. She won’t keep her scars where anyone can find them. Did you look between her thighs?”
The thought of Rune’s thighs made him grind his palms into his eyes. “Stop.”
“Because if I were a witch hiding in plain sight, that’s definitely where I’d keep mine.”
Gideon groaned. “You’re killing me, Harrow.”
“You need to sleep with her.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
Of course he’d thought about it. It had physically hurt to turn down Rune’s invitation. The moment he got home, he’d gone straight into a cold shower, so he could stop thinking about it.
If they were truly courting, it’s all he’d be thinking about.
But they weren’t courting. Not really. So he needed to not think about it.
“It’s the only way to know for certain.”
“No,” he said again.
It was too far. A crossed line.
“If you were committed, Comrade,” said Harrow, crossing her arms, “if you truly want to catch your little Moth as badly as you say you do, you’d leave no stone unturned.”
He ran both hands roughly over his face this time, then through his hair, tugging on it.
“Come on, Gideon. With a face like that, it won’t be a chore.”
Gideon felt too many things at once. His chest knotted with frustration. His body ached with desire. Worst of all, he suspected Harrow was right. It had been dark when they went swimming. He’d looked at Rune from a distance. And he hadn’t truly inspected every inch of her.
The thought of doing so made him swallow hard.
If he wanted to know, without a doubt, whether Rune Winters was a witch, he would have to take this to the end of the line.
But could he live with himself afterward?
On the one hand, his brother might never speak to him again. On the other, if Rune was the Crimson Moth—and if the Moth was not only rescuing witches, but murdering Blood Guard soldiers and planning an uprising—Gideon had a responsibility to do whatever it took to find out. To stop her.
He growled low in his throat. “Fine.”
He remembered Rune pulling off her dress. The fabric sliding up her legs, over her hips, along her torso. Thought of her dropping the dress in the sand and peeling off her undergarments.
Feeling strangely breathless, he said, “I’ll do it.”
Once he knew for certain if she was innocent, he could proceed accordingly. If Rune wasn’t the Moth, nor in league with her, she posed no threat to Alex. In which case, Gideon would break off this courtship before things escalated further and point her toward the man who actually deserved her: his brother.
And if she is the Moth …
Flashes of memory shimmered like glass: Rune, wading naked through the water toward him. The soft give of her waist beneath his hand. The taste of her skin—like sea salt and soap.
But it wasn’t only her physical attributes that had him spin ning. It was her kindness. Her thoughtfulness. Her wildness. It was her willingness to argue with him.
If he wasn’t careful, he might fall in love with her.
Gideon started toward the door.
“If you have nothing else to report, I’ll take my leave.”
He was already running late.
“Nothing else,” said Harrow, falling into step behind him. “I’ll walk you out.”
The moment they walked out of his office and into the hallway, a soldier from his regiment strode toward them. Harrow leaned against the wall, keeping out of their way. At the sight of the young woman’s blanched face, Gideon stayed where he was.
“Captain.” The soldier halted before Gideon. “The Tasker brothers still haven’t reported for duty.”
“Still?” Gideon had thought it strange when he was first made aware of their absence earlier in the day. It wasn’t like them. The Taskers’ bloodlust for witches made them devoted soldiers. Gideon might despise their tactics, but their work ethic was top-notch.