The night air was cool against Han Shān's skin, but his blood felt like it was boiling.
He walked quickly, his long strides eating up the distance between the central fire and the tree line, forcing Bai Yue to jog to keep up.
He didn't look back. He couldn't. If he looked at her now, after what he had said in front of the elders, he might do something irreversible.
He stopped finally at the edge of the clearing, where the shadows of the ancient trees swallowed the light from the village fires. He turned then, his back to the safety of the dark forest, facing her.
Bai Yue stood there, chest heaving slightly from the brisk walk, her eyes wide and violet in the moonlight. She looked small. Fragile.
Yet she was the center of the storm that had nearly destroyed the tribe's sanity today.
