Jarryn didn’t respond immediately, but Leander did not miss the way his head turned and his piercing blue eyes examined the demigod. “Maybe we’ve moved past that… Leo.”
Chapter Eighteen
The wind howled through the trees as the sky darkened, clouds heavy with the promise of rain. Leander pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, urging his horse forward. Beside him, Jarryn rode silently, his mouth set in a hard line as they made their way through the forest. The day had been filled with enough trials for the pair, no more so than for Jarryn, who was still reaching over to hold his side every so often and the brewing storm threatened to complicate everything for the pair of them.
Entering the winter season, the demigod was just glad it was rain—and not snow—that threatened them tonight.
For his part, Leander watched Jarryn with growing concern, worried that his injuries were worse than he had originally assessed, and certainly worse than Jarryn was letting on. They had managed to get him back on his horse, but his position was precarious at best.
Leander felt as though he was waiting for the prince tolose consciousness and fall off his horse. Perhaps he was catastrophising a little, but the fear was there.
“We need to find shelter,” Jarryn muttered, glancing up at the swirling clouds, which were growing more and more ominous by the minute. “Or we’re going to get caught in this storm, and it doesn’t look as if it’s going to pass quickly.”
Leander shot him a look, eyes narrowed. “I’ve noticed. If I had stayed with the others, you would be still in that godsforsaken ravine, a victim to the elements. As well as your own folly.”
“Luckily, you are my rescuer…. which I am very grateful for.” Jarryn clenched his jaw, irritation flaring just below mental shields that Leander knew were becoming more challenging for him to keep erecting.
“I thought you didn’t believe in luck, Your Highness,” Leander quipped.
“Luck isn’t the issue. I don’t believe in it, just in the power of low expectations.”
Leander opened his mouth to respond when the first drops of rain began to fall, and it wasn’t long before it quickly turned into a torrential downpour. Within moments, they were soaked through. The horses snorted, their hooves struggling in the quickly muddying path.
“There!” Leander pointed ahead through the sheets of rain. A small, dilapidated barn stood at the edge of a clearing, half-hidden by the surrounding trees. “Better than nothing.” Squinting in the dark, Leander didn’t think it would offer much protection, but there was nothing else for it.
Jarryn nodded, spying it too as he followed Leander’spointing finger to the space through the trees. “It will have to suffice.”
They pushed the horses toward the shelter. By the time they reached the barn, the storm had turned fierce, thunder rumbling overhead as lightning split the sky.
Inside, the barn was dark and smelled of damp wood and hay. It had clearly been abandoned for some time, Leander decided. Jarryn dismounted with a grunt, his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. The dismount was a quick one and he doubled over in pain.
Leander followed, and was instantly at Jarryn’s side. “Sit down.”
Once Jarryn sat on an old wooden box in the corner of the barn, Leander turned to the horses, guiding them both into another, also sheltered, corner before pulling off his soaked cloak.
“Not exactly royal accommodations,” Jarryn muttered, dragging his hand through his hair in an attempt to remove the water from it.
Leander shot him a sidelong glance. “We’ll manage.” Once happy the horses were secured and comfortable, he returned to sit on the floor next to Jarryn, pulling his knees up and resting his elbows on them. “You’re telling me you’ve never slept rough?”
“Oh, I’ve been on more than enough week-long hunts in my time to have enjoyed sun, rain, and snow. Precipitation is the best for building morale and camaraderie.” Jarryn replied in a falsely jovial tone.
They sat in silence for a moment, the sound of rain hammering against the roof now the only noise between them.
Leander wondered if what remained of the roof would hold, it didn’t look like the rotting wood would survive the beating of rain upon it. Then again, it had probably stood for decades: one more night would not be its undoing.
Jarryn shifted uncomfortably, trying to wring out the edges of his tunic.
Leander had his back against the wall with forearms crossed as he bowed his head forward to rest it on his arms. “I fucking hate rain. And thunder is even worse.”
“Isn’t your own mother the deity of storms?”
“Yeah, so?”
“… Nothing.” Jarryn shrugged, then winced, and Leander felt his frustration bubbling up once more. Obviously, he was in more pain than he was letting on. Leander prayed that there weren’t any more sinister injuries. “We’d be caught in the storm no matter what we did. Here, there, with the others still on the hunt, it doesn’t matter. But go on, blame me if it makes you feel better.”
“It’s not about blame, Jarryn,” Leander replied, his voice calm. “It’s about thinking ahead. Sometimes you just don’t consider the consequences.”
Jarryn’s eyes flashed. “Please don’t speak to me of actions without thought. You seem to be forgetting that I found you pinned to a wall about to be beaten bloody and senseless because you had more alcohol than blood in your veins. You have proven time and time again that you don’t have the good sense to look after yourself. No self-preservation whatsoever, really. It’s sad.”
