“I want to remember her,” he confessed. “I want a reason to come home.”
“You will, even with your wall up. The mate bond will call you back, even if you can’t recall her face or form. And she’ll be able to sense you through the bite. She’ll know if you’re alive or dead, well or injured. It will be a comfort to her, and your family will keep her safe until you get back.”
Evrard felt like he’d turned to stone even though the night was still velvet-dark. He and Maggie shared no bite. They had no bond. Only a mossy-eared promise, one he’d made but couldn’t keep, to return. But no one would care for her in his absence. He did not leave her any comforts, not even a nest to sleep in.
The mead soured on his tongue. He couldn’t swallow another mouthful. He set down his goblet.
“I didn’t bite her,” he rasped. “I wanted to, but there was no time. It would have been—”
“Impulsive,” Brandt finished heavily. His blunt-clawed fingers flexed into a fist, as though it closed on something precious. “I understand. We are not that.”
Evrard was, though. The little amulet in his pocket mocked him for pretending otherwise. How could he claim any highperch when he had forced a connection with Maggie regardless of a bonding bite? “I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“But you should have. You did her no favors withholding it.”
“I ignored the impulse,” he admitted, feeling very half-wise. “I didn’t know whether she shared my regard. But I did not ask, and now it’s too late.”
Brandt grunted noncommittally. “Does she dwell here in Solvantis?”
“Brinehelm. Southeast of here. It’s by the sea.” Meravenna, where the Sixth Watch would join the other five, was inland to the southwest, amid grassy plains dotted with agricultural settlements, within easy flight of the foothills where the goblins made their nests. The opposite direction.
“Hm.” Brandt’s tail drew designs in the dust. Then he shooed an eavesdropping moth away from the nearest candle and ensured none of the other gargoyles were listening before speaking. “Our watch deploys tomorrow. I’ll put your swarm on the outer wing. After launch, you can divert from the formation and fly through Brinehelm to bond with her, then meet us in Meravenna. Don’t dally or you’ll be struck from the watch. I can only make excuses for so long.”
Hope spread its wings in Evrard’s chest.
Chapter 11
A Dangerous Bouquet
Maggie
Kaspar came to the door the next morning, a handful of prickly sea-holly stems clutched in his fist. He thrust them into Maggie’s hands when she opened the door. The thorns pricked her palms and her conscience. She’d begged on her knees for him, and now she had to go back on her word. Even though it was for the best, part of her felt guilty.
“Closest thing to flowers this time of year,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed by the half-hearted gesture. They both knew his visit had nothing to do with romance. “Came to speak with your da about amending theWolfhunter’sdeed.”
“He’s asleep,” Maggie lied, hoping to keep their conversation private. “But it doesn’t matter, anyway. We need to talk. I know I said that I’d welcome another proposal, but a lot has happened since then. I can’t in good conscience—”
“Your ma, then,” he interrupted, his eyes searched the darkened cottage interior behind her. He didn’t seem to have heard a single thing she said.
She stepped out of the cottage and closed the door, setting the dangerous bouquet on the porch rail. He reached for the door handle, and she moved to block it. “You’re not listening. I’ve had more time to think, and I believe it’s best if—”
Kaspar attempted to shoulder her aside. His expression darkened when she wouldn’t let him pass. “I’m not marrying you for your thoughts on every matter,” he snapped. “If you want to be a good wife, shut your mouth once in a while. It’ll cause trouble if you prattle on about every idea that pops into your head when I’m trying to conduct business. It’s wearing.”
She gave up on letting him down easily. “Fine, then. I’ll use short sentences so I don’t waste your time. Go away. I’m not marrying you.”
Kaspar’s eyes bulged at her defiance, his neck reddening. “Your father may have something else to say about that. Let me in.” He grabbed her shoulder, fingers digging in roughly, but she wrenched herself out of his grasp. He made a noise of frustration. “Your frigid little spinster act is getting old. You were begging on your knees for me yesterday.”
“That was yesterday. Things have changed.”
He froze, frowning. “Who will captain theWolfhunter, then? Gus? Johan?”
She shook her head. “Does it matter?Not you.”
“Is it Walther?!” he roared indignantly. “That smug son of a sea slug. I’ll be faefucked before I watch him steal my wife and sail my boat.”
“Better bend over, then,” Maggie said tartly, and took advantage of his few seconds of gobsmack to push him off the porch.Hiswife andhisboat, indeed.
Kaspar stumbled backward a few steps before righting himself. A thunderous expression swept over his face that destroyed any sense of satisfaction she’d been feeling at knocking him down a peg. “You’ll regret this, woman.”
