“No, I swear it.” Cal steps beside me, his shoulder brushing mine as he takes in my creations. “I found out when you did.”
My magic screams at me to believe him, and it’s that feeling that forces me to push him further. I need to know if I can trust this new, seemingly depthless magic not to lead me astray.
“The soldier that stopped you when we rode into Gathe. What did he tell you?”
Cal’s head moves on a silent swivel, surveying the courtyard and the windows that overlook it. He grabs my arm and pullsme to where two hedges meet, the corner providing the perfect shield against prying eyes.
“He told me that Marks is mobilizing troops. Not a lot, but enough to make a statement. Enough to remind the people who is really in control.”
Cal offers the information easily, leaving me room to ask the question that will solidify his trustworthiness. It’s information that he can’t possibly know I have, courtesy of soldiers with too loose lips.
“To where?” I ask.
“Topaz,” he replies without hesitation.
In a world of politics and strategy, truth is rarely offered so freely and openly, even amongst allies. He pulls me into his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head as if he can absorb me into him if he holds on tight enough.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Ivy. If you?—”
“Is this when you beg me to go back to Emerald?” I ask against the black wool that covers his expanse of muscles. “Tell me all about your orders and what’s in my best interest?”
“What?” Cal drops his hold on my head, pulling back to look me fully in the face. Silver lines the edges of his gray eyes, full of shock and hurt. “You think I would do that? Fuck his orders! The only person who commands me is you.”
“Until I ask you to do something you disagree with,” I scoff.
“What have I done to give you the impression that I would do anything other than whatever you asked of me?” Cal’s voice is gruff and agitated. “Turning back never crossed my mind. But do you know what did, princess? Setting up a meeting with an informant so you can know exactly who’s warming your chair back home. You need to go to Amale, but you also need to know that your people are safe. Look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m wrong.”
I swallow the thick knot that attempts to fully block my airway. His pain shoots out like an arrow piercing through the membranous layer of numbness that covers me. And as his forehead bends to rest against mine, the last of that protective shield slips away. I feel it all; our shared anguish, grief, and sorrow is depthless. Our hold on each other may be the only thing keeping us both afloat.
“Can we trust him?” I ask on a breathy exhale, trying to hold in the tears that prick at my skull.
“We?” He pauses, waiting to see if I walk my word choice back again, waiting to see if it was unintentional. When I don’t, a soft smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.
“Yeah, princess. We can trust him. But I need you to stay here, out of sight. We can’t risk word getting to Marks that I’m doing anything other than gathering intel for what I might encounter in Emerald. We’ll give him a day’s head start and leave in the morning.”
Even if Marks didn’t have magic, he has the full force of the Corinthian military at his command. I don’t like staying behind, and I don’t like staying here longer than necessary, but Cal is right. We need the element of surprise on our side.
“Kieran rode off with Marks and rumor has it that Charles Rollins is sleeping off a hangover from hell, so you don’t have to worry about them bothering you while I’m gone.”
“It’s Rollins who should be worried about me,” I scoff. “Both of them.”
Cal’s thumb brushes across the tiny cut across my throat where Kieran held the dagger. The magic that usually flutters when his skin touches mine bursts into an explosion of light and sensation. His fingers tremble against my skin, a signal that our experience is shared.
I don’t know who moves first, but when our lips crash together, the kiss is consuming. Neither of us able to fight thegravitational pull of the other. Cal’s magic mixes with mine in a cocktail that could intoxicate even the most powerful of the gods. Every inch of me vibrates with the sensation, every nerve ending alighting with power. From the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes, I am electric and thirst for more. He is an oasis in a desert and I drink him in.
Cal breaks the kiss, breathless and tense. Conflict is written across his features, clearly torn about his next move. Something hovers on the tip of his tongue and I decide to put him out of his misery.
“Go,” I command. “Get information that we can use and come back to me.”
He plants one last kiss to my forehead before stepping away.
“On one condition,” he jokes as he retreats. “Try not to turn the entire manor into a greenhouse while I’m gone.”
CHAPTER 24
The halls of the manor are eerily quiet. All of the servants are occupied with cleaning the ballroom from last night’s revelry, tidying up guest rooms now vacated with the envoy’s departure, or hiding after Marks’ little power display in the dining room this morning. I climb the stairs, eager to retreat to the quiet, comforting escape of my silk-laden bed, when something stops me.
A magical, invisible rope wraps itself around my sternum and yanks. I dig my heels into the ruby runner that lines the floor in a futile attempt to resist. But its message is clear: follow the call or rip in two.
