He waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it. Thocero’ll fix me up soon.”
The infirmary was quiet now, save for the rustle of sleeping soldiers at the far end and the soft splash of water as Tia worked in the corner. Her back was turned, but her tense posture betrayed she was listening.
“We leave in the morning,” Katell said, breaking the silence.
“So I heard.”
There was no need for a formal goodbye. They would see each other again soon—either in Achaea or, at the latest, in Kisra. Still, it felt strange to leave behind the makeshift family she’d made for herself over the past months.
“When we meet again,” she said with a soft smile, “I hope to see you on your feet and ready for battle, soldier.”
Larth gave her a crooked wink. “Laran be with you, Katell.”
“And with you.”
She gave him a final, earnest nod before turning away, the weight of parting settling on her shoulders. She needed to gather her things and prepare.
She stepped into the cold morning air when Tia’s sharp voice cut through the chill.
“Katell, wait!”
The Southern Beauty emerged from the infirmary, her thin cloak flapping against her shivering frame. The determined look on her face stopped Katell in her tracks.
“I just wanted to say…” Tia began, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to hold back more than the cold. “Be careful out there. And thank you… for coming after me.”
The unexpected sincerity caught Katell off guard, leaving her blinking in surprise. “It’s Larth you should be thanking,” she said at last. “Make sure you take good care of him.”
A fleeting, almost guarded smile flickered across Tia’s lips. “I will.”
With a final nod, Katell turned on her heel and trudged back towards her tent, already thinking of the long journey ahead. At least she’d soon be out of the miserable cold.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KATELL
Katell sat alone in the quiet hush of her tent, the canvas walls faintly rustling with the wind. The hearth burned low, casting flickering orange light across the room, shadows dancing over the packed saddlebags by the entrance.
Everything was ready for her departure in the morning. All that was missing was Dorias.
He had missed dinner, but he’d arrive soon. He always did.
Not wanting to waste time, Katell stepped behind the partition to her sleeping quarters and slid her tunic from her shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the ground. A chill swept over her bare skin as she stood unclothed in the dim light, waiting.
A moment later, the tent flaps snapped open, ushering in a rush of cold air. Dorias stepped past the partition, all shadow and command, the night still clinging to his cloak.
He halted, his eyes catching on the discarded tunic on the rug, then her naked body in the half-light.
Katell raised an eyebrow, perfectly calm. “You’re late.”
“I came as soon as I could.” His voice was hoarse, roughened by cold and something deeper. “What if someone else had walked in?”
She shrugged, unbothered. “Then someone else would’ve gotten an eyeful.”
He crossed the space in two strides, a growl low in his throat, and seized her mouth with his. The kiss was fierce, stealing the breath from her lungs. His hands, still chilled from the night air, dragged across her skin as if he meant to brand her with touch alone. Fire leapt in her veins, each nerve sparking to life like struck flint.
She helped him shed his armour with practised ease, each strap quickly unbuckled. The moment it fell to the floor, he hauled her against him, gripping her bare thighs and lifting her in one smooth motion. She locked her legs around his hips, and he pressed her back to the central tent pole, the canvas shifting slightly around them.
She gave him a breathless smile. “We’ll make the whole tent shake again like last time.”
