“SoIcan be ready.” He searched her face. “So many secrets are hidden behind those bright eyes of yours…” His attention dropped to her mouth. “How do I get these lips to tell me them?”
The tension that had flooded the air now crashed down upon her. The world collapsed inward. Eira inhaled slowly, suddenly aware of how close he was, how keenly she could smell the dust of the arena mingling with his sweat. She could sense the power that radiated off of him.
“You’re not going to catch me off guard,” she whispered, imagining how far he might take things to try to disarm her mentally and emotionally. Knives weren’t the only way to carve a heart.
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely.”
He hummed, amused. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t challenge me. Because Ilovea good challenge. Now…” He shifted, one knee edging between hers. A hand rested on her hip as he leaned forward, cheek brushing against hers. His mouth was by her ear. “Tell me, what had you lying about the severity of your wound to get deeper into the arena?”
Eira bit her lip, shifting her stance. The dagger disappeared from her hand. Despite her talk, she couldn’t keep focused on itwhen he was that close. The part of her Ferro had laid his hands on revolted at this strange man being so near. The part of her wounded by Cullen begged him to smooth over the damage that had been done to her heart with his strong hands. To make her forget, if only for a while. To use someone the way she had been made to feel used. She was torn between every competing force within her. Trapped.
Then, a different internal voice. One not attached to any man. She’d resolved in the carriage not to allow her heart to run rampant. To be swept away without warning. Eira raised up her hands and rested them on Olivin’s chest. Firm muscle relaxed as she pushed him away. His hand slipped off the wall. Olivin had talked big as well, but didn’t fight her at the barest of refusals and took a half step back.
“Olivin, listen—”
“Eira?” Cullen materialized out of nowhere.
“Cullen?” What had madehimcome here out of everyone?
“I’m not…interrupting anything, am I?” Cullen looked between them, attention landing on her hands on Olivin’s chest. Olivin’s still on her hip. His brows furrowed slightly in the center.
A smirk slid across Olivin’s lips. “Not at all. I was escorting Eira back to the village.”
“I was coming to check on her. I was worried when she hadn’t yet returned. I couldn’t just go back…”
Eira glanced askance or else she might have blurted,I don’t want you here.He could’ve come as a concerned friend and nothing more, but she doubted it. Realizing she doubted Cullen’s motives was yet another wound.
“I wouldn’t presume to speak for the lady, but a moment ago she was assuring me she was fine.” Olivin made a show of adjusting his robes as he took a full step back. Was he trying to imply that her hands had been doing more than pushinghim away? Surely not… Though, exploiting a weakness like that would be exactly something a shadow would do.
“I’m all right.” Eira straightened and started away from Olivin—away frombothof them. The air of the tunnel felt colder than before.
“You’re sure? It looked like a lot of blood.” Cullen stepped a bit too close to her, as if he were trying to physically wedge himself between her and Olivin. “Can I check the wound?”
“It’s all bandaged up by a cleric; best to let the ointment sit.” Eira tried to step around him. “I’d like to head back. You’re both right, I’ve been gone long enough.” And she had some explaining to do to her friends for running off, yet again. Guilt flooded her.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to look at it? I’d feel better if I—”
“If you what?” Her tone was a bit sharper than intended. But annoyance at both of these men was creeping up her throat and escaping in her words. The guilt didn’t help her patience, either. “What could you do, Cullen? You’re a Windwalker. You can’t heal anything.”
His shoulders slumped slightly. “Eira, I was just—”
“I assure you, the lady can take care of herself.” Olivin loomed over Cullen. Eira had been right about him being taller than Cullen, and Olivin was looking a bit too smug about it.
“You don’t even know me.” She dropped Olivin down a peg. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me.” She sidestepped, freeing herself of the two yet again.
“Where are you going?” Cullen asked, stepping quickly to follow.
“There’s only one place I can go, and it’s the place I said I wanted to go: the village. I’m exhausted and neither of you is being helpful.”
“Excuse me?” Olivin laughed. He didn’t sound offended in the slightest.
“Eira—please—I was—wasn’t,” Cullen stammered, his usual grace utterly lost.
Eira walked faster, Cullen at her side. Olivin’s footsteps could be heard behind them, but he set a leisurely pace. Perhaps to give them privacy, but Eira didn’t give him that much credit. He had known exactly what he was doing and he had played them both. He’d managed to exploit her weaknesses in a moment and rile Cullen in the same, short amount of time. A better shadow than she’d given him credit for.
But the real question remained: Why? What was his goal? To benefit his team or something more? What did he get from putting her on edge other than smug satisfaction that he could? It was an odd way to go about potentially working together, that was certain.
