I wondered if any would join us as we pressed forward with the assault. Gryfon had claimed we wouldn't need support from Prima, that the small army we'd brought with us would beenough to conquer Sanctuary if the humans did their job and distracted the Geist well enough in Pavos, but I wasn't sure. I knew the people of Archí were still recovering from an attack which occurred because they'd harbored me. I imagined many of them wouldn't be leaping at the chance to plunge into battle beside me once more, but this was war. We needed every soldier we could deploy. If Prima held back and didn't send aid by the morning, especially since the general had sent a runner from outside the human gates weeks ago to inform her of our intentions to march straight to Sanctuary, I couldn't help but think she'd never had any confidence in this undertaking from the beginning.
"I offered to let him sleep in our tent tonight," Zya said suddenly and both mine and Kane's gazes darted to her. Kane even slowed his chewing as he glanced between us, gauging my reaction. Zya, for her part, kept eating as though she hadn't said anything inflammatory.
"Why would you do that?" I hissed, keeping my voice low as I chanced a glance toward Dante who sat on the periphery of camp, eating his meal with his back to the rest of us, as always.
"He's miserable, Adrian," she sighed, finally looking up at me. "The general is such an asshole to him."
"And you don't think he's earned a bit of misery?"
"Easy for you to say when you don't have to listen to his griping every minute of the day."
Zya's gaze narrowed and I relented. She was right. I'd pulled away from Dante the moment he'd come to my room and informed me he still loved me. I'd avoided him ever since and was only able to, in this small camp of ours, because of the role Zya had taken on as his personal guardian. I couldn't stand to be near my former partner but I didn't want him killed in the middle of the night by some over zealous warrior either.
He'd been kept at the general's side throughout most of the journey. Gryfon's various warriors had been assigned to him night and day, one of them always nearby, despite the fact that I'd already assigned Zya to the cause. When night fell and we were too weary to walk on, the general announced it time to rest and always pulled Dante away while Zya, Kane, and I found a spot of our own. Gryfon didn't enjoy my former partner's company and there was still something between them which was clearly unresolved but he seemed to prefer to keep an eye on Dante himself at night.
"He can stay with me," Kane offered, still looking between us as he slowly resumed his chewing.
"Your tent is packed enough," Zya argued. "I don't think Lauchlan or Struan would appreciate another cot crowding the space. We have the room."
"But—"
"It's one night, Adrian," Zya said, glancing over her shoulder at Dante.
I followed her gaze and sighed.
"Fine," I agreed. "I should…I'll go talk to him."
Setting my plate down beside the fire, I rose, metal armor clanking with every movement. I brushed the sand from its crevices as best as I could and made my way over to where he sat on the edge of camp, staring up at the stars in the deep night sky, his food forgotten beside him. I brushed the sand from my hands as I knelt and sat beside him, far enough away that we wouldn't touch but close enough that we could talk without being overheard.
"We might die tomorrow," he said suddenly and I froze. "Is that why you've finally decided to speak to me?"
I took a breath, settling in and looking up at the stars as well.
"I've already died," I told him. "Remember?"
He turned to me, starlight twinkling in those brilliant green eyes, and I was reminded all at once why I'd fallen for this man in the first place. He was truly beautiful in a way so many tried to fake. He was polished and accomplished with a toned body bred from years of training and a sharp wit made from the highest education. His dark hair was disheveled and soft, so out of place in his rugged surroundings. He was made for a painting, I realized. Dante was crafted for beautiful things like velvet couches and golden frames and silk sheets. Even though he was a soldier, born and bred for a battle which had come and gone, he was too pretty for war. The very thought of blood soiling his beautiful bronze skin made my heart ache.
"This is one we might not come back from," he replied.
I nodded, banishing all thoughts of his beauty from my mind as I cleared my throat and felt thankful he could no longer read my thoughts.
"Zya said she offered to let you bunk with us tonight," I said.
He frowned and I could see the displeasure in his expression. I could no longer read his mind but I knew what he was thinking all the same. Dante hated needing anything from anybody, hated asking for something he wanted.
"The general hates me," he told me instead.
"The prince told me the two of you had an altercation before we left," I said. "It's what moved up the king's timetable to get us out of there. What happened?"
He frowned and turned away, shaking his head slightly as he peered out at the camp and the warriors extinguishing the fire and heading off to their tents for the night.
"He came after me for what I did to you," he confessed quietly.
"The Betrayal? That was so long ago and I'd already determined not to punish you further for it. He shouldn't have—"
"Not the betrayal. For what I said to you that night in the palace. For how you took it."
I froze, understanding dawning upon me. I'd sobbed half the night away after kicking Dante out of my room. Had the general heard it and then sought my former partner out to punish him the next day? My cheeks flamed with embarrassment and fury.
