"I'm s—" I stopped myself from apologizing. Dante didn't deserve my apology. "He shouldn't have done that."
"He's very protective of you," Dante said and there was a bitter edge to his voice I was sure I didn't imagine.
"Are you actuallyjealous?" I barked out a laugh. It was cruel, perhaps, mocking him for such a feeling, but I couldn't help it. "Are you out of your mind, Dante? I gave you my heart and you tossed it down a pit along with the rest of me. Then you have the audacity to worm your way back into my life, profess your love for me, and getjealousof a man who's only defending me because he's charged with the task by his leader."
"He takes his duty very seriously."
I rolled my eyes and stood, dusting the sand off of my armor once more.
"If you intend to stay with us tonight, you should stop talking before you say something that really pisses me off," I told him, holding out a hand, an offering.
He looked up at me again, eyes sparkling in the starlight, and smirked, lips curling up in that delicious way I'd almost forgotten. My insides jumbled shamefully but I ignored the warmth of his hand as he took mine and stood. Then we made our way past the smoldering fire to the tent on the far side of camp, near the one he'd been occupying with the general up until now. I held open the flap and saw Zya's smile from beyond. She gestured at the bedroll she'd laid on the ground between our cots as Dante took a step inside. I took a step as well, moving to follow, but was yanked backward by a hand on my arm.
"Hey!" I cried out in alarm. "What are you—"
"Why is he in your tent?"
The general's face was inches from my own and contorted with a rage I could see clearly in the light of the moon. My brows furrowed as I gripped his fingers and pried them off of me.
"He's seeking a new sleeping arrangement," I snarled with a glare. "His has proven too hostile for his taste."
I whirled to enter my tent once more but the general slipped around me to stand in my way.
"You're not going in there with him," he growled.
I bristled.
"He won't stay with you," I snapped.
"Then you will."
I blinked, stunned, but he was already dragging me off to his tent, my hand gripped in his. I turned back to face my own in time to see Zya and Dante standing in the open flap of my tent. Zya seemed confused, mouthing a question to see if I needed help. I shook my head to call her off. I could handle the general. I wasn't afraid of him. But it was Dante's face that gave me pause and nearly had me digging my heels into the sand. Undiluted hatred and pure, embittered envy. I blinked, stunned by the weight of it, before he, too disappeared and I found myself inside the general’s tent.
"Unhand me," I snapped once we were inside.
The general obeyed, dropping my hand and moving further inside the tent to light a single candle.
The small flame only dimly illuminated our surroundings so I could see the large bedroll and blankets spread out on the sand below, a chest full of half-opened and rifled through letters and papers, and a rack of weapons standing in the corner.
"The two of you need to stop fighting over me like alley dogs with a bone between them," I barked.
Gryfon looked up from the candle and arched a brow at the metaphor.
"I will not be manhandled," I informed him. "And I fight my own battles, general."
He cocked his head at that, curious.
"Which battle are you claiming I've fought for you, little corruption?" he asked, his tone almost a purr. It was distracting. I blinked once, caught off guard by the complete change in his demeanor.
Away from Dante, he wasn't as irritable. Away from his men, he wasn't as stern. I was once again catching a glimpse of Gryfon the man, not the general, and once again my knee-jerk reaction was to spit venom at him to force a distance between us. Becausethatman did something to me I'd rather not feel again.
"I heard about the altercation at the palace," I snapped. "The prince told me about it. It's half the reason the king wanted us out of his city as soon as possible."
"Hardly. The king hated me long before I sent your partner into the dirt."
He rounded the table the candle sat upon, blocking its flickering flame for only a moment and plunging us in further darkness.
"I can fight my own battles," I asserted again but it wasn't as convincing this time. The anger had left me somewhat, at the look in his eyes, the way he was watching me. It was pointless anyway. Every ounce of venom I poured into him, every time I screamed at him and cursed him and pushed him away, he only took it with a smile and a glimmer in those icy eyes too mesmerizing for his own good.
