The relief that flooded through me was short-lived as Varyth’s fury blazed higher. “He dragged you to a war camp?” He rounded on Linc. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Linc’s jaw set, stubborn as stone. “I offered. She makes her own damn decisions.”
“Those decisions don’t matter if she’s dead,” Varyth snarled, stepping closer. “You hardly protected her.”
“And you think you would’ve?” Lincatheron’s eyes sparked, just for a second, with something dangerous. “She’s not some precious relic to be shelved when things get messy. She’s stronger than half the warriors we lost today. She’s standing here, isn’t she?”
Varyth took another step closer. “She is not expendable. She’s not some soldier to be thrown into battle.”
I caught Fenric tensing in my peripheral vision, his professional mask slipping as he fought what was clearly a powerful urge to step between them. The distance he’d been maintaining wavered as both men bristled like wolves preparing to tear each other apart.
Varyth growled, mist beginning to bleed from his skin.
“She’s under my protection.”
“She doesn’t need your protection from me.”
“Watch yourself, Commander.” Varyth’s wings flared behind him, a motion that sent the healers scurrying backward and Fenric a step forward.
The air buzzed with the unique energy of two men who’d rather die than be the first to blink. But the weight in the air wasn’t strength. It was the gravitational pull of two egos orbiting the same point of stupidity.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I stepped forward, placing myself between the pair. “I’m standing right here. Stop talking about me like I’m not.” I ignored the way Varyth bristled as I stood in front of Linc. “Lincatheron offered me an opportunity, and I took it. He’s not responsible for my decisions.”
They both turned to me, wearing twin expressions of stubbornness that would have been comical if I wasn’t so irritated.
“Varyth,” I said firmly, “I chose to go. Lincatheron invited me to meet some warriors. What happened wasn’t planned, and it wasn’t his fault.”
Varyth’s nostrils flared. “You could have been killed.”
“I’m aware of the risks. I’m not interested in hiding in this castle.”
“And throwing yourself into the middle of a war is how you survive?”
“You were content with that plan when you took me to the Veil.”
“That is different.”
“Oh? How?”
A snarl finally slipped free. “Because I was there. To protect you.”
I waved a hand at him—loose, dismissive, like he was fog I could walk through. “I don’t need protecting.”
Varyth snarled again, and I resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Lincatheron told me to run the second he saw Xyliria.” I held up my hand, sensing he was preparing to cut me off. “He didn’t put me in any danger.”
“Right,” Varyth drawled, every syllable slow, simmering. “And did you run? Or did you putyourselfin danger?”
“I didn’t run,” I admitted, choosing my words with care. “I knew I was safer near Lincatheron, and I was.”
“Whatexactlyhappened?”
I knew better than to give him the full truth.
“She attacked,” I said, keeping my voice measured, almost bored, as if offering a battlefield report. “Injured Lincatheron. Mocked us. Gave us a message, then was gone.”
Varyth’s expression remained unreadable, but disbelief lurked beneath the surface. “She didn’t try to kill you?”
