“Bold of you to assume Itookthem from anyone, especially without their knowledge.” He waved a dismissive hand. “These are borrowed. From a… friend.”
It wasn’t lost on Hazel how Slaide had tripped over that last word, as though friend wasn’t the term he was searching for.
“She no longer needs them.”
Sure, she’d seen a couple of those women in the training yard. But not a single female warrior she’d observed shared her body type. They were all tall and broad-shouldered, thickly-muscled, ferociously badass women. They were everything she was not, and their fighting leathers, no matter how fitted they were, would have sagged off her worse than a burlap potato sack. So instead of quelling her, his response had piqued her interest even further.
“That doesn’t explain where this came from, though,” she said, gesturing to her attire. “I know you think I’m gullible and stupid, but we both know I wouldn’t fill out a true warrior’s fighting leathers. So, whose clothes am I wearing?”
And his eyes were once again ablaze with unspoken rage. That question, and pushing for an authentic answer, had crossed a line. She should be used to this by now.
“Someone who would be insulted to see you wearing them while insinuating she couldn’t possibly be a warrior due to her size. But you know what? You’re right. You don’t deserve to stand where she stood, playing dress up in her clothes. She’d kick my ass for even considering it.”
After getting thatoff his chest, his gaze cooled and he looked almost remorseful.Almost.He returned to his quiet, brooding demeanor then, pivoting on the boulder and turning his back to Hazel.
So that was it then. Big bad Slaide Elias, witch hunter and monster slayer, had taken a lover and something had befallen her. His mood was understandable, and pity bloomed in her chest. But was it too much for him to just be up front about those things?
They sat quietly for a while, accompanied only by the evening chorus of crickets and bullfrogs in the nearby marsh.
It wasn’t long before Hazel couldn’t take it anymore, and she broke the silence. “I’m sorry for offending you. It’s obvious you cared deeply about her.” She took a step closer. “Would you care to talk about her? Tell me what she was like?” She knew she should just let it go, but she couldn’t find it within herself to do so. How long had it been since anyone asked about her?
Slaide shifted, but didn’t speak.
“Can you just tell me her name? Is-is she alive?” she prodded.
He tilted his head to the sky and ran a hand through his hair.
“Sylvie,” he ground out. “Her name was Sylvie. And no, she isn’t. At least not here in the physical realm. I try to keep her memory alive as much as possible. It’s… difficult. They expected me to just move on. To forget her as they did. But I didn’t. I can’t.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.”
“No, you really can’t. No one can. We were soul-bonded—two halves of the same whole. Those who care to remember say the entire continent shook when her soul was torn from her body. The only thing that keeps her tethered here is the small strand of her being living within me.”
Hazel had heard of bonds and tethers to the soul before, though she admittedly had never thought much about it. Mosthumans didn’t have those sorts of connections with one another. Some of the fae and other magical creatures were said to take mates instead of spouses, and while it was much the same concept as a marriage, it was on a deeper level. The souls of mates were destined by Fate, and once the bonds were acknowledged, the souls became tethered for eternity. So, maybe…
Hazel took another step forward and raised her hand to place on his shoulder. “Was she… your mate?” she asked tentatively.
Thatalmostgot a laugh out of him. More of a choking-scoff, but she’d take it.
“No. No, it wasn’t like that. She was more than that. Closer to my own soul than any mate could ever be. She was blood of my blood, as they say. My twin sister. She was murdered.”
Oh, this was so much worse than she’d thought.
“I-I’m so sorry. I just thought… never mind. Did you find the person responsible? I’m assuming they’ve been dealt with?” He shook his head no. “But Slaide, she was the only family you had. And they just… got away?” She shouldn’t care. This wasn’t her problem. Pleading with him was more dangerous than playing with fire, but she couldn’t stop. Common sense and her warming locket be damned, she reached for him.
Slaide’s body rumbled with a sinister growl as it rolled through him, and Hazel’s hand froze in midair.
“And why do you care? You just want to go home, remember? Not only are you unskilled, untrained, and utterly useless, you’re clueless as well. You don’t seem to get it. Wecan’tavenge her. Perhaps someone else could. Come to think of it, maybe they should. ButIcan’t.”
“Maybe I don’t understand having my family murdered, but I can understand having your life turned upside down,” she snapped.
He spun on her, rising and putting his face mere inches from hers, eyes burning with the heat of a thousand suns and the sorrow of a thousand and one deaths. He was so tragically handsome.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Hazel. There are forces at work here far beyond your wildest nightmares. Maybe I was foolish to think I could help prepare you against them.”
Defeat and heartbreak carved their way into her soul. Strong feelings for someone she barely knew. And if it was a ploy to gain her sympathy, to let her guard down? It was working.
“You’re so intent on forcing me to face my fears, but you’re too scared to face your own. Hypocrite.” The words were out before she could stop them.
