“Time to get moving.” His voice is muffled.
My vision blurs with tears I refuse to shed. “Dray, please…”
But he’s already walking away.
I want to scream. To rage. To beg him not to go. But I know it’s futile. The mask is more than a physical barrier—it’s the wall he’s erected around his heart. The one I can’t seem to breach, no matter how hard I try. I’m the most experienced Vesper in the Pen, yet I’m still clueless about him.
As he vanishes into the thick foliage, I hug myself, shivering.
The ghost of his touch lingers, torturing me. I finish cleaning myself, dress in his old shirt, and then make my way back to camp. It’s only a few yards, yet the waterlogged journey drags on.
Is this to be my fate? Forever chasing a ghost?
“A family should be born out of love like yours was. Not… that. Besides, brides are weaklings.”
“Hey! Take that back!”
“I said brides are weak. Not you. Not girls who join the military.”
Drayven’s voice trails off in my memory. Maybe I’ve changed too much for him to accept.
Or maybe we both have too much pain in our past to talk about now. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I force myself to keep walking, to not give up. It’s what I’ve always done, no matterhow many times this world tried to break me. And it’s what I’ll keep doing, even if Dray insists on fighting his war alone.
I’ll find a way to save him, to free him from Kasaros’s curse. No matter the cost.
Because he’s mine, just as I’m his. I may not have joined the military, but I sure as hell learned how to fight.
Chapter 14
Florienne
Even thorns can wound the rose if they press too close.”
—AMARA’S LAMENTATIONS
Drayven’s already arming himself several yards from the campsite. Determined to be a thorn in his side, I stalk up to him and snatch his baldric from his fingers.
Wild eyes meet mine over his mask.
“Stop.” His clipped bark is rough, desperate. “You can’t be near me. Not now.”
I run the leather strap through my fingers. “Why not? So you can continue to make choices for me? Continue to push me away without a decent explanation?”
“It’s too dangerous. The curse inside me… it’s getting stronger. I feel it clawing at my control.” Pained eyes meet mine. His voice deepens. Softens. “I still smell your sweetness on the mask, Flori. It’s killing me.”
“So take it off.”
“I can’t! Kasaros forbade me.” He pauses. Frowns. “Me,” he mutters, almost to himself, his eyes darting between his hands. “Not you. Regardless, without it, I?—”
He bites off his words and yanks the baldric from me. The leather stings as it slides through my grip.
“And you think running will help? You think leaving me behind will keep me safe?”
“I’m trying to protect you!” His shout ricochets across the temple, startling a flock of birds into flight. “The mask gives me strength to defeat your enemies. Can’t you see that?”
“All I see is a coward.” The words taste like acid on my tongue, but I force them out. “If you truly wanted me, you wouldn’t hide behind that mask. You’d claim me. Game over.”
“But then Kasaros keeps you.” Agony fills his expression. “Or your blood.”
