“That was—” Nate sputtered, turning scarlet. “I was just doing my job!”
Ashley froze for a second, caught off guard. “You… noticed I couldn’t see?”
Nate blinked at her, still red. “Obviously I noticed. Someone has to keep you from breaking your neck out there.”
Ashley’s mouth opened, then snapped shut.
“That doesn’t mean anything!” she blurted, louder than necessary.
“It means he’s sweet on you,” Mey said happily, going back to her water as if she hadn’t lobbed a live grenade into the conversation.
Ashley turned an alarming shade of red. “I am not… he is not… WE are not anything!”
Nate threw his hands up. “Exactly! I was just being nice! To someone who is, clearly, helpless in the dark!”
“Helpless?” Ashley rounded on him. “You’re lucky I’m not throwing you into the fire right now!”
Their bickering grew louder, both of them looking offended at the mere suggestion they might care about each other.
I sank down on the log next to Malakai, unable to hold back a laugh now. He looked at me sideways, a smug curve to his mouth.
“See?” he murmured under his breath, just for me. “We’re not the only ones with secrets.”
I elbowed him lightly, but I was smiling.
Their voices faded into the background as Ashley and Nate kept arguing, their flustered denials sounding more and more like confessions the longer they went.
Malakai leaned towards me slightly, his shoulder brushing mine. “You’re swaying,” he murmured under the noise of the camp.
I blinked, realizing too late that he was right. My legs felt shaky, my body still heavy with exhaustion.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically, but he gave me a look that made it very clear he didn’t believe me for a second.
“Sweetie,” he hummed, as if it was his new favorite word. “You damn near burned yourself out earlier. Go on, rest; I’ll keep watch.”
I hesitated. “It wasn’tthat—”
He tilted his head, his grin returning, softer this time, almost fond. “I meant helping the wounded, whatever were you thinking of, kitten?”
My mouth snapped closed, cursing myself for jumping to conclusions.
“Now, shut it and sleep.”
He wasn’t wrong.
With a small, tired scoff, I nodded. “Fine, but wake me if anything happens.”
“I’ll wake you,” he promised. Then, leaning closer, his voice dropped so only I could hear it. “And when you wake up, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted anotherstretch.”
Heat flared in my face at the memory, and he chuckled darkly, clearly pleased with my reaction.
“I’d rather stretch with a short sword, and possibly stab you,” I snapped, as I began to stand up and move to a bedroll.
His hand gripped my wrist, pulling me back down.
“Sweetie, swords aren’t for stabbing,” he whispered. “They’re for thrusting.”
I swung my open hand out, aiming to hit him in the head, but he stopped me right before.
