She glanced sideways at him, her steps in rhythm with his. “We were the only team available, weren’t we?”
Fenn looked up, his eyebrows lifted, and his hand rose almost instinctively to rake through his dark hair, which fell back loosely over his face as he collected himself. “Was it that obvious?”
“No,” Rynna said, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Just a guess.”
“Good guess.” He snorted, then paused, his eyes darting briefly around as if checking their surroundings, before leaning in slightly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Uh, sure.” She glanced sideways at him.
Fenn’s voice was low, careful. “What did you mean? Back at the tavern? About not really being eighteen? Or a trainee?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, tilting her head back.Shit. She hadn’t expected him to just come out and ask her like that. “Maybe I was just messing with you.”
“Maybe,” he said, studying her closely. “But I don’t think so. There’s too much about you that…doesn’t exactly scream young.”
“Beyond the…” She trailed off, but before she could finish, he cut her off.
“Yes.”
Rynna shoved her hands into her pockets again. “Maybe I’m just mature for my age.”
“Rynna.” His voice was firmer now, and she felt the warmth of his hand as it rested gently on the small of her back, subtly guiding her to face him. “Level with me. It’s not just about what happened between us. I need to know who I have in my unit, especially now, when we’re heading into something dangerous.”
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, lips tightening in contemplation.
He’s right. She had opened the door for this question with her big mouth, and now she owed him an answer. The problem was, she had no idea how to give him one without lying or spilling everything.
“Fine,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
He waited.
“Ummm…” Rynna’s mind raced, her thoughts twisting in every direction as she tried to find the right words. Her lips parted, but nothing came out immediately.
“Rynna,” he pressed, his voice more insistent now. “Your age or experience really shouldn’t be a mystery. Are you eighteen or not?”
“Not really...no, not at all,” she exhaled.
Fenn's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “Why the games?”
“I’m not playing games,” she sighed. “It really is just…complicated.” Her eyes darted toward the ground, then back up to him, searching his face for understanding. “And I’ve already mentioned, multiple times, how your Elders assigned my age when they found me.”
How the hell am I supposed to explain this without sounding crazy? Should I just say I lied about my age? That would be easier, though it would break the fragile trust she’d built with the others if they found out.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Fine,” she grunted, then lowered her voice. “Do you believe someone can live forever?”
She might actually be insane, going with the unfiltered truth, but instinct told her this man would demand no less…and that she could trust him.
“Come on,” he snorted.
“I’m serious.”
Fenn’s brows furrowed, but his gaze sharpened, studying her with growing intensity. “Okay…explain.”
Rynna swallowed, taking a moment to gather herself.
“I came to Ember Reach playing the role of an eighteen-year-old trainee, because that was how your Elders chose to see me.” She glanced around as if the forest around them could somehow help her articulate what she barely understood herself. “This is the life I’m living. Every day. A Novice of Fang Unit. That’s who I am. What I am. At least to an extent.”
