Finn steps around me as though he didn’t even hear his sister’s name, glancing from the tent to Alexus and back to me, as if he can see the invisible bond between us. A familiar, sick feeling swirls in my stomach. My oldest friend looks confused, blinking fast, like he’s attempting to put the pieces of a complex puzzle in their right places, yet none seem to fit. There’s no doubt he saw me leave Alexus’s tent before, and now I’m followed by a half-naked Witch Collector who not only looks like he’s been well-had more than a few times, but who just understood my sign language and spoke my name with utmost familiarity.
I slide a worried glance at Alexus. He returns my glance with a wave of calm through the bond and a comforting, almost imperceptible nod.
But not imperceptible enough.
Every muscle in Finn’s body grows rigid. He studies me with those bottomless eyes, reading truths I cannot hide.
“Earlier…” His throat moves on a hard swallow, as though his next words are so disgusting that they choke him. “Were you with him… willingly?”
Joran barks a haughty laugh. “Of course she was. She’s willing nearly every godsdamn night. Quite the champion, that one.”
Alexus and I stare deathwishes into every inch of the Icelander. I understand why Joran dislikes me, but this moment of arrogance is bold.
In those seconds, when Alexus and I have our eyes on the bowyer, I glimpse Finn moving in the corner of my eye. I spin on my heel, but I can only watch as he steps forward, rears back, and drives his fist into Alexus’s jaw.
The impact causes Alexus’s head to jerk to the side, slinging a curtain of dark hair over his face. But for all the power in Finn’s blow, the Witch Collector stands steady as a tree.
Alexus twists his head, cracking his neck, and with a swipe of his thumb, smears the thin stream of bright blood running down his chin.
He holds up a finger. “You get one shot, blacksmith. One.”
“Or maybe I get two.” Finn rips his bow free, and nocks an arrow, aiming its broad tip at Alexus. “You’ll be lucky if this is all I do. I should’ve let that fiery arrow sink into your black heart back in Silver Hollow.”
“And perhaps I should’ve let that Eastlander slice you to bits,” Alexus says, a knife-sharp edge to his voice. “But I didn’t. And here we are.”
It takes a moment for me to grasp what they’re saying. They saved one another? The night of the attack?
“I’d put that bow down,” Joran calls. “The Collector isn’t my favorite person either, but we need him. Besides, fast though you might be, I’m faster.”
The smile in the Icelander’s voice is audible. Even without looking, I know that wolfish grin is stretched wide, and that his crossbow is once again raised, loaded, and aimed.
When Finn doesn’t relent, I move to stand between him and Alexus. “You do not understand,” I sign. “Put down the bow and listen. Please.”
He shifts his aim a few inches to the left, over my shoulder, never taking his eye off Alexus who sweeps a brawny arm around my waist and pushes me behind him.
He turns a quick glance at me, brows knitted so tightly that two deep lines form between them. “Never put yourself in harm’s way for me. Do you hear?”
“There isn’t much to understand, is there, Collector?” Finn says, disrupting the moment. “I can see what you’ve been doing. Preying on a young woman when she was alone and at her lowest. Is this what you do to the witches you take?” He draws back on his bow to recover the inch he’s lost, his strength weakening. “I should pluck your eyes out, then leave you in this godsforsaken forest to be eaten by the wolves.”
Regardless of Alexus’s previous command, I move again. This time, I stand with my back against his chest.
“Raina.” He grits the word through clenched teeth. But I hold fast.
“He did not force me to do anything, and he has never hurt me,” I sign. “We have endured so much these last weeks. He is not the man I thought.”
Finn’s arms tremble, a dangerous position for an archer with someone they love standing at the end of their weapon. Though it’s obvious that it kills him to do it, he lowers his arrow.
Alexus exhales a breath and threads our fingers together. His other hand settles heavy on my waist. It’s meant to be a comfort, but I can feel the feral nature in the act, a territorial move.
That’s all it takes to elicit an appalled scoff from Finn as understanding dawns.
Arrow dangling from one hand and a strung bow teetering on the fingertips of another, he steps back, chest rising and falling fast.
Panic beats a tattoo through my blood. This isn’t how I wanted any of this to happen. I thought I’d have time to explain the past few weeks to Finn. Time to make him see that what Alexus and I went through changed everything. But I wasn’t granted time, and much as I wish I could, I can’t salvage things now.
I let go of Alexus and move slowly toward my best friend. “Finn. Come talk with me.”
A growl tears from his throat, and he slings his bow into the wood. A snapping sound cracks the air, his beloved weapon exploding under the stress. Yet he’s unfazed. He drops his arrow, shakes his head, and stares at me with the blankest expression, like I’m a stranger.
