“Are you safe with him?” I asked as we drew nearer. I knew very little about her brother, and the angry set of his brows concerned me. Or perhaps it was only as Calix had said, that I was being overprotective of my new mate.
Thoughts of the boy turned my lips down. Would he be at the inn? Why did his well-being concern me? Was it because I owed him for aiding me in protecting Evera?
“Of course,” Evera said. “He is my brother. Aureus is just—” She sighed. “He worries about me.”
I could empathize with his worrying, even if I did not approve of his use of sternness and reprimands. Not when simply speaking to his sister would accomplish more. Making a sound of acknowledgment, I steered Sorrel and stopped before the man. I held Evera firmly against me, needing to judge the situation for myself before I released her to him.
For a moment, Aureus only held his beard, eyes flitting between the two of us. Finally, he addressed his sister, his tone low and flat. “I told you to return to the shop.”
I gave Evera a moment to respond for herself, but she only breathed deeply and placed one of her hands over mine.
“We went for a ride,” I replied.
Scoffing, Aureus clenched his fists at his side. “I’m sure that’s all it was.”
The derisive tone and the insinuation of his words heated my blood. Through the bond, I sensed Evera’s discomfort.
“Consider your words,” I snarled.
In the flicker of lanterns set atop the stone fence of the inn’s garden, I noted the flush to Aureus’s cheeks.Good. Be ashamed.
When I dismounted, Aureus flinched, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Not all men were fighters; I understood this. Still,weakness irritated me. Especially when it was the brother of my mate who showed it to me. It pained me to leave her with him.
“Show your sister more respect,” I warned, standing face-to-face with the apothecary.
Aureus set his jaw and, dismissing me, reached to draw the reins over Sorrel’s ears so he could lead Evera back to the stable. On the mare’s back, Evera sat with eyes cast down, the flame within her flickering.
No.
“Evera can steer her mare on her own,” I said, intercepting Aureus’s reach. Looking up to her, I placed the reins in her hands and nodded, letting a smile of encouragement settle on my face. There were words to be said, but they weren’t needed. Not when the corner of her lips turned up and a sensation of weightlessness flitted through the bond. Though the world held many dangers for her, and I only added to them, she was strong of mind and body and heart. I could not let my need to protect her overshadow that.
“Can I come for you tomorrow?” I asked.
Evera nodded, and I brushed my thumb lightly over the bruising at her jawline. She held my hand in hers then lowered it, her smile soft and sad. Tomorrow I would bring her lightness, perhaps bake with her as I had so often as a boy with Nyana.
Aureus voiced Evera’s name, and she squeezed Sorrel’s sides, urging the mare on. Pride filled me as I watched them set down the road, and when they turned right at the corner and left my sight, an emptiness came over me. How I longed to keep her at my side, to carry her to bed with me, to lay her down. Though I ached to be inside of her again, the desire to simply be in her presence was stronger. To hold her in my arms, to watch her breath, heavy as she slept.
Skirting the fence with my hood concealing my hair, I made my way to the back door of the inn, my thoughts turning to thepresence of castle soldiers and a guard. Who, very likely, would be sleeping under the same roof as Calix and I on this night. If, I reminded myself, Calix had returned. But what else could he do? Without my blood, his control would not last, and if his magic killed—if he was caught for it—a swift execution would befall him.
The hens greeted me as I reached the garden, clucking and pecking at my boots. The new rooster, a proud and aggressive creature, studied me and kicked at the earth. I scoffed, nudging the hens aside as I walked. Reaching the back door, I entered through a crack, careful not to let any of the daft creatures inside.
A pot of fresh soup bubbled over the fire, filling the room with the smell of onions and rosemary. I drifted to it without thinking, giving the creamy broth a slow stir as my stomach rumbled in response. On the table, a loaf of bakery bread sat on the table with a serrated knife beside it. I carved a slice free– the crust crisp beneath the blade, the inside was soft and pillowy–and tore off a bite. Warm. Comforting. Delicious.
The split doors swung open, and Maerel’s eyes narrowed the instant they found me. With a sharp flick, she tossed a rag over her shoulder and strode to the table, snatching the bread from my hand as though it were contraband.
“Some help you are,” she scolded. “This place has been packed since sun fall. Remind me what you’re doing to earn that free room of yours.”
Rearranging barrels of beer, washing countless dishes, dispersing drunkards, cleaning their vomit when they drink too much …
“I’m sorry, Maerel.”
“Yes. Well, you’re here now.” She turned her back to me and drew plates and bowls from a shelf. Returning to the table, she placed them beside the bread. “Souptonight. There’s a group ofsoldiers from the capital over by the hearth. Start by bringing them each a bowl.”
A tightness constrained my chest. “I cannot.”
Maerel slapped the rag from her shoulder onto the table and met me with a firm stare. “And why is that?”
Working my jaw, I sought the words. Then a deep laugh came from the bar, and the familiarity of it chilled my blood. I froze, listening. The quiet complaints of a young woman rose and were cut off.
