His jaw tightened, and the proffered shirt dipped a fraction before he turned back to me, his gaze instantly locked on mine. “It’s not safe for you out here until the wards are fully mended.”
“Ah, dangerous indeed,” I mocked, tapping a finger to my chin. “So dangerous, in fact, that Caius sent theonecommander in his court with no magic to, what? Fetch me? Protect me? He must be terribly worried about keeping his precious Spark safe if he sent you.”
Endymion’s boots scratched against the sand as he took a step closer, his dominant stature somehow daring me to keep testing him. “You know,” he said, eyes dipping to my lips, “I could just come in there and get you.”
I smirked. “I’m sure you could.” The flicker of untamed emotion he let slip spurred me to turn my back to him. “But we both knowyou won’t,” I said, throwing the words over my shoulder before diving under.
A dark, heady mirth of defiance fluttered through me, carrying with it a profound sense of satisfaction that seemed to steep deeper the longer it percolated.
I was done being a puppet.
Chapter 8
Gentlemale
The heat of the sun coaxed me awake the next morning. My eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the waking world.
Mercifully, no dreams chased me out of my sleep. Then again, they rarely did when I slept under the stars.
I stretched loud and long, mulling over the events of the previous evening. Endymion and I had refused to acknowledge each other once I’d finally exited the water and slipped back into my clothes.
He’d already untacked Luca and his mare when I’d found him sitting near a raging fire, clearly brooding as he slid a sharpening stone down his sword in long, steady strokes from hilt to tip—the sight had jolted me with the memory of the na’li’s blood dripping down it. Exhausted and unwilling to be goaded into a,this-was-reckless-of-youconversation, I’d grabbed my rucksack and used it as a pillow, snuggling into the warm sand to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep had different plans. My mind spun, trying to sort through what Caius and Endymion’s agendas were, but no matter how long I tried to pull at the thread, it just seemed to tangle.
I needed answers, ones that could be fact-checked.
Twisting around, I flipped onto my stomach to face whereEndymion was retacking the horses. Now that it was morning, he clearly expected us to leave. I clenched a fistful of sand and released it until my annoyance passed before speaking. Being petulant wouldn’t get me answers.
“Does the Summer Palace have a library?” I asked, his back toward me.
Continuing to pull Luca’s saddle straps tight, he said, “The largest in the realm.”
My heart fluttered, and I sat up. “Truly!?”
He paused and shifted his focus, greeting me with his half smirk. Damn, it almost made me forget I was annoyed with him. “Truly,” he said, seeming to delight in my outburst of curiosity like he’d done during the summer solstice.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re not just saying that to get me to go back, are you?”
“And risk your wrath when you found out I was lying? I don’t think so,” he scoffed.
I rolled my eyes, then stood. Dusting the sand off, I slipped my rucksack on and walked toward them.
“Morning, Luca,” I cooed, rubbing the soft spot between his nostrils the way he loved, and was rewarded with heavy eyelids.
“You two have really bonded, haven’t you?”
I mounted Luca in a swift movement, then looked down at Endymion for a long moment before answering. “He’s given me no reason to mistrust him.”
The commander gave no physical cue that my words had found their mark, but I somehow knew they had. Without a word, he handed me the reins, then proceeded to mount his horse.
A taut silence remained while we traveled, and although I was loath to admit it, I was grateful he was with us. Truth was, I wasn’t entirely certain I’d be able to do it without him. Or at least not without walking on foot to track the path we’d taken.
“You don’t trust me.” The words seemed to tumble out of him as if he couldn’t hold onto them anymore.
I pulled up on Luca’s reins to stop beside Endymion, my barbed quip dying on my tongue as I took in the autumn fae. As he breathed, the layers of his leathers caught the sunlight—revealing the undertone of deep crimson denoting his court. And while captivating, that was not what made me pause. There was something about his countenance that was at odds with his proud, militant posture.
For all my internal bravado, Ihadheld trust in him. It was fleeting—and in circumstances where I’d had little choice—but I couldn’t deny they’d happened. Regardless, he was right; I didn’t trust him.
“It bothers you,” I said, finally reconciling what I’d felt from him.
