“Charming bedtime story,” Tamsin smirked.
He flashed her a grin. “I’m a veritable bard.”
I shrugged out of my coat and spread it near the edge of the cleared space, close enough to Tamsin that I could be there if she woke. The stone floor held the day’s cold, seeping through boots and bones, but the chapel walls blocked the worst of the wind.
Tamsin sat on a crate and unlaced her boots with a quiet sigh. Then she stood, stretched, and rolled her shoulders like she was trying to work the last of the tension out. She caught me watching and tilted her head.
“You’re thinking too loud,” she said.
“Just checking the room,” I replied.
“Mm.” She stepped closer and leaned her shoulder into my arm for half a second.
Elias moved to her other side, resting a hand briefly at herback. “Get some rest,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about anything tonight.”
She looked between us, eyes warm, but her brows were drawn with the slightest hint of concern. “You’ll wake me if you need me.”
“Yes,” Elias said. “But only if we need you.”
Nox snorted softly. “Bossy, the pair of you.”
“Pot,” Tamsin said.
“Kettle,” I added.
I grinned.
Eamon finally sat, rubbing his temples. “I’ll take first watch with Bishop,” he said. “Two hours each. Then we swap.”
Bishop inclined his head. “That works.”
Nox flopped onto a bedroll with a dramatic exhale. “Wake me if anything explodes.”
“That’s your bar?” Tamsin asked.
“It’s flexible,” he replied.
I lay back, hands folded behind my head, staring up at the cracked ceiling. The place had history. People had worshipped and prayed here once upon a time. Probably still did, in their own ways.
Beside me, Tamsin settled down, boots off now, knees drawn up to her chest.
I turned my head slightly. “You okay?”
She met my eyes. “Yeah. Just… adjusting.”
“Following instead of leading?” I asked.
She smiled faintly. “Something like that.”
The candles were snuffed one by one until only a single flame remained near the altar. Shadows enveloped the space. The sounds of the village outside were minimal. Just the constant wind and the distant surf.
Eamon and Bishop moved to their posts, murmuring quietly to each other. Nox went still, the way he did when he was actually resting, but I knew he was still listening.
Tamsin shifted closer, her shoulder brushing mine again. I didn’t move away.
Tomorrow would be hard. Life on the road always was and this time, we were running straight toward the fire instead of away from it.
But tonight, in a ruined chapel with stone walls and borrowed warmth, we were fed, rested, and safe.
