She started, like she couldn’t believe the apology that had slid past my lips. But then her brow furrowed. “Are you, truly?”
A muscle feathered in my jaw. “I am. I know what it’s like to lose one’s parents in a violent manner.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but clicked her teeth shut when the barmaid appeared, our food in hand. The plates slid across the table with practiced ease, and then she set two glasses of water between us. “Enjoy.”
The crowd’s roar swallowed my thanks.
Picking up the knife and fork, I dug into the chicken. In silence, Sylaira did the same. The workers, now on what appeared to be their third round of drinks, began singing an off-key tune.
Their bawdy behavior grated my nerves.
I finished my food first, then took stock of the rest of the room, gauging how difficult it would be to exit quietly.
Thankfully, by the time she ate the last bite of her meal, the group of workers were paying their tab and stumbling toward the square once again. I hoped one would chop a finger off from their drunken stupidity.
Once they were out of sight, I rose, grabbing Sylaira’scrutches and handing them to her. She stuck them under her arm, and I let her walk in front of me. Eyes tracked our movements. I glared at more than a few, who shrank back immediately. I was the Issaraeth after all.
Still, when we emerged into a brilliantly sunny afternoon, I jerked my hood back up. Summer air brushed against my cheeks, humid and heavy.
I hovered close to my mate as we returned to the wagon. As she settled in, I checked on our supplies, cursing when I noted that the horses’ feed was low. Our lunch had taken too long, which meant that we couldn’t stop in a village that night to rest.
I glanced at my mate, then at the store only a few paces away. The windows were large enough that I could keep her in my periphery while I purchased what I needed.
“I need to buy more oats for the horses. Can I trust you to wait in the cart for me?” I asked Sylaira.
She lifted a brow, a smile teasing at the corner of her lips. “I don’t know. Can you?”
A growl rumbled in my chest. “I’m serious, Sylaira. Do you want to get out of the wagon again or stay here when I’ll only be a few minutes?”
“Are you really giving me a choice?” she asked, the tilt in her tone taking on a sardonic air.
“For once, yes. And I am already regretting it immensely,” I groused, pinching my brow. Why did she have to be so Goddess damn frustrating?
“I’ll stay here,” she conceded, bracing her hands behind her and tipping her head toward the sun.
I wondered what her skin would look like bronzed.
“Good girl,” I told her.
An almost imperceptible flush rose to her cheeks.
I yanked myself away, forcing my feet into the nearby store.Two others waited in line ahead of me. I kept returning to the windows, peering for a glimpse of my mate, who appeared content to soak in the light.
Finally, it was my turn. I quickly ordered what I needed, but the shopkeeper took a century returning with a laden sack.
“Here, I’ve got it,” I snapped, taking the load from him. What had been heavy from him was nothing to me. Thankfully, the bruise on my lower back had quickly healed. I slung it over my shoulder and plopped two silver wings on the counter.
I spun on my heel, striding for the square.
Only to find three of those workers from the tavern hovering at the end of the cart, speaking with Sylaira.
“You don’t look injured, beautiful. It’s me who’s hurting here,” one crooned, clutching his chest with pathetic, over the top theatrics.
My mate was tense in a way I hadn’t seen her since before our mating bond snapped into place. A hint of fear and anger trickled past her high walls. Power surged to my sternum, begging to be unleashed.
“Yeah, I can’t believe you’re with another male when you should be with me,” the second said, leaning on the edge of the wood and reaching for her.
Before I knew what was happening, I was outside and flinging the oats in the back. One of the horses whinnied at the sudden slap of sound.
