The captain sighed, looking much older than he had before as he dragged a hand down his face. I could see him warring with himself, caught between his sense of duty and his loyalty — and whatever else he might feel — to Sorsha.
“I will not order my men to fly on Dorthus. I cannot.” He turned to Kaden. “You have the night to rest and replenish with whatever supplies you need. Tomorrow, you must depart.”
Siran paused, seeming to steel himself for what he had to say next. “I cannot allow the exiled princess to take command of my battalion. But if her half-demon brotherattempted to sway my troops before his departure . . . that would be out of my hands.”
We were on our own.
That thought kept ringing in my head as one of the Drathen soldiers led us to the barracks after evening mess.
We had no army. No advantage. It was us against the demon king’s forces.
Coming here had been a waste of time, despite Sorsha’s best efforts. Siran was duty-bound to a fault. He would not risk his troops or his position to help the princess, no matter what he might feel for her.
The dark-haired fae didn’t say a word as he led us down the cold, narrow passage to our quarters, though I did see him glance at Kaden before averting his eyes.
How strange, I thought, for this soldier to be in the presence of his prince. Kaden shared the male’s heritage, his culture, his customs. And yet, he was an outcast. Unwelcome in the fort that had once belonged to his people and was now under the command of a tyrant king.
Our quarters were cramped and modestly appointed. A single bed stood against each wall, draped in scratchy linen blankets that smelled faintly of mildew. A wooden chest sat opposite each bed, and between the beds, a small table with a flickering oil lamp.
A fire burned low in the hearth, and there was a copper bucket filled with what I could only assume were dehydrated dung pellets. There were no trees on the island for the soldiers to burn for heat, and the smoke gave off a strange, earthy aroma.
“Quite the warm welcome,” Kaden quipped as we took in the tiny room. “Chambers fit for a bastard prince and his concubine.”
I tossed him a sidelong glare, but my heart wasn’t truly in it.
I’d nearly lost him back in the Ravenous Woods. With our hurried flight to Cragsmuir, I hadn’t had much time to dwell on it, but now that we were finally safe –– at least until tomorrow –– it hit me like a punch to the gut.
I was still furious with Kaden for all his secrets, but I didn’t want to fight. Not now. Not tonight. Not when this might be our last evening together.
Perhaps I’d inadvertently sent some of my terror down the bond, because Kaden’s eyes softened. “Why don’t you take a nice hot bath? It’s the only thing that will chase away the chill on this godsforsaken rock.”
At his words, I felt a soft wave of magic, and I wandered into the attached bathing chamber and found a deep copper tub filled to the brim. A small window overlooked the raging sea below, and tantalizing tendrils of steam drifted from the water’s surface.
Closing the door, I began stripping out of my soaked leathers and the sweaty layers beneath. The cool air of the bathing chamber nipped at my skin, and when I finally sank into the gloriously hot water, I could not suppress my groan of pleasure.
The heat seeped into my bones, chasing away the chill of our flight and the spartan barracks. My muscles relaxed after hours spent clutching Kaden as he flew us over the sea, and yet the warmth of the bath could not thaw the icy dread that had taken root in my gut.
I closed my eyes. Tomorrow we would fly to Dorthus tokill the demon king. Without the aid of the Drathen army, I couldn’t fathom how we’d infiltrate the palace, let alone make it out alive.
I wasn’t afraid for myself, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losinghim.
“Kaden?” I called, my voice carrying inside the stone chamber.
Slowly, the door to the bathing room creaked open.
Kaden stood in the doorway, shirtless. His leathers were slung low on his hips, revealing the V of sinew that led below his waistband. His tattoos were a chaotic swirl of ink, undulating in time to his ragged breaths as his gaze flitted to the tub.
“Need help washing your back, little huntress?” Kaden purred, his voice sending sharp tingles humming from the base of my spine all the way down to my toes.
“Are you volunteering?” I’d meant for the question to sound bold, but it came out breathy and high-pitched.
A devious look swirled in his eyes, which seemed to crackle with heat. “Always.”
My breath caught as he prowled toward me, his bare feet silent on the smooth stone floor.
Sinking to his knees beside the tub, he grabbed a bar of soap off the ledge, along with a small linen towel draped over the side.
His hand disturbed the water as he dunked the cloth, slowly lathering the soap as his eyes drifted down the column of my throat to where the steaming water lapped around my breasts.
