He eyed the manipulative little furball with resigned amusement. “Are you going to release him back into the forest anytime soon?”
She paused as she stretched her shoulder to look at him. “When he’s ready. He seems inclined to stay with us for now.”
Osas were curious, friendly, and highly intelligent. And this one had decided it wanted to stick with Celina. It wasn’t unheard of for osas to befriend hunters, not that he would ever admit that to his soul-daughter, who desperately wanted one of the wild animals for a pet.
“And you’re inclined to let him.” He laughed lightly. “Celina, he belongs in the wild. The longer he’s with us, the harder it will be for him to return.”
“Healing takes time. He’ll go when he’s ready.” She sent him an overly sweet smile, and he was reminded of how she’d distracted him from the conversation the previous day. Lightness fluttered inside him to mix with a low curl of heat.
Crooking a finger, he beckoned her toward him. Her smile turned coy as she sauntered closer, twining her fingers in his hair. He brushed his nose against hers, smiling against her cheek as he whispered, “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Mmm. I may have heard that once or twice before.” Pulling him back to center, she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips to coax them open for a series of deep kisses.
The sound of soft hoofbeats forced him to break the kiss with a groan, smiling as he glanced away from Celina to check with Cass. She came to an abrupt stop in front of them, silent and alert. Her characteristic smirk and sassy attitude transformed into the guarded warrior he’d first seen in Calderre.
Even just their short time together had taught him to read her well. Something was wrong. He exchanged a worried glance with Celina as they separated.
Dismounting with a graceful hop, Cass came to stand close to them, keeping her voice low. “Situation. There’s a site ahead with a group making camp. Eight men. Mercenary types, weapons visible. They’re not trying to be quiet.”
Apprehension tightened his gut. He was decent with a sword but facinghalfthat number in open combat was beyond his skill. “Any markings to identify who they work for?”
“Enough. Got close enough to tell they were hostile and definitely a mercenary group—or two of them. We either give them a wide berth and keep going, put some distance between us, or confront them. If we stay behind them, they’ll slow us down. We don’t have time to watch our movements.”
Time. It all came down to time. The decision weighed on him as he debated what choice would best serve Brenna’s rescue.
“Did they have any captives with them?” Celina asked.
“Not out in the open. A few tents were already set up and had movement inside.”
Emotions and thoughts clashed in his mind. His desire to take out any group that could be the one that took Brenna warred with the need for urgency. Confronting the group would not only slow them down; it posed a danger for their own noncombatant.
Celina’s question rang loudly in his mind. Could he live with walking away on the possibility that they didn’t have another child captive? The lines defining his mission blurred in the rising mists of moonlight as he ran through their choices.
Finally, he looked at Cass, who would be his comrade in arms if they chose to engage the group. “Best guess. Any chance they have a captive?”
“High. It’s likely they already have someone in tow. That type of activity increases the closer you get to the borders. I don’t like the numbers though. A typical team is three or four people. It’s the only way to do quick hits and move fast. Same reason our teams are that size. But there is a way for us not to guess.” She looked at Celina, raising a brow in question. “Can you check? They’re not that far away.”
Celina tipped her head in consideration. “I don’t know if I can do it from a distance with a stranger. It works well with Connor because of our familial bond.”
Cass shrugged. “A lot of our warriors don’t learn the full extent of their abilities until they’re under duress in the field. Sometimes necessity breeds skill.”
“That’s true. Alright. Let me try.”
Intense concentration transformed Celina’s face into a serious mask. Watching her reach and connect with Connor each night had given Rodric more education on magic than Celina probably realized. He was getting more comfortable being near her when she did this and was grateful she hadn’t pushed the healing magic he still struggled with. Still, he stepped back to give her space. Cass noticed the distance but didn’t comment.
Reaching was draining on Celina, but this time, she stayed standing. Watching her intently, he caught the slight flinch and deepening of lines at her mouth as she sought the child. He knew she could feel the strength of Connor’s lifeforce and how much pain and trauma his body was fighting when she connected to him. What was she feeling now?
A sharp intake of breath broke his resolve, and he stepped forward, wrapping an arm around her waist so that she could lean back against him.
The instant he touched her, a sprinkling of gold invaded his vision, hovering around Celina like mist. Why hadn’t he ever noticed that before? She reached for Connor almost every night, usually from sitting on top of her bedroll before he joined her.Strange.
Her body stiffened in his hold, belying the tension brewing within her. He caught a twitch of amusement from Cass as he pulled Celina more protectively into his chest. When she finally stopped seeking the captive, she looked at him with anger gleaming in her eyes.
“You have to get in there now.” The emotion coming off Celina was so strong, he could almost feel it like a weight as she leaned against him. “They have a captive, a teenage boy, and he’s in bad shape. He must have fought them really hard to be so damaged. They tend to leave the kids alone unless they’re fighters.”
Vivid memories rolled through Rodric’s mind. The young man at the orphanage, skin covered in bruises and deep cuts, as he lifted his terrified little sister into his arms. Sarai’s friend, injured while protecting her, needing internal healing to save him from death.
Celina radiated a firm decisiveness, practically trembling in fury as she gripped his arm. He marveled at the trust she put in him while simultaneously sickening at choosing to put her directly in danger. But he couldn’t have it both ways, and a child’s life was at stake. One in the same situation as Brenna. The distinct shape of her bracelet pressed into his heart from his shirt pocket, an icon of the only decision he could honorably make.
