“Anaiah.”
The whispered endearment teased her lips, and her heart stuttered.
“Raiden.”She reminded herself that he was injured.His memory gone.Afraid of his mysteriously shadowed past.“We can’t.”
Leaning back, he moved his hand up to settle comfortably at her hip.Oh, how she wanted that touch to become familiar.
Staring into his soulful gaze, she fought to regain her logic.“You could have a mate somewhere waiting for you.”
“I don’t.”His denial was firm and confident.
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I do.”His brows dipped in frustration.“But I don’t know why I’m so certain.”
The bright flames he was eliciting deflated quickly at the reminder of his lost memories, and his hand left her side to rub over his heart.
She believed him but wasn’t willing to risk it.A convenient excuse that also kept her heart safe.Instead of stepping back, she leaned into him and hugged him.His arm wound tightly around her, holding her to him.
“I just want to be Raiden for a while until I recover.Not a damaged warrior threatened by memories.”His voice was a strained plea, making her guess that he’d awoken to a nightmare like the numerous flashes he’d had on the journey.
The harsh reality seemed to settle like a cloak over him, and she wished she could ease it from his shoulders.Unfortunately, she had a feeling they’d be happening more and more as his mind healed.
“What did you see?”she asked.
“Violence, death.”He shuddered.“I don’t want it to darken your home.”
Tightening her arms, she encouraged him to lean into her.As he did, she caught sight of something she hadn’t noticed before when she’d been focused on his hair.
A small tattoo inked his shoulder blade—a sword crossed with a lightning bolt.A single spot of color shone dark purple on the hilt of the sword, reminiscent of the real version he’d been holding when she found him.There was something very formal about the image that tugged at her mind.
“Do you think it’s a bad sign that I’m afraid to get my memories back?”
“Why would you fear them?”Letting go of him, Daya stepped back and met his eyes.Something in that dream had to have made him wary.
“Eldridge is crawling with mercenaries—they outnumber the actual military.”His expression flickered with pain, revealing the depth of his concern.“And then there’s this.”He took a small, circular object out of his pocket and handed it to her.“I don’t recognize it, not specifically.But my gut says it’s a nasty bit of evidence.”
The notion of him as a sword for hire was completely irrational, but then, fear rarely stemmed from logic.The medallion in her hand made no sense based on what she’d seen of him.
“It’s a contract coin,” she said carefully.
Most often used by the more notorious mercenary bands, the coins were a very old practice.She didn’t have a ton of modern knowledge, but her ancient knowledge was better than most.Very few of those organized groups still existed, but she was holding the call sign of one of the largest, most ruthless groups.
“With who?”Raiden pressed when she remained silent.
“The Vipers.”She sighed as she handed it back, knowing he would use it as an excuse to see himself negatively.“They’re—”
“Assassins.”
That was undeniably true, though they thrived on all types of violence.Or they did, historically, anyway.She didn’t bother denying it.
“You won’t know what it means until you get your memories back.Don’t let it haunt you in the meantime.”Reaching out, she caressed his jaw.“You’re a good man, Raiden.Believe me if you don’t believe yourself.”
He stared up at her for a moment, turmoil slowly receding from his eyes.Finally, the tension in his shoulders eased and his smile broadened with a mischievous glint, completely altering the energy flowing around them.
“Think you could tame me like one of your hawks?”
His full grin made her breath stutter and halt, trapping her response.And he thought his blade skills made him dangerous?He was wrong.Very, very wrong.That infectious smile was lethal.
