He gave Alanna a gentle push behind him where she’d be safe and drew back his wings, battle ready, looking for the fight he knew that Reece would provide.
But Reece was obviously too drunk to notice the danger he was in. He turned his mocking gaze on Alanna where she stood half behind Val and gave her a contemptuous bow. “Well, well, trouble in paradise. Just as I predicted. When you’re tired of creeping out of Val’s tent, Your Majesty, perhaps you’ll remembermyoffer.”
“Your what?” Val took a step forward, lifting his fists, daring him to say the words again.
Reece grinned and lifted his wineskin in a sardonic salute, not noticing that Tristan and Rafe had walked up behind him. “I’m doing you a favor, mate. Women are nothing but trouble.”
He tilted the skin toward Alanna as she stepped out from behind Val. “Especially that one.”
He felt Alanna stiffen beside him, and cast a backward glance at her pale face and her wide, tormented eyes. But it was the way she held her hands, clenched tight to hide the trembling, that truly cut him.
He wanted to kill Reece for upsetting her. But he didn’t want to horrify her by turning into a monster in front of her again.
He was torn between his need to rip Reece apart and his promise to himself that he would always protect Alanna, his commitment to never frightening her again.
And that inner conflict ratcheted his fury up even higher.
He spun back to the inebriated sergeant, his helpless outrage ripping through him as he roared, “She is your queen! And she is completely innocent!”
Reece took a stumbling step back in the face of his rage and would have fallen if Tristan hadn’t caught him and shoved him back to standing.
But it didn’t shut him up; if anything, his face grew even more belligerent. Reece chuckled maliciously. “You can stop with your ridiculous denials, Val. None of us believed it the first time, and everyone knows she’s been spending the nights in your tent.” He shook his head, tutting. “You’re pathetic.”
A stunned silence fell as Reece pushed Tristan’s hand away, oblivious to his captain’s look of incandescent fury, and stumbled away still muttering about treacherous women.
His words sucked all the anger out of Val, leaving behind a hollow sense of confused betrayal. But he didn’t think Reece had lied. No, the man had been too certain of himself. And while everyone had looked appalled and enraged with Reece, no one had looked surprised.
Reece had told the truth, but Val still didn’t understand it.
“What is he talking about?” he demanded, knowing his voice sounded rough and bewildered, hating how stupid he felt. Reece had called him pathetic, maybe he was.
He spun, looking from face to face, but no one would meet his eyes. No one except Alanna.
He wrapped his hands around her arms, wanting to shake her, wanting to kiss her, not knowing what he wanted.
Focusing all his attention on her clear green gaze, he lowered his voice to a whisper and asked again, “What is he talking about?”
She stayed relaxed under his hands as she looked around the small crowd and then lifted her voice, sounding every inch the queen. “Can we have a moment, please?”
The others melted away, leaving them standing together in silence as she watched him and he watched her, his hands still clasped around her biceps, as if he was unable to let her go.
What had she done? Why was he the only person who didn’t know?
He knew that he was looming over her, huge and intimidating against her slender form, and he tried to soften his voice as he prompted her again. “Your Majesty?”
That did make her stiffen. “I’ve asked you to call me Alanna.” Her jaw clenched, and he wondered if she was going to stamp her foot.
He liked that spark of rage. Defiance she had never shown before to anyone. Liked that she felt safe enough to show it to him. But he still needed an answer. “Why does he think you’ve been spending the night in my tent?”
She looked away for a moment, then lifted her chin and met his eyes. “Because I have.”
It was like being in a dream where people were talking, but the words didn’t make any sense.
“Why?” he asked helplessly.
She took a tiny step closer to him, her arms soft and warm beneath his hands, and tilted her head to look back up at him. “Because you were having such terrible dreams and I wanted to help.”
She wanted to help with his dreams. Gods. He let his hands drop and stepped back, fighting down the urge to fall to his knees in misery as he replied flatly, “You felt sorry for me.”
