“Really? You don’t think it's silly?” Her voice dropped to a murmur; her eyes riveted on their clasped hands. “Spoiled?”
“Gods, no. Absolutely not.” Where had she even got that idea?
You know exactly where she got it. From you.
“But you didn’t like it?” she asked in an even softer voice before he could follow the thought.
He kissed her again and then wrapped his hands over her closed fist, holding her safely. “I was… overwhelmed… for a moment, that’s all.”
She still didn’t look at him. “Then why don’t you want it?”
“I… want you to take care of it for us. I don’t want to take away your chance of escape, especially not with Dornar and who knows how many of his men down there.”
She nodded slowly, finally lifting her eyes to his. He didn’t know what she was looking for, but he didn’t flinch; what he’d said was true. It wasn’t everything, but it was true.
“Okay.” She gave a small nod and tucked it back into her jacket’s inner pocket.
He’d set two fingers under her chin and tilted it up, needing those plump lips on his, when he heard the whistle.
He didn’t even think, he simply reacted. He flung her to the ground and covered her with his body, surrounded by the long, damp, swaying grasses. Only once he felt her, soft and safe beneath him, did he fully register what he’d heard. Not just any whistle. The high, piercing whistle of a hunting bird.
He rolled to the side, keeping her body covered, brought his fingers to his lips, and whistled back.
He was immediately answered by a series of high blasts followed by two low. No one else knew that signal. And none of them would share the code, not even under torture. It was definitely them.
“Come on.” He rolled to his feet and then put a hand down to lift her. “Help is here.”
“Help?” She clasped his hand uncertainly. “What kind of help?”
“The Hawks.” Gods. A huge weight lifted from his shoulders. His brothers had made it. Together they could keep Lucy safe. They would have plans and money and resources that would get them through the town and somewhere that she could regroup. He didn’t have to worry that she would be captured in that trap of a town.
He grabbed her hand, grinning madly, and pulled her down the grassy slope, down toward the tree-filled gorge that led toward the town.
There they were, emerging from the shadows. Tall men on horseback; Tristan in the lead, then Tor, Jeremiel, Rafe, Jos, and Garet close behind. Everyone except Val and Reece.
Salvation.
A shaft of blinding pain struck him. They were her salvation, but they were his ruin. They were the end of his fantasy. They were there to take her away.
Tristan leaped from Altair’s back and sank to one knee, his voice deep and resonant. “Your Majesty.” The others followed behind him, sinking to their knees in a long row.
Beside him, he felt Lucy stiffen and then take a long, slow breath, as if she was gathering herself. Mathos turned to her and smiled. “They’re my friends. You can trust them.”
She let out the breath, and then stepped forward and smiled, a true smile. “It’s so lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
She turned to Tor. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you safe.”
Tor gave her a soft look. “My only concern was for you. Are you well? Has Mathos been looking after you?”
Lucy glanced at him out the corner of her eye, a deep blush climbing up the back of her neck, but she didn’t falter as she agreed warmly, “Yes. He saved me.”
The men all turned to stare at him, and he realized that he was still holding her hand. Like lovers out for a walk.
You are lovers, you idiot.
He dropped her hand, pretending that he didn’t see the flash of surprised hurt cross her face, and stepped back. He forced himself to grin at Tristan and changed the subject. “I’m hoping there’s a plan, Captain?”
Tristan rose from his knees, his face grim. “The town is riddled with Blues. We need to get through it before they realize you’re here and get the queen onto theStar of the Sea.”
