He looked at her for a long moment, his dark eyes filled with some complicated emotion she couldn’t read. “I think you should do what makes you happy,” he said at last. He lifted his hand, almost to her face, as if he was going to brush his fingers down her cheek, but then he dropped it and glanced away.
Do what made her happy. Was that his way of saying she should go with them when they turned west?
What made her happy? She hadn’t been happy, not truly happy, for a long time. No, that wasn’t true. She had been happy spending time with Tor.
It was time to start living again. To let herself take risks. It was time to open her heart and choose. And she chose to stay with Tor.
Chapter Six
Tor watchedKeely as she rolled her eyes and laughed at something Mathos said. Gods. He cracked his knuckles, one after the other, and forced down the urge to wring his friend’s bloody neck. All of his friends. Starting with Mathos and moving swiftly on to Reece.
Every day he spent with Keely, he wanted to be with her more. But he would never ask for it. Not now. Not with her going back to Verturia and leaving him behind. She had turned those clear, jade-green eyes on him and asked what he thought, and he hadn’t had a clue what to say. Fucking words.
Should he ask her to stay with him, when she had as good as told him that she wanted to go home? Should he tell her that his entire existence felt gray, and the only ray of light that broke through the haze was her? That his life was now defined by his duty to the squad—the Hawks were all he had left—and if Tristan said they would be retreating to live on the moon tomorrow, he would simply tighten his saddlebags and follow.
He could still hear their words.Our son, Tor, son of Pellin, son of Bar-Ulf, died this day.He wasn’t dead, of course not, but something inside himhaddied. Some understanding of the world and his place in it.
He was a disowned former guard with nothing to his name and no future to speak of. The Hawks were heading west into the wild mountains, far from the homes they’d known. How could he ask her to be part of that? And if they ever, by some miracle, made it back to the palace, what then? What future was there for her—a Verturian in a Brythorian court? A court run by people like his parents. People who would never accept her, let alone appreciate her.
No. He couldn’t ask her to stay. Even though it would break something in him for her to go. She would be much better off going back to her own home as she planned. She would start a new life—singing as she worked, rolling her eyes, hunting with that lethal crossbow, and laughing at her own jokes while she cared for all the people around her. She would be far away from him, but she would have a good life. He wanted her to have that.
He had told her to do whatever made her happy, knowing it would send her away. And now he had to sit and watch her laugh and joke with the rest of the squad while the evening somehow turned into an impromptu celebration around him.
Alanna and Val had finally… whatever it was they’d done. There had been shouting, then there had been murmuring, then Val had lifted Alanna into his arms and marched through the camp to deposit her in his tent, fastening the flap behind him.
Which of course led Tor to immediately picture what Keely would look like inhistent. That red-gold hair spread out over her creamy skin. Following the scattering of freckles down her chest. His hands would engulf her pert breasts. Gods. He would—
“What do you think, Tor?”
He blinked, trying to clear his head, and looked at Mathos. “About what?”
Mathos chuckled, as if he could guess the direction of Tor’s thoughts before he interrupted. “I was just telling Keely that although the angel Muriel gifted the Apollyon with all those muscles, in the end, we should feel sorry for you, living without drake-given wings like the Mabin or the Tarasque’s inner beast to keep you company.”
Tor grunted. It was exactly the kind of stupid argument Mathos liked to start, and Tor had years of practice at ignoring him.
“I don’t know,” Keely disagreed, grinning. “I think there’s something to be said for a man who doesn’t flap about the place.”
Mathos gave her a smug look until she continued. “Or sparkle in the sunshine like one of the palace jewels.”
Mathos grumbled, and everyone laughed as Tristan passed around a full wineskin. Probably one of Reece’s. Damn, he’d wanted to take his friend’s head right off his shoulders. But Keely was just fine standing up for herself—exactly as he’d known she would be.
Gods, he liked her strength. The way she stood her ground. And under all that bravado, he liked her generosity. Her easy good humor. Her loyalty to her friend.
Tor took his swallow and passed the wine on. Maybe it was better if he didn’t spend his time thinking about Keely. Especially as she’d be leaving after Eshcol… and they would reach Eshcol in the morning.
Mathos heard his grumbling curse and raised an amused eyebrow. And Tor knew that within seconds he would be the punchline of a joke he didn’t want to hear. He stood and said goodnight instead. Made his way into his small tent, and then lay for hours in his bedroll, not sleeping. He stared at the canvas roof of his tent and wondered what would happen when they reached the temple.
Would Keely go north to find her happiness without him as he expected? Or would she change her mind and head west with the squad? What was she doing? Was she already in her tent? Getting ready to go to sleep? That loose shirt of hers drove him insane. Just a small tug and it would be off her shoulder. He could run his knife through that thin cotton far more easily than the heavy leather of her jerkin, strip it all away, and finally see her.
What would she look like with her hair unbound? He would thread his fingers through it, spreading it over her shoulders as she dropped to her knees and opened his breeches. She would look up at him, those big green eyes sparkling as she ever so slowly took him into her mouth and—
Gods.
He kicked off the blankets and spent a long moment considering taking his aching cock into his own hand. But then he reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Keely, and especially not Keely naked, and cracked his knuckles in frustration instead, before shoving his hands behind his head and keeping them there.
The night was long and exhausting, filled with half-formed fantasies and seductive dreams that he pushed away again and again. It was a relief when Mathos called him to take the early patrol and he could finally throw off his constricting blankets and escape the confines of his tent to breathe the fresh, earthy air. Even the softly falling rain was better than being trapped alone with his thoughts. Reece had done him a favor when he asked him to take his patrol.
Tor followed the narrow woodland paths, listening to the birds call and the wind rustle softly through the trees as the rain grew heavier until it fell in steady sheets over the woods.
