She stood a foot from him, hands settled on her hips. The fumes off the fire clouded his eyes as they lazily looked her over.
A muscle flexed in his jaw, ticking like restraint itself. Then he lowered his voice, the growl he only reserved for moments like this. “Don’t tempt me, Viper. I’m already too close to giving in.”
“You keep promising consequences,” she murmured, eyes flicking to his mouth. “And yet, here I stand. Unpunished.”
“For the love of the gods,” Ford groaned, rubbing his temples, “Are you two done eye-murdering each other?”
Verena blinked, stepping back like she’d surfaced from a spell while Ronan exhaled hard through his nose, straightening, jaw still tight.
“We should go back.” Callum scanned the forest line. “Ask if the soldiers have made it this far.”
“I’ll go with you,” Verena offered, stepping forward before he could refuse.
“No.” Ronan’s reply came quickly.
Her eyes slid his way, leveling him with a look that was all venom and slow appraisal. One that said she was debating whether to strangle him or let him keep talking just to regret it later.
“I swear, I think you’re pining for death.”
“I think,” he said evenly, “the villagers just watched you speak to a wolf. And I’m not convinced they’ll be feeling charitable toward you right now.”
“They know me,” she countered. “They know I’m harmless.”
He almost smiled. “That’s a generous word for you.”
She moved back toward him before Callum stepped between them without a word, cutting her off with a look.
His meaning was clear.Stay put.
Adjusting his cloak, Callum started toward the path back to the village. Verena tried to follow only for Elva to reach for her hand, shaking her head in a gentleno.
Already following, Ronan said, “I’ll go with him. Elysian’s in charge.”
Verena scoffed, head snapping up, body moving forward before she could stop herself. “Over my dead body.”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “That’s usually how anarchy starts.”
“And ends,” she smiled.
Elysian’s lip curled, a muted animal sound rumbling from his throat, warning.
Verena arched her brow. “You hiss like a damn housecat, you know that?”
That comment only earned a louder snarl and she rolled her eyes, unimpressed. Leaving Ely to groan under his breath, muttering something aboutburning the entire forest down and being done with it.
From behind, Ford called out, “If anyone dies, I’m taking their horse.”
His eyes were covered by cloth, hands cradling the back of his head as he sprawled on the ground near the fire.
Ronan exhaled, a wisp of smoke slinking along the ground toward Ford. It tapped his shoulder and Ford ripped the cloth from his eyes, searching for who’d touched him. Just as he turned, the smoke leveled at his eyes, and he swallowed.
“If you touch my horse,” Ronan growled, “I’ll gut you with its saddle strap.”
The path weaved spiral toward the village, a scatter of clay roofs and smoke-bitten chimneys shoved between the hills.
Ronan and Callum reached it just as the sun went cold, the scent of night heavy in the air. Lanterns burned low in every window, their light honey-soft against the dark.
Wide-eyed children darted between doorways; men stood with spears that were more rust than metal. Ronan and Callum were met with cautious eyes, murmurs, until one of the villagers recognized Callum and the tension shifted to relief.
