My mind lured me, replaying an image I created: Ronan, alone in his tent, that same hand I had drenched still slick with me, stroking himself in the dark, claiming me with every slow pull.
A smile tugged unbidden at my lips as I turned my face from Elva’s scrutiny, and then, deliberately, I dropped the image down the bond.
His laugh rolled through.Careful,he taunted.Keep sending me images like that, and I won’t stop at my hand.
A gentle blaze flooded my chest, lower,everywhere. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to smother the threatening grin.
Elva smoothed her skirts, her fan forgotten in her lap as her lips pursed, then parted, as if she’d been working herself up to this. “I want to train more,” she confessed. “After what happened with the pixies...I felt useless. Iwasuseless.” Her lashes dipped, then lifted, a quiet resolve flickering beneath the shame. “Next time, I can’t just run. I won’t.Maybe...maybe Elysian could train me harder? Even a little.” Her doe eyes lifted, hopeful.
I nodded, but too quickly, too distracted. “Mm. Yes. Elysian would love that.”
Smoke slipped into my mind, curling like fingers around my throat.
You’re distracted; I can feel it. Thinking about me? Or about how you felt on my hand?
My thighs pressed together instinctively.
Elva leaned closer, mistaking my flush for concern. “I mean it, V. I don’t want to slow us down again. If war is really coming, I need to be ready.”
I forced myself upright, clearing my throat, trying to smother the fever that simmered low in my belly. “You won’t slow us down. And we know Elysian’s willing...”
Another lash across the bond, this one rolling in sultry waves.I could teach you how to beg.
I coughed, choking on absolutely nothing.
Elva blinked, startled. “Are you even listening?”
“Yes,” I rasped, fanning myself harder. “Of course I am.”
The bond thrummed again, smoke curling with laughter, wicked and triumphant.
Enough.My shields slammed up, casting him into silence. Elva deserved more than half of me.
She sat down across from me, fingers twisted in her shirt. “I don’t want to just be something fragile to protect,” she whispered, almost like she was ashamed to admit it. “I want to be more. To be strong. To be brave. Maybe even—” her lips quirked, hesitant, “a warrior. Like you.”
I reached for her, clasping her hands in mine. “Elva, youare, whether you know it or not, the most important one here. The heart of us. We must protect you. But if you want to learn, we’ll teach you.I’llteach you. But know this: no matter what, you will always be the first one I protect. Above everything. Above everyone.”
“I don’t just want to be the one shielded, Verena. I want to stand with you. Even if I falter, I want to try.”
I told her, fierce and quiet all at once. “Then I will be with you when you prevail.”
A truth pressed into my bones, undeniable. That I had been forged for this, for her. To protect. To guard. To bleed first.
We had just reached the mouth of a maze of canyons when Nezra’s raven shrieked, bolting skyward, wings beating fast as if chased. It wanted no part of the labyrinth yawning before us, its split swallowing the last crumbs of daylight.
Ford stood at the front, squinting into the black. “Looks friendly.” He toed a loose stone into the dark. “I’m sure nothing wants to eat us in there.”
Wells groaned, tightening the grip on his pack. “You couldn’t sound less convincing if you tried.”
“I’m offering moral support,” he replied, lifting both hands. “It’s called optimism.”
Callum stepped closer to the entrance, flame hovering above his palm. “My optimism is screaming…no.”
Peering back into the darkness, Ford cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hello, anyone home? Preferably someone small and harmless.” Callum elbowed him against the arm.
Elva shivered beside me, her fingers grabbing for my sleeve. “Why is it...vibrating like that?”
Ford lifted his sword as Ronan’s boots scuffed toward him. “Maybe it likes us,” Ford said, winking.
