Signe beamed at her god, and Mariah again marveled at it. At the easy closeness of their relationship.
It made her wonder—and not for the first time—where Onita had gone so far astray.
Signe and Callamus retreated to their respective tents, leaving Matheo, Mariah, and Andrian in the clearing.
Andrian cleared his throat, standing first. His eyes darted between the tents, Mariah, and the tree line. His hair—still slightly damp from the quick foray he’d taken to the stream winding just inside the woods—glistened in the dying firelight.
“I’ll…I’ll take the first watch.”
Matheo snorted, pushing up from the grass. “Absolutely not.”
“Matheo—”
“Andrian,” Matheo interrupted. He pinned Andrian with a commanding stare, looking so much like his older brother. “You may have bathed, but you look exhausted. You heard Signe; we’re going by foot from here on. You need to rest or else your ass is getting left behind.”
The two men glared at each other, unblinking.
Mariah sighed and stood. “Matheo’s right, Andrian,” she said softly. His blue stare swung to her, softening as if on instinct. With a small hesitation, she raised her hand to him. “Let him take first watch. Come get some rest.”
They stared at each other across the fire, the light flickering between them and tension writing across his brow, and she had a fleeting surge of panic.
That he would say no. That whatever had happened to him back in Khento would keep him out of her tent, that everything they’d spent the past year building would crumble to the ground right here in this quiet, moonlit clearing.
“Please,” she begged. “I don’t care what happened. You’re mine, and you’re here. That’s all that matters.”
No matter how hard she tried to push those words down their bond, that bridge of magic between their souls stayed silent.
After what could’ve been a breathless eternity, Andrian’s hands loosened at his side. He strode slowly around the fire,stopping in front of her. He rested his palm in hers, and Mariah’s chest caved in at the searing warmth that ignited and spread through her at that small touch.
Without another word, he followed her into her tent. They settled onto the pallet and furs she’d arranged on the firm ground. As if it were as natural as breathing, he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her into the curve of his body, his breath quickly deepening and slowing.
It didn’t take long for her to follow him into sleep, sandalwood and rain all around her.
For the first time in weeks, her dreams were blessedly, beautifully silent.
Chapter 29
“This looks like a good place to stop for the night.”
Ciana glanced around at the small outcropping of trees, all scraggly branches and small leaves. “Really? A little exposed, don’t you think?”
Sebastian shrugged, but there was an uncertainty in the set of his shoulders. “I’m not sure we’re going to get much better, Cee. It’s almost sunset. Besides”—he glanced behind them— “Delaynie looks about ready to strangle Quentin. She deserves a break.”
Ciana twisted in her saddle, a smile spreading across her face. Delaynie sat beside Quentin on the driver’s bench of their small, covered cart, arms crossed and back leaned against the hardwood as Quentin chatted at her animatedly.
“I don’t know,” Ciana said. “It looks to me like she’s having a great time.”
Sebastian grinned. “Well, regardless. This stretch of the marshlands is about as bare as it gets. I think we either camp here or we end up traveling well into the night looking for something that might not be any better.”
He had a point. They’d been traveling south for two days. The desert dunes of Kreah had slowly shrunken, rocks sprouting from the ground before tall grasses and spindly trees erupted beside them. The air grew more humid, moisture beginning to dot the ground in small puddles and pools.
Now the marshes spread around them in all directions, green-gold stalks waving in the damp breeze. It was marred only by small copses of trees like the one they stood under, but even those were few and far between.
As far as Ciana knew, they were still in Kreah, but she didn’t think the Idrixian border was far, either.
“—and that’s why I think the desert sphinxes live in the mountains west of Kreah. Kiira was definitely full of shit; I bet they’re not even that dangerous.”
“If you decide to go find out someday, I’m not sewing you up again after,” Delaynie said as the cart rolled to a halt. She slid from the seat, brushing her auburn hair from her face.
