My disobedient eyes drop to the bare skin of her thighs, and I clench my fists at my sides, lest I do something incredibly stupid.
Like throw her over my shoulder and march back down the hall.
“I came here because of the storm. I didn’t think you’d notice,” she says, her lips twisting in a petulant pout. It tugs at my heart.
Not real. Not real. Not real.
For all I know, Tumaas is in there with her and Sura is on her way out. My lips press into a grim line, but I can’t stop the words that spill over. “It’s just the two of you?”
She stares at me for a painful beat before muttering, “Yes.”
I don’t know if I respond. Just know that I can’t stand there a moment longer with her in that skiesdamned nightgown. When the door to our chambers slams shut behind me, I let myself lean back against it.
I linger in the shower, letting the hot water soothe the ache in my muscles.
Nothing will soothe the ache in my heart.
Not while I stay here.
I fall asleep on the bed, wrapped in frost and winter rose.
Chapter Sixty-Two
It’sfartooearlyfor someone to be jabbing a finger into my chest.
I slept fitfully the night before—unused to the soft mattress and plagued by Mayah’s scent enveloping me.
Today, Tairna has me training the fighters. Of all the rotating tasks, I despise this one the most—instructing warriors who’ve faced me in battle, soldiers I’d once commanded, and nonwielders who see me as a monster skies-bent on eradicating them.
Which is why, when Sura storms into my path on my way toward the training grounds, jabs a finger into my chest and snarls, “You better not hurt her,” I am exceedingly irritated.
“I have no intention of hurting her,” I manage through clenched teeth. I try to step around her, but she matches my stride, blue eyes blazing with cold fury and something else. Resignation, maybe.
“I mean it,” she hisses. “I swear by the Tides, if you hurt her, inany way, I will kill you. Slowly. Painfully. Brutally. And I’ll enjoy every second of it. I’ll unleash the rage that’s been festeringin my stomach since that skiescursed night. I’ll avenge thehundredsof warriors you murdered in cold blood in the dark. Every fucking Tundrayni you’ve murdered in this tidesforsaken war.” Her voice cracks, tears lining her eyes. “I’ll avengeDaak.”
My throat constricts until I can’t draw in even half a breath.
She takes a step back, twin braids swaying. “Don’t hurt her anymore. You’ve hurt us enough.” Then she spins on her heel and strides away.
I don’t know how long I stand frozen after she leaves.
Hours later, sitting at the table in Tairna’s office, her words still rattle in my brain.
Don’t hurt her anymore.
Don’t hurt her anymore.
Don’t hurt her anymore.
The door groans open, and Mayah enters in a frenzied rush.
I do a double-take.
Instead of her usual tunic and leggings, she’s wearing fighting leathers. The style and cut is similar to the leathers the rebels wear, but instead of black or gray or brown, she’s clad in the palest shade of blue. The leather hugs her thighs and chest, a wide brown belt cinching her waist.
She looks like a warrior.
She looks perfect.
