Crimson blooms across her face, a fierce blush that covers her cheeks and nose, down to her neck.
“I’ll take your reddening face as a yes.”
I stride over and untie her wrists and ankles, carefully massaging circulation back into her wrists.
“I removed the gag after you fell asleep,” I explain, casting her an apologetic smile that she doesn’t notice since she still refuses to meet my gaze.
Mayah rises and eats her breakfast without a word.
I can practically see the gears shifting in her mind. Her cheeks are still flushed with embarrassment, each movement stilted and awkward. She can’t bring herself to even glance in my direction.
Poor, embarrassed baby.
As much as I’m enjoying the pretty flush that paints her cheeks, my heart wants to set her at ease. To see her smile. To loosen the tension knotting her shoulders.
“Remember when I said I had shared my power before? It was one of my soldiers—a powerful earthwielder. We were running low on food, all our reserves near drained. Normally, he could grow an entire field—carrots, potatoes, berries—ready to harvest, in about an hour.
“But he’d been injured in the last battle and hadn’t fully recovered. So I channeled some of my power into him. And he grew enough food for two battalions in thirty minutes. But afterward…” I chuckle lightly. “It took eight men to restrain him. He kept trying to sneak into my tent.”
A startled laugh bursts from her lips, and it coaxes a wide grin to my face.
“What did you do?” she asks, giggling.
“He injured his guards with his wielding. After that, we used valerian root to sedate him. His wife still lords it over him.” Another sweet laugh bubbles from her, drifts through the air, and brands itself on my heart. “You didn’t try half as hard as he did. I’m a little offended, if I’m being honest.”
She keeps laughing, tears streaming down her cheeks. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Eventually, her laughter subsides, smile slowly fading. “That couple I told you about, the one caught power sharing … they were just, they—”
Her face flushes prettily.
“I’ve known couples who power share for … recreational purposes.”
“Have you ever done it?”
I shake my head. “It takes a great deal of trust.” Her warm gaze pulls at my heart, like it’s tethered to her. “It’s not something I’ve found yet.”
We sit in comfortable silence, until Mayah says, “Thank you. For saving my life. I would’ve died if you hadn’t shared your power with me.” She averts her gaze. “And … for not taking advantage of me last night. I know I didn’t make it easy on you.” Her eyes track the love bites lining my neck, before rising to meet my gaze. “And for your kindness about it now.”
There’s something aching in my chest, a horrible, throbbing pain laced with yearning, with a hopelesswant. Her expression is so endearing, so trusting, that my lips curve into a soft smile despite the pain in my heart.
We’re packing up camp when I say, “You called me Zev last night.”
She freezes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I liked it.” I rub the back of my neck, heart hammering my ribs. “It reminded me that … maybe I’m still someone worth trusting.” I give her another faint smile. “So, yeah … you can call me Zev. If you want.”
I hope she does.
Chapter Eighteen
“Whatwilltheweddingbe like?” she asks me one night after we’ve eaten. Her fingers tap a frantic rhythm on her thigh. We’re mere days from the Arbinji base, and Mayah has seemed more nervous, eyes constantly scanning the dense trees while we walk.
I don’t know if she’s searching for rebels or Arbinji soldiers.
“Opulent. Majestic. A bit boring, honestly.”
She rolls her eyes. “I mean the ceremony itself. What do I have to do?”
“Walk down an aisle. Say a few vows. Promise to act in the best interests of Arbinj.” I scrunch my eyes, trying to remember. I’ve only attended a handful of weddings—a few noblemen, and the occasional soldier in my command. “And there’s a dance at the reception.”
