This loyal, ethical, selfless warrior deserved everything I couldn’t offer. Not according to his principles.
Nor to the laws of survival. From the sideline, the hedge rattled. But for all his natural abilities, Aire failed to detect it.
So much the better. With every breath I drew, I could ensure he left here untouched. No matter what it cost, or how it destroyed me, or how badly I’d have to eviscerate him to get the job done. I would bury the pain, just as I did whenever crossing weapons with an adversary.
Amplifying my voice, I drove the knife home. “I don’t want to remember this night.” My gaze lifted to his. “Or you.”
A direct cut. A killing blow.
I’d told countless lies in my life. But this one was my best.
Shock contorted Aire’s handsome features, wounded apostrophes trenching between his dark brows. “Has the gift offended you?”
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
Of course, he didn’t. Intuitiveness aside, this soldier couldn’t tell the difference between my heart and my words.
The most effective way to dodge another arrow? Rehash old arguments.
Putting on a show, I huffed. “You insist on guarding me, and now you insist on supplying me with your idea of proper equipment. When are you going to realize I don’t need your help? I can make my own way, and I can maintain my weapons just fine.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Your ferocity isn’t being questioned. I’ve only ever tried to protect—”
“I don’t want your protection!” I shouted, squeezing the whetstone. “I don’t want anything from you. If you can’t get that through your stubborn skull, then exercise your sixth fucking sense!”
“I have no sixth sense with you!”
I paused. “What?”
With his mouth closed, Aire expelled a thick breath. “I cannot read you. Not as I can with everyone else.”
My lips parted. Why not? How did his sensory perception work? This knight rarely talked about that.
Aire braced his hands on his hips. He bowed his head in weariness, the burden of his gift pulling down those massive shoulders.
“Sometimes the wind carries signs to me. Other times, it’s intrinsic. I do not know why you’re immune.” He faced me once more, relief alleviating his tone. “But I’m glad of it.”
Because otherwise, that would be invasive. It troubled Aire to read others and sense bygone events that had occurred in any given location, such as a castle or a rainforest. He never said as much, but he didn’t have to. I saw this plainly.
All those times I worked hard to mask my feelings, to the point of anxiety. I might be mad at him for withholding, yet it wouldn’t last. If we were keeping score, I’d done worse to him.
I nodded, accepting his explanation.
With the same perseverance he used to inspire his troops, Aire clasped my shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric, stunning me into silence. “Accepting someone’s help isn’t a weakness,” he emphasized. “It does not invalidate your strength. Family, fellowships, and friends protect each other. That’s what we do.”
The declaration struck me to the core. “Maybe so, but who I rely on is my business to decide. You don’t get to wear me like some badge of honor, so stop playing the perfect savior.”
A remote memory flickered in his pupils. “I’m not perfect.”
You are to me.
For years, I’d been squirreling every trait about this man, amassing the details like breadcrumbs to snack on whenever I went hungry. He drank apple cider by the bucket-load. He whispered to his warhorse while brushing the animal’s mane. Whenever he stretched for training, he started by rolling his neck. And he touched his sword hilt whenever something baffled him.
Hawks flocked to this man. So did every breeze.
Over the hood, his palm bolstered my shoulder not like a suitor, but like a sibling. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help you.”
