August refastened his pants. “You’d better keep this bitch under control.” He smoothed his hair and shook out his feathers.
Tristan’s answering chuckle rumbled through Cassandra’s chest. “Thisbitchwould’ve had you on your ass if I hadn’t arrived. She’s not named after the Goddess of Violence for nothing.” Tristan brought his hand up to cup Cassandra’s throat, tilting her head to the side and nipping at her earlobe. “Tell her you’re sorry, then get the fuck out of here.”
August huffed and pushed through the curtains. As soon as they were alone, Cassandra sagged back against Tristan, trembling. He sank onto the banquette, pulling her into his lap as angry yet relieved tears poured forth.
Tristan held her in his powerful arms as he whispered in her ear. “It’s okay, Cass. You’re safe. You’resafe. I’ll rip his wings off before he can lay another hand on you. That’s if you don’t slice his dick off first.”
She choked out a laugh as he brushed away her tears. “What happened?” he asked. “Now you can see why I didn’t want you involved in this.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Honestly, the tears are more from shock than anything else. I should’ve known better than to bait him.”
Tristan gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. The candlelight illuminated the flecks of amber and chestnut dotting his irises. “Donottake responsibility for his actions. This was on him, not you.”
“Actually, it might be on you.” She snorted, and Tristan’s eyes widened in shocked hurt. “Oh, Tristan, I didn’t mean it that way.” She brought a hand to his cheek. “What I mean is, he was ranting about how much more powerful he is than both you and Eamon before he…dragged me in here. I think conquering me was meant to be a strike at you somehow.”
“How angry did he seem? Angry enough to be working with the rebels?”
“Perhaps? But if he was, why would he be so easily provoked?” She blew out a frustrated breath.
Tristan wrapped his arms around her tighter, staring into the candlelight and seeming far more exhausted than he had when his mood had dipped in the carriage.
Cassandra nestled in closer. “Areyouokay?”
He scoffed. “I must lookreallyoff if you’re asking me that after what just happened to you. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re risking your safety to help me.”
“You’ve been risking your safety to help me this week, too,master,” she whispered. She loved the way his breath hitched every time she called him that. “How did your chat with Ronin go? What did he want?”
“I don’t know. Aneka rushed out to get me before we had a chance to speak. He slipped this to me though.”
Tristan reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded scrap of paper.
Cassandra’s heart nearly lurched out of her chest as she opened the tiny note and read the elegantly scrawled message.
Meet me at the Serpent’s Den. Thursday night at 9. Room 702.
In lieu of a signature, there was a single word at the bottom of the note.
Teles.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Xenia awoke with a jolt and her teeth began chattering.
She had no idea when she’d fallen asleep.
Nor when she’d ended up cradled in Cael’s arms rather than slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Holy High Gods, the desert waswayfucking colder at night than she’d expected.
“To be fair,” Cael crooned, his lips brushing her temple, “I did warn you, Blondie. We’ll stop here for the night.”
Cael crunched through the sand towards a group of low rocks ringed by spiky plants. He set Xenia down upon a brick-red boulder, its surface blissfully warm after a day spent absorbing the sun’s rays.
“B-bountif-ful F-faur-rana, that’s div-v-vine.” She hugged the rock, pressing her cheek against the rough surface, and the heat soaked into her skin.
Cael surveyed the prickly greenery, then used Ker to slice into the tallest plant. As clear liquid flowed into the canteen, Xenia became acutely aware of how dry her mouth was.
He handed her the canteen and she took a sip, nearly moaning at the deliciously sweet taste. She chugged half the container before remembering she should save some for him.
