But the box held true–like everything else Dara did.
“Thanks,” I said.
I barely moved my lips and didn’t look his way.
He cleared his throat and lingered.
The same dance we’d been wrapped up in for the past weeks whenever we crossed paths. And we intersected way too often, like our bodies drifted together like magnets.
When Dax and I went to train behind the fortress, there was Ryker stomping along with his warriors, discussing war strategies.
I raced down to the kitchens to sneak some scones, Ryker was hurrying back from whatever crater business made him frown like he wanted to call a storm down upon us.
I went up to the roof at the crack of dawn to check for strange messages on the rim shards, he and Sylvester were already there, keeping watch.
Each time, we played the same game–this one uncomfortable, clumsy, and unfinished. My heart raced as I caught a glimpse of him, averted my gaze, and mumbled, “Hello” if anyone else was within listening distance.
A traitor traipsed among us, they didn’t need to know the Commander and Huntress weren’t speaking to each other.
Or I wasn’t speaking to him. Because he always tensed, worked his jaw, and approached me with the same muttered, almost pleading reply.
“We need to talk,” he’d say, only for me to hear.
I always said, “Later”, and hurried away.
Then later never came.
Ryker didn’t press, allowing me time I didn't know what to do with. I had no clue whenlaterwould end, but it wasn’t today.
“We need to talk,” he said once more as I kept staring at the crate.
As always, his voice slid into my mind, pulling me toward him. The current was so strong, I locked my knees. “Not now.”
Each time I felt close to caving in, I remembered Evie’s pain through the palaver, ignored the sweaty, burning dreams, and carried on as normal.
Only this didn’t feel normal. It felt like I was deceiving myself, too, disregarding the instinct to be closer to him.
Yet I did. Teeth gritted, palms fisted, gaze avoided.
“Right on time.” Dax appeared behind me, opening the door only a sliver more, and squinted Ryker’s way. “Boy, Allie wasn’t lying when she said you won’t like bringing in strange things into your crater. That vein on your forehead doesn’t look healthy.”
“Nothing stranger here than you.” Ryker’s cold gaze landed on him. “Any advantage for war.”
I stuttered a breath, and this one had nothing to do with avoiding Ryker.
War was coming, and the few Blood Brotherhood spies who’d survived talked of a sea of soldiers, larger than any of us could have anticipated.
I had no power over the Protectorate army–but I had powerful cousins.
Cousins who could carve secret protective runes into stones easy to hide in any environment. A grain of an advantage, but one nonetheless.
Dax’s eyes jumped between Ryker and I and sighed in the awkward stillness.
“I’m in no hurry for more inter-Clan relations after that sham of a wedding, but you two need to get it together before we leave for battle,” he grumbled and grabbed one side of the crate. “We’ll take it from here,Commander.”
“Yes, thank you,” I mumbled–then kicked myself, because I’d already said that, and I didn’t want him thinking this small gesture erased everything else that had happened.
“You’re welcome,” he muttered and I could feel his eyes burning against my forehead.
