“Where is Darcke?” Guner barked.
“As I said, he’s on his way,” Torden replied.
“I didn’t ask you.” Guner stalked up to me, and I pushed my shoulders back. “Heir. Where is your second?”
“He is on his way,” I said, although I could barely feel Darcke at the moment, and I had no idea if it was true or not. But I couldn’t exactly admit that I had no control over my second. Especially now.
Guner moved closer, forcing me to lift my chin. “That wasn’t my question.”
“Calm down, old man.” Darcke and Borje came down the dock as if they were out for a casual stroll. “I’m here. Everyone’s alive. No need to strain that ancient heart of yours.”
A current traced over my skin when Darcke came to my side, standing a little too close, his intimidating presence making my skin tingle. I didn’t dare move when something too perceptive worked across Guner’s face.
“Where were you?” the king’s second demanded.
“With me,” Borje said as he took up the spot beside Torden.
Guner looked ready to yell, but then his teeth slammed together. Spinning on his heel, he stormed back to his spot beside the shaman.
“What did I miss?” Darcke rasped when Guner was out of earshot.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, shuffling away to keep my mind sharp.
Darcke’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Just getting comfortable.”
He scoffed at the lie, closing the distance between us again. “I don’t know if you heard, but my men think there will be more attacks, so you better be comfortable with me right here.”
“Or what?” I challenged, but my heart wasn’t in it, my worry running too deep.
What if I was too distracted by him? What if I couldn’t see clearly because all I could think about was feeling his hands on me when we were close—finding out what faces he’d made when he’d stood behind me on the ship, or if I could make him feel as good as he did me without even touching me? What if my mother was right?
“Heir,” Darcke growled, his eyes flashing.
“Second,” I replied.
“I can’t read you.”
There was a frustration in his voice that I knew intimately.
“I guess that makes two of us,” I snapped.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Darcke snarled.
“What did Borje tell you?” I whispered, furious already because I knew he wouldn’t answer. “Why did he need you to stay behind?”
As I’d suspected, Darcke pressed his lips shut.
“I’m getting really tired of your games,” I said.
“Whatgames?” Darcke’s fingers wrapped around my wrist. “I do not play games.”
“Then what have the past days been? You’ve been hot and cold every single hour, and it’s driving me crazy.”
Darcke’s grip firmed. “Maybe you’re notthe only one going crazy.”
“You never answer my questions outright,” I accused, fighting to keep the spark in my core from spreading.
