Jaxon still hadn’t arrived, and I could tell Xavier was getting worried.
We were all seated in chairs that we had dragged in from wherever we could find. Randy and Julian sat near the fire at the center, and I smirked at Randy’s hand on the back of Julian’s chair. He really was so protective of him, and it made my chest hurt.
Aria was near the tent's entrance, picking at her nails while Dedra hugged her legs to her chest next to her, staring at the fire.
“Soren had given him private instructions, remember? He said we couldn’t know or it would ruin… something or another,” Julian said, waving his non-injured hand in the air. “Jaxon will be fine. He always is.”
Xavier only grunted where he lay on his cot at the far corner of the tent.
“Can we truly trust Soren?” Gunnar asked, who was, of course, reading through a book at the desk. His eyes cut to Xavier, however, with the question, and Xavier grumbled.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Gunnar seemed to chew on his next words, but must have thought them unnecessary as he went back to his reading.
“A twist in fate indeed,” Julian drawled, and Randy snickered next to him. Xavier sighed heavily before sitting up and running his hand through his hair.
I stood, and everyone’s heads turned in my direction. Julian frowned at me, but I grinned, holding up a finger as I ducked out of the tent. Where was it? Ah, there it is.
I bent down and picked up the case of booze I had instructed a soldier to drop off earlier and carried it into the tent.Everyone watched as I placed it down onto the desk in front of Gunnar and pried open the top.
Gunnar's lips spread into a wide grin as he slammed the book he had been reading shut. I picked up a bottle of pulp wine from the container and turned to the others.
“I think we should drink.”
*
Stumbling out of Xavier’s tent hours later, I squinted through the camp, trying to remember which way my tent was. Thick fog still lingered, and there was only the light of the dwindling fires lighting my way.
Blinking, I decided to go right. That seemed like the right decision. Stumbling again, I made it down a row of tents and turned, I think. Wait, where was I going again? I snorted, spinning as I tried to focus my vision. I knew this camp backwards and upwards, I just had to figure out where I was… ah, right, this way.
My foot snagged on a tent stake, sending me tumbling face-first into the mud.
Ow. Fucking fates—who put that there?
I groaned, rolling onto my back, seeing nothing but imaginary stars as my darkened vision blurred further. My nose throbbed, and something wet coated my face.
I reached up, gently placing a finger on the bridge of my nose and—fuck that hurt. Yep, definitely broken. Breathing out sharply a few times, I grasped it—crack—setting it before it healed crooked. Chuckling, I rolled onto my elbows and got to my feet, glaring at the tent stake and backing up a few steps before turning and—Wait. What was I doing?
A garbling noise sounded from my stomach and an image formed in my head. Thinly sliced bread, smoked meat, meltedcheese. My mouth watered and my stomach growled again as I tried to make out where I was and the best route back to my tent. Back to the sandwiches I had hidden under my cot.
Ah—yes this way. I turned back around and I was falling again.
Who keeps putting these stakes here?!
This time I managed to catch myself before I broke my nose a second time and an angry voice sounded from within. I muffled a laugh, the tent flap ripping open as I got on all fours.
“What is going on out here?! I'm trying—” The voice cut off, and I laughed further as Cynthia’s wild red hair came into focus. “Theo?”
“Theondrus, remember,” I said, smirking, pushing up so that I was now kneeling before her in the mud, the cold wet of it making me shiver.
“Are you drunk?”
I squinted up at the beautiful creature now towering above me. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, her breasts pushing against a tight white tunic that fell to just above her knee. My back straightened, and my gaze snagged on the smooth, pale skin of her legs. She was wearing nothing but that tunic. Only unlaced boots on her feet.
My arm was outstretched and I was about to curl my hand around her perfect thigh when her hand shot out, smacking my arm away. I growled deep and low in my throat as my gaze traveled, maybe a bit too slowly, back up her perfect body.
I shook my head and gave her a lopsided smile. “Areyoudrunk?” I countered, and she sighed heavily.
