Page 79 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

I hoped that, like me, she took those moments to let go of the intrigue and danger, to forget the pressures and simply rest. Clinging.

Cheers rose—nobles enjoying the display, though some of those cries sounded suspiciously like a different kind of celebration.

But, eventually, the last of the night flowers bloomed, and then we were forced to face the fact that we had a job to do. Both of us.

When the night sky remained dark except for the tiny pinpoints of stars, I looked down at her, to find to her staring up at me, her expression solemn.

“Are you ready?” I asked quietly.

She nodded and took my arm, though she clung to it a fraction tighter than usual.

But I tucked my elbow against my side, pinning her hand to my ribs and drew her back towards the hedge, and the nobles who would soon begin to wonder about our absence.

We were both quiet for the rest of the evening. But even when we were drawn apart, I felt her eyes on me, or watched until she turned into my heated gaze.

‘You are stunning, Bren.’

Her cheeks flushed and she smiled into her drink, nodding at Faye, who was deep into her cups and babbling.

‘And you’re mine,’ she sent back, glancing at me from the side, and sending an image of me braced over her, naked and thrusting.

Holy shit.

I prayed I didn’t look like the staggering, helpless boy that I felt like in that moment.

‘I have a job to do, and you aren’t helping me focus,’ I muttered in the bond, but I underlined the gruff words with a heated rush of need.

I’d thought we were flirting, but there was a hesitation in her before she responded, and I actually turned my head to check on her.

She didn’t smile, but her eyes found mine and neither of us looked away, despite the audience.

‘Will we make it, Donavyn? Do you think? Will we get to be together and alive and home and… just live? Ever?’

‘Yes,’ I growled and almost walked to her, but she turned her head quickly to Grace at her other shoulder, leaning in to say something. I was drawn aside a moment later—the king’s man calling some of us to gather for His Majesty’s pleasure…

But as we continued on our mission, as we endured the frivolous chatter, and sidelong glances, I just prayed that God would make certain my words came true.

Will we make it, Donavyn?

Yes.

Yes, we would.

25. The Ticking Clock

~ BREN ~

A few days later, I stood at the side of the ballroom for yet another glittering dance—the events of this festival were all beginning to run together in my head—waiting nervously for Donavyn to return and hoping it didn’t show.

I could feel Hanson’s gaze on the back of my neck, so I returned to my chair between Grace and Faye, making certain I wasn’t ever alone, and pretending I was riveted by the latest gossip—which still mostly consisted of conjecture about which Lord had found which Lady in the maze, and who’d been absent from their spouses for a little longer than seemed innocent.

“…not like you, though—you are a lucky woman, Brennan.”

I blinked and had to think back, try to remember what Faye had just said that had Grace’s cheeks blazing red, and other women’s lips pursing either with disapproval, or to stifle outright laughter.

Oh. Right.

I instinctively rubbed the skin where my neck met my shoulder, and rolled my eyes. “It’s hardly scandalous, Lady Faye,” I said as casually as I could, but then buried my face in my goblet, because it was hard not to blush.