Page 62 of A Cruel Kindness

“Yeah, and what’s that?” Bellamy shot back her eyes lighting with fire, just the way I liked them.

I leaned close, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Paranima. No higher honor.”

A blush teased her cheeks, and I almost lost it again.

When she realized that was what I wanted, Bellamy frowned, which made her look rather cute.

I ushered her outside, intentionally walking a few steps behind her so that I could check her holsters and equipment without having to put my hands on her. The last time I did that, I debated delaying the Cross for several hours for over a hundred people just so I could carry her back to our room.

Esme caught up to her as we walked toward the stables and quickly resumed their conversation. Watching Bellamy react to her story, continuing to build their friendship, made warmth spill through my chest.

Ford fell into silent steps next to me. It was a comfortable silence, one that I always appreciated from him.

When we made it to the stables, I didn’t miss how Bellamy picked up her pace to get to Clover faster.

“Hi, sweet girl!” she said, a massive smile on her face when she saw Clover’s head peek around the corner. I stopped dead in my tracks at that smile.

Ford laughed as he passed me, patting me on the back twice in sympathy.

Bellamy was speaking quietly to Clover, running her hand down her mane in soft strokes. Lucky peered over her neck from the back of their shared stable, huffing contentedly.

Yeah, you and me both, pal.

I was clearly chopped liver to Bellamy now that she was with Clover, because she didn’t even spare me a glance as she led her out of the stables and into the loading area. I’d taken the liberty of loading her saddle bag with everything we’d need last night when we got back from Pax.

When I hopped on Lucky’s back and led him outside, Ford, Esme, and Bellamy were ready. Peter was approaching with Ella in tow.

Bellamy spied him, turning to me asking, “Is that everyone?”

I shook my head, waiting for what we knew was coming next.

“Sorry!” Freya yelled from across the field, running towards us in a full gallop astride Starlight.

Arthur, her Match, was leaning against the barn with his arms crossed and eyes downcast. Pain pinched my chest at the sight of him, reminded of the lot he’d drawn.

Bellamy watched as Freya stopped Starlight in a cloud of dust, breathing heavily from her morning ride. Her gaze slid over to Arthur, then back to Freya.

“We ready?” Freya asked me as she reached up to redo her braid.

I nodded right as Peter and Ella arrived. Though this was my unit officially, there wasn’t any formal hierarchy. Esme and Ford often went off by themselves, and only God knew where Freya went half the time.

Bellamy was studying Freya closely, and I just knew that she was seconds away from figuring it out. Ever since the Cross, I felt like my intuition when it came to her was getting sharper and sharper.

Honing our Bond, making us better in tense situations, was the goal really. The problem was, the thought of those very situations, of putting Bellamy in them, made me sick to my stomach.

I rolled my shoulders back, forcefully pushing the Bond’s shaking fear to the back of my mind. Lucky stomped his foot on the ground, sensing my discomfort.

Even Bellamy seemed to notice, her eyebrows pinching together in concern.

“The camp is about an hour’s ride away, due west of Pax. Muli soliders up and left with no explanation about a week ago. Assignment is intelligence gathering and weapons seizing,” I said, my voice dropping into an authoritative tone.

Bellamy’s shoulders pulled back, sitting up straighter on Clover. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she liked that tone on me.

Find out, the Bond commanded.

I can’t, I snapped back.

“That camp was in a strategic position. There must have been some reason they pulled back,” Ford said, sitting comfortably on Shadow’s back. Shadow, meanwhile, was trying to avoid Sky’s loving nips.