CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 53

OSRIK

The army is fucking tired.

I’ve been pushing them hard, trying to get the hell out of Fifth. The goal was to get to Cliffhelm. Since the outpost is right at our border, I was planning on letting the army stock up on supplies, have a few days to rest, and then travel the rest of the way through Fourth Kingdom at a slower pace.

But that all went to shit.

The shipment never showed up to Cliffhelm, so instead of being able to recoup, I was forced to send the soldiers off quicker than I anticipated, because we were seriously lacking in supplies.

Luckily, the terrain changes a lot more as we get further into Fourth. The last bit of snow is on the balding heads of the mining mountains. Dust rises around their bases in a halo, evidence of our own people working the veins and getting up gems and oil.

Before we could get into the better part of Fourth where the landscape finally has trees and wildlife and shit, we had to get past the layer of rot. Doesn’t bother me so much anymore, I’m so damn used to it. There’s rot surrounding the entirety of Fourth’s border, so I’ve walked past decayed plants and sunken right through collapsed, sickly ground many, many times.

This rot isn’t just an eyesore, either. Because we get a lot of rain out here, the cracked, wasted land stinks. With the warmer weather and the perpetual rot feeding on the wet soil, the air is the scent of rancid meat and molded fruit.

Smells like home.

It makes for a shitty day of travel though, and everyone tied a thick piece of cloth around their faces. But this rot is a damn good deterrent for enemies. No one wants to cross this shit, not even our own army.

As soon as we passed the last of the squishy, mildewed ground, I let the army stop to rest. Luckily, the breeze is on our side, keeping the stench downwind. But no one has much of an appetite tonight, much to Keg’s annoyance. Good for our dwindling supplies though.

The camp is quieter than normal. The lieutenants have been trying to keep everyone’s mood up, so the talk about hunting fresh meat tomorrow night is the damned slapped-on bandage on the gaping morale that we need.

We’re done with the snow, done with the rot, and back in our own kingdom. Now we just have to get to the Brack—Brackhill Castle and capital—and they can finally fucking take a break and go home to their families after being gone for these long months. Definitely a morale boost.

I’m sitting around one of the large campfires with a bunch of the soldiers, listening to the right and left flanks talking shit to each other, not even suppressing my smirk.

“Judd and Lu would be proud,” Ryatt says next to me. “Their rivalry is going strong.”

“Good way to pass the time.”

Ryatt nods, head turning to the group playing music just to the left of us, Keg right there in the center of them. Behind us, the horses are grazing, a skimpy clump of trees offering shelter at our backs.

As I take a swig of some shitty wine that Himinn brought me, my mind strays to Rissa.

Been doing that a lot lately.

She fucking kissed me. It was weeks ago now, but ever since, I’ve been feeling like a damned animal in a rut. I’ve caught her scent, tasted her mouth, and every time I’m around her—or even when I’m not—I’m thinking about grabbing her lush ass, pinning her up against the nearest tree, and fucking that temper right out of her.

But her head’s not in it yet, so I’ve been giving her space.

Her body sure as shit is. There’s no denying the way her eyes dilate or the way her cheeks go all fucking cute and pink when she’s around me. But body responses don’t equal consent. I want her fierce temper to unfold into a wanton hellion as she comes around my cock, clawing at my back with demands because she wants it.

The fact that she ran away like her ass was on fire after she kissed me, and the fact that she didn’t leave her tent for the following two days, told me she wasn’t really ready.

I meant what I said—I’d never take advantage of a woman. We’ve got a pull, no doubt about it, but my instincts tell me she’s trying to fight against it. I’m not going to lie, a fancy woman like herself is definitely not used to a gruff soldier like me. I’m way too fucking rough around the edges for someone like her, but I want her anyway.

It’s a huge turn-on when she goes toe-to-toe with me. All of the women I’ve had in the past were submissive, and I liked that. But the fire in Rissa heats my blood like never before, makes me picture all the ways she would take what I gave her and deal it back tenfold. Arguing would be our foreplay.

But when she didn’t come out of her tent, I had my answer, so I’ve been avoiding her ever since. Not letting myself ride next to her carriage during the day, trying not to look for her every time I walk around camp, keeping my distance.

I still make sure the front of her tent is shoveled and her food is delivered, but I’m just not the one to do it, even though it fucking bothers me. How this woman got under my skin so quickly, I’ll never know.

“Alright, I’m turning in,” Ryatt says as he gets to his feet. “Sick of wearing this fucking helmet.”

“I prefer it. Means I don’t have to look at your ugly mug.”

Even though I can’t see it, I can feel him roll his eyes. “Yeah, fuck off.”

“Just admit that you missed me,” I tell him. “I know that’s why you came back. Using Hojat as an excuse.”

I chuckle when Ryatt flips me off and then walks away in the direction of his tent. The soldiers around him nod deferentially and clear out of the way. Him coming back has been a big morale boost too. Definitely helped to have him here while we crossed over the last of the rot.

I know I should turn in soon too, but I take another drink of wine, listening to Keg and the others strum and blow into their instruments. But when I’m wiping the drink off my beard, I suddenly catch the faint scent of flowers.

Think of the vixen, and she will appear.

I look up as a shadowed silhouette blocks the flames in front of me. The little she-demon stands there in borrowed clothes that swim on her, all but hiding her form beneath my oversized shirt and coat. I could’ve given her someone else’s spare set, like Himinn who’s much closer to her size, but the thought of her wearing any other man’s clothes other than my own sets my teeth on edge.

“Evening, Yellow Bell,” I drawl.

She glares at me, hands on her hips, and then glances around at all the soldiers. I shoot them a look, making them instantly scatter. With a small pocket of privacy now, Rissa sits down on the vacated log the others were sitting on, tucking her legs beneath her.

The brazen woman reaches over and plucks the cup right out of my hand and takes a sip of my wine. A grimace pulls at her face that’s Divine-damned adorable, but I’m more focused on the way her pink tongue slips out and drags across her lips. “You’ve been avoiding me,” she says.

My brows lift. “Thought you wanted me to avoid you.”

She opens and closes her mouth like she’s not sure how to answer. It’s only because of how watchful I am of her that I’ve discovered her tiny tells. She’s got a very good poker face usually. Most people probably wouldn’t notice the way she curls her pointer finger, scraping it against her thigh when she’s anxious. But I do.

“You kissed me, then you left. Figured that meant you didn’t want to repeat the mistake after all,” I say with a smirk as I take the cup back from her, making sure to drink from the same exact spot she just did. The way her eyes darken lets me know that she’s fully aware of it, too.

“Well, it was a mistake,” she finally replies.

“Yeah? Well, it all depends on whether or not you want to make those mistakes, Bell.”

She faces me fully, the fire making one side glow a soft orange and her coiled hair look like a sun-ripened peach. “Why would I want to?”

“Didn’t you ever have your rebellious years when you were young?” I ask. “Sneaking out to get drunk when you knew you shouldn’t? Picking fights even though you knew you weren’t going to win four against one, but instigating it anyway because you wanted to punch something? Fucking someone you knew you were gonna regret, but doing it anyhow because you had an itch to scratch? Some mistakes are just too damned gratifying.”

Rissa snorts and shakes her head, but she doesn’t deny it. “Why does it not surprise me that you’d pick a fight with four men?”

“I didn’t become captain because I shied away from fights. Or killing.”

“What did you do before you became a captain?”

“I was a mercenary in First Kingdom.”

Her eyes widen.

“Don’t ask questions unless you’re ready to hear what the answers might be,” I tell her. “I killed for coin, and I was good at it. Liked it, even. Does that bother you?”

I watch as she processes what I’ve said, watch as thoughts practically stream across her blue eyes. “Well, some people claim that saddles fucking is just as big a sin as people killing, so I suppose I have no room to judge.”

“The world can judge us all it wants, doesn’t mean we have to give a shit.”

“Eloquent,” she says dryly, though her lips tilt up into an almost smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut. What would she look like if she really smiled?

I shouldn’t be thinking questions like that. Which is exactly why I need to keep avoiding her.

“Never said I was a poet.”

Getting to my feet, I leave the cup on the log before straightening up. “Enjoy the fire.” I start walking away to head for my tent, but light footsteps rush after me.

“Why are you leaving?” she asks as soon as she reaches my side.

“It’s getting late. Gotta get up before dawn to start breaking all this shit down again, just like I do every morning.”

I can practically feel how loudly she’s thinking, but it’s not until I reach my tent and stop to turn to her that she drudges up the determination to speak. “I’ve been thinking. I know we’re going to reach Fourth’s capital soon, and...well. You know my plans on leaving, but I thought...”

I’ve never seen her so unsure before, stumbling over her words and looking around nervously.

“You thought...” I prompt.

“Maybe you were right. About making good mistakes.”

I arch a brow but say nothing.

Irritation blooms over her face. “Do I have to spell it out? I want to fuck.”

Her blunt words make me rear back in surprise, and I instantly go hard, my dick pressing against my leather pants.

I cross my arms in front of me. “You don’t know what you really want.”

Her irritation morphs into full-blown anger. “Excuse me? Don’t presume to speak as if you know what I’m thinking. I’m here, aren’t I? I approached you.”

“Yeah, but you also kissed me, and that didn’t stop you from regretting it after. I’m all for actively enjoying some fucking great mistakes, but I’m not interested in regret. That’s something else entirely, and we both know that’s exactly what you’d condemn it as.”

She can’t even deny it. I see it right there on her face, and it fucking guts me. Her stunned silence says it all.

“Thought so,” I tell her as I let out a sigh. “Go back to your tent, Yellow Bell.”

Embarrassed hurt flashes across her features, which feels like a knife digging into my stomach, but I hold my ground.

“You think you know what you want, but you don’t. Not yet. So come and find me when you figure that out.”

Red blotches dot her cheeks, and a bitter laugh escapes her. “You know what? Fine. I just thought we could do it to pass the time, get whatever this is between us out of our systems. But you’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever come back to you now. I know my worth.”

I level her with a look. “So do I.”

Her eyes widen fractionally, and her delicate throat bobs. Guilt wracks me because I know I’ve embarrassed her, know I probably just put the last nail in the coffin to this thing before it could even open in the first place, but I also know if I let her instigate this now, it won’t be right. And I need it to be right—for both of us. Because I think there could be something here, and I don’t want it to be ruined by letting her try to get me out of her system. Fuck that.

“You are the worst bad mistake I’m glad I never made,” she hisses.

“And you’re still the best mistake I can’t wait to make,” I retort with a smirk. “When you’re ready to admit it.”

Letting out a growl, she turns and stomps away, and as soon as she disappears from view, the amusement wipes off my face.

Fuck.

I hope I made the right decision. Because if I’m wrong, I just pushed her away for good, and that means I’m going to be the one with regret.