Chapter 25: Cenric

Chapter

Twenty-Five

CENRIC

Hades!

What is wrong with me?

Was I really thinking about kissing Everly?

I walk away from her tent, needing to clear my head, to focus on something—anything—other than her.

My feet carry me toward the sparring grounds, where I spot Luc among the warriors, demonstrating a parry.

"Luc," I call out. "Spar with me."

He nods, then makes his way over. As he approaches, I draw my sword, the weight of it a comfort I desperately need right now.

"Are you ready to lose?" Luc grins and settles into a fighting stance.

I don't respond. Instead, I lunge forward, and Luc deflects easily.

It's not enough.

With each strike, each dodge, each breath, Everly's face dances before my vision. The way she looked at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. The curve of her neck as she bent over the pots by the lake. The sound of her laughter as she talked with Finn.

The thought of him speaking with her, making her smile, sends a surge of something hot and dark through me.

My next blow comes faster, harder. Luc grunts with the effort of blocking it.

"By the gods, Cenric," he says between quick breaths. "What's gotten into you?"

I shake my head, trying to clear it. "Nothing."

No matter how hard I push myself, I can't shake the image of Everly from my mind. Her smile, her scent—that mixture of lavender and lemon balm.

Sweat drips down my face, stinging my eyes, but I blink it away, refusing to let up. Luc's breathing grows ragged, his movements slower, but I press on.

"Cenric," Luc gasps, barely deflecting a vicious overhead strike. "We should—"

I cut him off with another assault, driving him back step by step. My muscles burn, screaming for rest, but I ignore the pain.

With a final, brutal swing, I knock Luc's sword from his grasp, and it clatters to the ground.

"Are you happy now?" he asks as he retrieves his weapon. "You nearly beheaded me."

I turn and walk away, leaving Luc staring after me .

My feet carry me to the edge of camp, then up the steep hill that borders our eastern flank. I push myself, scrambling over jagged rocks and gnarled tree roots.

The terrain grows more treacherous as I climb. I welcome the challenge, focusing on each step, each handhold—anything to keep my mind from wandering back to her.

My legs tremble with exertion as I force myself onward, higher and higher. The camp grows small below me, the figures of my men little more than specks.

Still, I push on. The muscles in my thighs burn, but I welcome the pain. It's something tangible to focus on.

The wind picks up, carrying with it the scent of wild herbs. For a moment, it reminds me of her, and I grit my teeth, forcing the thought away.

I pause, chest heaving, and look out over the camp below. From up here, it looks so insignificant. But I know it's much more than that. Those warriors represent keeping a city from teetering on the edge of destruction.

Those men, my people—they are the reason I'm here. I don't have time for a distraction.

And yet...

The desire to kiss Everly lingers.

I push on, climbing higher and higher. The slope grows steeper, more treacherous. One misstep could send me tumbling down the hillside.

Maybe that's what I need. A real threat, a true challenge to focus my mind.

But even as I think it, I know it's not true. Because no matter how high I climb, no matter how much I exhaust myself, I can't escape the truth.

I want to kiss her.