Chapter 31: Cenric

Chapter

Thirty-One

CENRIC

I stare at the map spread before me, tracing the lines of Karra's streets with my finger. The parchment crinkles under my touch as I search for patterns, weaknesses, anything that might give us an edge against the rebels.

Liam's heavy footsteps announce his arrival before he ducks into the command tent and plops down beside me. "Everly's fitting in well, isn't she?"

I grunt, my focus still fixed on the map.

Liam falls silent for a long moment. Then, his voice cuts through the quiet, low and knowing. "You like her, don't you?"

Do I?

For summers, she's been a friend, someone I've tried to help and protect. But lately...I can't stop thinking about kissing her.

"Cenric…" Liam's voice softens as he continues, "…you forg et I know you. And as long as I've known you, you've been damn picky with women. But this one? She's different."

"It doesn't matter," I snap, my tone sharper than intended.

"Because she's an outsider?"

The honesty in his words rattles me, shakes my foundation more than anything has in a long time.

I've always known there's a line between me and Everly. Maybe that's why I've never tried to approach it. Never dared to breach it.

Until last night.

Last night, I forgot everything as I pulled her into my arms. She was just a woman. I was just a man. There was no status, no red circles.

Damn that red circle. Damn, whoever thought it was right to mark an entire bloodline.

Still, Liam's question hangs over me, taunting me.

I don't give a damn that she's an outsider, but I know what that status means for her.

"Cenric," Liam says slowly, "If you like her, don't let anything stand in your way."

"It's not that simple." My fingers twitch with the need to hit something, to feel the satisfying impact of flesh against leather.

"Isn't it?" Liam challenges.

"No, it's not. I'm here to quell a rebellion, not pursue a woman." Even as the words leave my mouth, I know they're hollow.

Everly's face flashes in my mind—her bright eyes, the way she looked at me last night .

It takes every ounce of willpower not to storm out of this tent and find her right now.

Why her? Why now? I've never been this distracted before.

I'm a warrior, a leader. I can't afford to be compromised by feelings. The rebellion, my tribe—they come first.

They have to.

But as I try to convince myself, Everly's smile haunts me, reminding me of what I'm denying myself. And for what? Tradition? Rules set by men long dead?

I have two choices: her or my people.

They're like a branch splitting in a winter storm—one side tugging me toward her, the other toward my tribe.

I've never been more torn, more conflicted. And I hate it.