17. SEVENTEEN

seventeen

WE. TOGETHER.

Marge doesn’t take long to greet me the next morning. In fact, as soon as I walk into the healer’s quadrant, she shoves a glass vial into my hand and barks at me to deliver it to Darian. Apparently, his quarters are near mine. Our rooms are separated by one building, the second and now only, storage tent. My skin crawls at the realization of our proximity.

I bite down on my tongue to keep myself from refusing Marge’s order.

When I hesitate, Marge’s expression darkens “Today, Katerina. Now .”

Clearing my throat, I dip my head and leave the healer’s quadrant. My heartbeat thunders in my ears as I pass my quarters and slow at the stone structure two buildings down from mine. Staring at the thick wooden door, I contemplate leaving the vial at the doorstep.

“Pfft, he doesn’t scare me.” I try to convince myself.

“Who?” Daeja’s voice ghosts over me.

“Nobody. A wannabe dangerous two legger.” I narrow my eyes and pound on the door.

The door creaks open, revealing a disheveled Darian. His green eyes narrow, and he slowly closes the door in my face.

I blink. Completely caught off guard by the response. But the risk of Marge’s discontent if I don’t do as she’s asked pushes me forward. I beat on the door again.

Darian opens the door a few inches to confirm it’s still me, but as he shuts it again, I slam a hand out against the door, propping it open.

His eyes flare, a crooked grin splitting his lips.

Holding down an efforted grunt, I shove my weight into the wood. But as I push into the door, he backs off it, and it swings wide open. I stumble forward, nearly falling to my face before he catches me by my elbow.

As he steadies me back up to my feet, I turn toward him, glaring. He closes the door, shutting out the daylight. The thick stone walls seclude us from the camp chatter outside.

His eyes travel from my face down the length of my body. “What are you doing here?”

I flinch, shifting uncomfortably under his unbearably heavy stare. “Marge sent me.”

“Hmmm…” He leans against his door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. A black sleeveless tunic exposes his tanned, muscular arms. His stupidly tousled brown hair falls into his brow, obscuring his eyes. “And what does Marge want?”

Gods, he looks like an absolute mess.

I freeze. Forgetting what exactly I came for. I fumble for the vial I tucked earlier into my waistband. “Marge wanted me to—”

I catch him eyeing me. The intensity of his stare enough to light fire. A terror lurks beneath my skin of what he might do to me after I twisted that dagger in his thigh. Especially now that we are alone. Away from any witnesses. Away from anyone who could possibly save me from him.

Damnit.

So much for convincing myself he didn’t scare me.

I scan every inch of his body, searching for a hint of a sword, dagger, or—

“If you’re going to undress me with your eyes, please also use your hands,” he rumbles.

I sneer. “I’m assessing your injuries, it’s part of my job.”

“Ahh, is that what we are calling it nowadays? Might I assess your injuries next? Preferably, without clothes.” He pushes off the wall, his gaze floating down toward my lower half. “I find it more... accurate .”

Clenching my hand around the vial, I narrow my eyes. “Is that all you think about?”

“Oh, no.” He snorts as he stalks across the room. No limp stalls his gait from the dagger lodged into his leg just days before. He stops at his bed, sheets rumpled in a tangled mess. He turns his back to me as he adjusts his belt. “I’m being courteous in refraining from telling you what I’m really thinking.”

I don’t doubt it. And the fact that he thinks he can talk to me as such is infuriating. The sheer boldness of his comments drive me into a frenzied irritation.

The words slip off my tongue before I can stop them. “You’re an ass.”

He lifts his head, glancing over his shoulder at me with a glimmer of amusement sparking his eyes. “I know.”

Glaring hard enough it might sear his skin, I hold out the vial in his direction. “Are you going to take this or not?”

His laugh shakes his shoulders. But the humor doesn’t soften his features.

“What’s so funny?” I hiss.

“It’s just that...” He turns to face me, tying the closure of his tunic.

I’d guess he might have just woken up.

His voice dips to a menacingly slick whisper, “I can’t tell if you want to fight me or fuck me.”

Pompous fucking asshole. I can’t contain myself. I fling the fucking vial straight at him. Adamant it’ll clear whatever delusion he has on what my intentions and fantasies are.

He catches the vial before it can smash into his nose. Those forest green eyes darken as he lowers his head, clenching his fist closed. A sickening crunch splits the silence between us, and he opens his hand, releasing splinters of glass and drops of liquid to the floor.

“Tell Marge I said thank you,” he growls.

Backpedaling, I immediately regret my rash decision to throw the vial at him. My back bumps up against the wall, my eyes trained on him as he sweeps toward me. I pat my hand behind me for the door handle, finding it quickly and unlatching the door.

“What’s wrong?” His head tilts to the side. Regarding me like a predator might its prey before it makes the killing blow. “Do I scare you?”

“No,” I lie.

Another laugh rumbles in his chest. He closes the distance between us and pounds his fist above my head against the door, shutting it. A muscle in his jaw twinges as his green eyes lazily trace circles around my face. His calm violence instills a cold terror inside of me. It scares me more than it would have if he exploded. His body inches closer to mine, his breath stirring the hair near my forehead.

“Gods, I love to watch you squirm,” he admits on a breath. His eyes are a combination of fathomless green and a soulful blue. Stubble shadows his sharp jawline.

My skin breaks out in tingles. “You don’t scare me,” I say again, hoping my voice doesn’t tremble.

His gaze skims down my neck and arms, his lips perking up in a half-sided smile.

He sees my goosebumps .

“Are you sure you aren’t scared of me?” he whispers, his hand lifting to nearly brush my cheek.

I slap his hand down.

A smug grin pulls at his lips. He snickers as he turns away. “You will be, when I’m done with you.”

I slip back out of his room, slamming the door closed between us. My heart drums in my chest until I return to the healer’s quadrant.

Earlier at the dinner table, I stared at Archie as he rambled on, but my thoughts were entirely focused on Cole. Cole sat next to me, his body turned toward mine, and his lingering gaze challenged every sense of my self-composure. Before I blushed, I nudged Cole’s boot with mine in warning. Finally, he shook himself out of his daze.

Maybe I wasn’t going to be the one to give us away.

Carlisle swept Cole off shortly after. Archie and I bonded over discussions of food and our upbringing in poor towns. Water dragons destroyed his family’s ships out in Helmbrook. When his brothers came of age, they were all sent off to the military. Yet, the way he spoke about the military, his eyes sparkling in wonder…

In that moment, my face fell. His sheer enthusiasm and confidence closely resembled that of my brother, hitting me with a bittersweet pang.

We both agreed we didn’t like fish and were relieved tonight’s dinner was chicken. If it were true that you are what you eat, I surely would have sprouted fins ten years ago.

When Archie was distracted, I slipped a piece of chicken into my pocket. Another piece moments later.

After dinner, I make a pitstop at Cole’s room before meeting with Daeja. I rap my knuckles against his door, remembering how his eyes grazed my skin at dinner.

I knock a second time, and the door opens. Cole’s buttery smile lifts his face, and he opens the door wider for me to enter. When he shuts it and turns to me, I edge closer.

Cole holds out a hand to stop me.

“What?” I glance at his hand, as if he’s trying to show me something.

“Don’t…come any closer,” he whispers.

When my mouth falls open he continues.

“Listen…it’s so hard for me to be around you. I can’t get you out of my head.”

I smile at the confession and close the gap between us, lacing my fingers into his. “Then don’t. But we should probably work on your stare outside of these four walls. You know, trying to keep a low profile and all.”

His body tenses as our skin touches.

My head falls back to gaze up at him, my gaze settling on the soft curve of his mouth. I reminisce about all the beautiful things he can do with those lips. Years of declarations, soft kisses, and fiery moments when we’re alone.

His breath stirs a heat in my skin, his voice sultry and soft. “Do you know how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?”

“Perhaps it’s better if you stop trying,” I murmur, skimming my fingertips up his muscled chest and to the nape of his neck.

“Katerina…” he growls in warning.

The lethal sound—and use of my full name—sends a shiver down my spine. A warning, and yet a dare.

Fuck it.

I close the gap between our bodies and press my lips to his. He groans into my mouth and hesitantly melts into me. Flicking my tongue across his lip, I push harder into him. His body stiffens, and he pulls away from me. I bite down a whimper of disappointment, my lips growing cold from his absence.

“I can’t.” He breathes heavily.

“Why not?”

“I’m…I’m trying to do the right thing. We’re supposed to keep a low profile—” His voice breaks into a rasp. “Gods…because if I kiss you, I can’t stop. And I won’t…stop.” His hand slides from my face, down my side, and over my hip.

He flinches. “What do you have?”

I blush, opening my pocket for him to see for himself. “For Daeja…”

“A chicken wing?”

I snort. “It’s all I could take without drawing suspicion.”

A grin cracks his tense features, his head falling into his hand as he rubs his eyes. When he looks back up at me, he’s smiling. “You always find ways to amuse me, woman.”

“How else do you propose I get her food? I worry if she hunts, she may catch someone’s attention.”

He sighs and trains his eyes on my pocket. “I’ve been trying to come up with a plan. I’ve been able to reassign the patrols away from the southern part of the lake. But I haven’t gotten far in terms of next steps.”

I blow out a disappointed breath.

“But...” He motions toward the desk and pulls the chair out for me.

I sit as he shuffles through stacks of papers fluttered across the desk. His gaze jumps, looking and searching. He finally snatches a letter and sets it in front of me, resting his finger on the page.

“There has been an uptick in rebel attacks, and they’ve changed their strategy.” He grabs another letter from the other side of the desk, the broken wax seal stamped with an ‘A’ and points at a new sentence. “They’re burning civilians alive. Trapping them in their homes in the late hours of the night and slaughtering entire villages. In the past, we’ve had dragon attacks to contend with. These rebel attacks…they’re precise and planned. But we have no motive, no estimated time of the next attack, no intended targets...nothing.”

“Like Hornwood...” I mutter blankly.

He drops to crouch beside me, tilting his head to make eye contact. “How do you know about Hornwood?”

“I was there…” I recount the events. My lips tremble when I speak of the little girl and her family. How I failed. Yet again.

He shakes his head furiously and swipes a tear off my cheek with a thumb. “You can’t beat yourself up about that. I know you. And I know you did everything you could to save them.”

“But even my mother—” My voice cracks, and I try again. “Even with my mother I couldn’t—”

But I can’t. I can’t get the words out.

He pulls me off the chair into an embrace, rubbing gentle strokes down my hair. “Shhh. I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Kat.”

I pull a strained breath into my lungs, trying to shove all my heavy emotions back into a box to process at a later, more convenient, time.

Cole’s raspy whisper brushes against my ear, “When I was told your house burned down with you in it, you died once. But in my mind, I experienced your death every day. I suffered every waking breath, knowing I lived in a world without you...”

I pull away to look at him, and his eyes glisten in torment. He understood me.

He bites his lip, shaking his head to keep tears at bay. “I...I couldn’t even escape my longing for you in my dreams.”

I lean my forehead to his, cradling his cheek with my palm. His sadness cracks into a shaky grin.

Perhaps death was crueler to those it left behind. To miss, and wonder, and long for. To hold all of those memories in the palm of your hand, desperate to not let them go, but painful to keep them all the same.

He grabs my hands, raining soft kisses onto them. “I wish I could take your pain away. If it were possible, it would be done. It kills me to see you hurting. But know that I’m here for you. Always. And I’m never leaving.”

The pain in my heart dulls ever so slightly with the way he gazes at me and the delicacy of his lips pressing a tender kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

His hand brushes the chicken in my pocket, his gaze diverted down. “We will find a way to get her to the Dragon Lands. I will help you, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

We. Together.

I smile, hope flickering in my heart. “Then what are we going to—”

“Captain!” a shout comes from outside the room, followed by a pounding on the door.

We both freeze.

Cole scrambles up to his feet, and I follow. He opens the door, and outside, Carlisle’s narrowed eyes dig into us.

Blood drains from my face from the one word Carlisle hisses.

“Traitors.”