Chapter Thirty-three

Astrangled sob escaped Thea as she fell to her knees in the snow beside her friend. Kipp wheezed through the pain, blood pulsing from the wound.

‘What the fuck were you doing?' she muttered, noting the film of venom on the fang, the pallor of Kipp's face.

‘Dancing the fucking foxtrot with a bunch of spiders —' He coughed, blood lining his teeth and spilling down his chin.'What'd you think I was doing?'

The rise and fall of his chest was shallow and uneven, his breaths rattling as he struggled to draw air through the congealing blood.

‘What's a dying man need to do to get a drink around here?' he rasped.

‘You're not dying,' Cal said, kneeling on Kipp's other side, gripping his shoulder.

Kipp made a garbled sound that might have been a laugh. ‘And they called me useless…' He choked this time, more blood spewing from his lips, his body contracting around the wound in his chest, the agony bright in his eyes. ‘What I'd do for some sour mead right about now…' Tears streamed down his face, his expression contorted with pain as another wave of it seized him.

Thea's heart was pounding, harder than it had throughout the battle itself, as a realisation hit her like a blow.

She reached for the vial resting against her sternum and pulled it from the chain around her neck.

‘It's not sour mead,' she said, removing the cork with her teeth. ‘But it's a damn sight more useful.'

Seeing what she was about to do, Torj gave the fang a sharp pull from Kipp's chest and Kipp screamed, the wound gushing crimson, his body thrashing beneath their hold. Thea grabbed his chin and poured her Aveum springwater into his mouth.

‘Don't you dare fucking die, Kristopher,' she muttered, making sure every last drop passed through his lips. ‘Don't you dare fucking die.'

Silence fell as Kipp stopped writhing, and his eyes stopped blinking.

Thea sucked in the icy air, her heart sinking as she dropped the empty vial in the snow. Her trembling hands went numb at her sides. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't – wouldn't believe it. Kipp wasn't even supposed to be on the field. He was a strategist – he was supposed to send his and Esyllt's orders up through the lines.

The lifeless body before her couldn't be Kipp, because —

A gentle hand closed over her shoulder.

Somewhere close by, someone was crying.

Thea looked around to see who it was. She wanted to shake them. No one should be crying, because the body in front of them wasn't Kipp —

She struggled to swallow the thick ache that pulsed in her throat as she was pulled up from the frozen ground into a strong pair of arms.

‘Thea,' Wilder murmured into her hair. ‘I'm so sorry.'

‘It's not real,' she whispered against his breastplate. ‘It can't be…'

‘I know,' Wilder said, voice hoarse.

She blinked at her friend's body, his blood staining the pristine snow.

‘You're with Kipp,'Esyllt had barked when she'd first joined the shieldbearers' ranks. Young and fresh-faced, Kipp had been holding his sword incorrectly, his stance all over the place, his auburn hair flopping into his eyes… But he'd offered her a sheepish grin.

‘I'm Kipp. Kipp Snowden.'

Thea's shoulders slumped, shaking with silent sobs, even as she fought to stifle them. Her chest ached, each inhale dragging in the weight of loss, each exhale layered with guilt.

Another image of her friend flashed before her: Kipp swaying as he took up a tankard with both hands and bumped it against hers and Cal's. ‘May you walk amid the gardens of the afterlife a whole half hour, before Enovius reads your ledger of deeds.'

He had said that stupid toast so many times, and he always downed his entire drink, sloshing mead all down his front.

The tension in Thea's limbs yielded to a bone-deep weariness, and she let Wilder's arms envelop her as her frozen fingers rose to her cheeks. Tears had tracked down her face, carving rivulets in the grime there. She stared at the moisture on her fingertips as more of Kipp's words came back to her.

‘It doesn't matter who stands against you… What matters most is who stands with you.'

No one spoke, and the silence was louder than death itself. It sank its claws into Thea, along with the horrifying truth.

She'd been too late.

‘I thought… I thought it was most powerful when it was used on someone you love,' she said.

Wilder only held her more firmly in his arms.

Thea's body shuddered against him, wracked with silent sobs, her chest aching as she tried to hold them in —

A violent gasp made her jump.

She whirled around to see Kipp's eyes flutter, the wound in his chest knitting closed.

‘Furies save me,' he rasped. ‘Are you trying to get me killed again, Thea? Don't tell the Warsword you love me.'

Thea fell back down to her knees. With tears of relief and almost manic laughter, she smacked Kipp's arm. Gods, she almost wanted to kill the strategist herself. A tidal wave of feeling threatened to crash over her, leaving her in a trembling state of shock.

That trance-like state was broken by Cal, who knelt in the snow beside Kipp as well, shaking his head.

‘You…' His voice was hoarse.

Kipp's gaze flitted to his friend as he sat up with a wince —

Only for Cal to grab him in a crushing bear hug. ‘I thought you were dead, you fucking prat.'

‘Technically, I was,' Kipp wheezed, rubbing his chest beneath Cal's grip. ‘And do you mind? I'd prefer to stay in the land of the living for now…'

Cal eased off him, only slightly.

With a strangled cry, Thea wrapped her arms around them both, burying her face in Kipp's shoulder.

‘Not you, too,' Kipp muttered, though there was a distinct note of delight in his tone. After a beat, his long arms came around both Thea and Cal, and together, they cried and laughed in the snow.

Cal took their friend to see one of the healers, just in case, but judging by Kipp's usual dramatics, he was very much himself.

The springwater had brought Kipp back almost instantly, just as Wilder's had done to her all that time ago. Thea felt raw, as though the battle and Kipp's near-death experience had gutted her roughly and scooped out her insides. From the weary expressions around her, everyone felt much the same. But the battle was not over even when it was won, however narrowly.

Thea was glad for Anya and Talemir's orders. She set about her tasks without having to think too deeply about all that had unfolded on the blood-drenched plains. They tended to their wounded and counted their dead, the reports of casualties coming in hard and fast from the outer units.

Hours later, they found themselves in the relative warmth of the command tent, passing around a nearly empty flask of fire extract, trying to process the unimaginable loss on both sides. Artos had hurled everything he had at their forces, with no regard for the lives of his own legions, but he had eviscerated them in the process. The death toll was staggering, and rising by the hour.

Thea sat on a chest in the corner of the tent, Dax by her feet, her fingers mindlessly stroking the soft fur of his ears. His presence was a comfort to her, and a warmth over her frozen feet.

‘Has anyone seen Audra?' she asked, scanning the room, trying to recall the last time she'd clapped eyes on her former warden.

‘She was talking to Farissa, before the battle,' Wren offered. ‘But I haven't seen her since.'

‘She'll be around here somewhere,' Cal added.

Thea frowned. It was unlike Audra to miss the crucial post-battle debrief, but she shrugged it off. ‘What about Anya and Talemir?' she said, finding the two leaders missing.

‘Guarding Artos with Adrienne and the Bloodletter,' Drue replied from where she was draped over a chair, as though she'd melted there. ‘They're not taking any chances, particularly with no wraiths or reapers taking part in this battle.'

Thea nodded. ‘Good. What happens to him now?'

‘We'll move him to a more secure location, then interrogate him for the whereabouts of the reapers' lairs. And anything else that might help us stop the midrealms falling to the darkness —'

Dax gave a soft bark, just as a shieldbearer made himself known in the doorway.

‘What is it?' Wilder sighed from where he was seated in a wooden chair, his elbows braced on his knees.

The young man fidgeted. ‘We found another body in the woods, Warsword Hawthorne.'

‘Then add it to the tally.'

‘We thought you should know the details about this one… It's Sebastos Barlowe, sir. He was found dead not far from the latrines. It looks like he was mauled to death by monsters.'

Thea's fingers froze in Dax's coat.

‘Seb Barlowe?' Wilder asked. ‘You're sure?'

‘Yes, sir. He was wearing his uncle's crest.'

‘And he was found by the latrines?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Very well,' Wilder told the shieldbearer, his brow furrowed. ‘Add his name to the list of the dead, and Torj Elderbrock will see to it that his uncle is informed.'

‘Yes, sir.' The young man sighed with relief, closing the tent flap behind him as he left.

‘What a tragedy,' Thea said blandly. Wilder's gaze flicked to hers and then to the dog at her feet.

‘Devastating,' he agreed.

The battle had raged from dawn until after dusk, and the post-conflict efforts had them on their feet well into the early hours of the next day. Thea had barely had a moment to process it, and truth be told, she was still reeling from nearly losing Kipp. The sight of her friend lying lifeless and unblinking in the snow would haunt her forever.

Hours later, after checking on him in the infirmary, Thea and Wilder stumbled back to their tent, exhaustion settling deep in their bones. But when they reached it, finding that someone had generously lit a torch and a small fire within, with a cauldron of water warming over the coals, Thea knew she wouldn't be able to sleep straight away.

Her fingers shook as she made to unlace her armour.

‘Let me,' Wilder said, replacing her hands with his. Ever so gently, he started the task of undoing the straps and buckles, removing one piece at a time. ‘Do you want to tell me what happened with Seb?' he asked quietly.

‘Not really.' She released a shuddering breath, the grime coating her skin feeling even thicker, dirtier. ‘He threatened to rape me.'

Wilder's hands stilled on one of her greaves.

Thea kept talking. ‘He hated me so much. It blinded him so completely that he truly couldn't fathom that I'd become a Warsword, that I was better than him, that I – a woman – could kill him within seconds…'

‘And did you?' His hands weren't as steady as he removed the second greave.

‘Yes,' she admitted, recalling how his windpipe had crushed so easily. ‘I snapped his neck. And then Dax was there. He came out of nowhere, tore Seb's throat right out of his lifeless body.'

A moment passed and Wilder stood, gathering her in his arms. ‘I didn't think the howlers and arachnes had doubled back around our camp.'

Thea sagged against him, ignoring the cold press of his armour and the blood that still covered them both. ‘They didn't. It was me. And Dax.'

‘That piece of shit deserved to die a long time ago, Thea.' He took a deep breath. ‘I only wish he was alive so I could kill him all over again with my bare hands.'

‘We made it count,' Thea said hoarsely. ‘But I don't want to tell anyone else – no one official, at least. If word got back to Seb's uncle, whoever he is, I have no doubt he'd want mine and Dax's heads on spikes.'

Wilder tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and then traced the line of her jaw, drawing her gaze up to his. ‘I wouldn't let that happen, but if you want it to remain between us, it will.'

Thea covered his hand with hers. ‘Thank you.'

‘Are you alright?'

She hesitated. ‘I will be, once I get this filth off me.'

‘If you need privacy, if you need to be alone, I can leave.' Wilder spoke the words tenderly, but Thea shook her head.

‘Just…' But she didn't know what she meant to say, or what she needed, only that she didn't want him to go.

Wilder seemed to understand. He nodded, and slowly, his hands went to the hem of her shirt. ‘May I?'

Thea dipped her head wordlessly, lifting her arms for him.

In the soft glow of the torchlight, Wilder undressed her, peeling the battle-worn, blood-soaked fabric from her skin and gently tugging her towards the warm water on the coals. Still clad in his own filthy armour, he tore strips from the linen on their cot and dipped them into the water, foaming a bar of soap as she stood naked before him.

Pressing a soft kiss to her lips, he washed the grime from her face first, his touch so careful, so reverent, rinsing the cloth each time. The soap smelt of him, of rosewood and leather, of home.

Thea reached for him, but her Warsword clasped her hands in his.

‘I should have done this after our first battle together,' he told her. ‘Allow me the honour now. Please.'

Emotion caught in Thea's throat. She didn't trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded, her tears nearly falling at the sight of Wilder's gratitude.

He washed her by the fire, gently scrubbing the dirt from her arms and legs, from her hands and fingernails. He dragged the warm cloth down her neck, where filth had gathered at the base of her throat where her armour stopped. As he worked, water trickled down her body, between her breasts, between her legs, stirring a pulse of conflicted desire within.

Her nipples hardened as he followed the curve of her breasts with a fresh cloth of soap, the suds sliding down her curves. His touch lit a fire across her skin, her body responding in kind.

Looking up, she noted how his gaze darkened as his ministrations dipped lower and her arousal became obvious. She didn't hide the change in her breathing, nor the parting of her legs beneath her.

A smile tugged at Wilder's lips. ‘I meant to take care of you.'

‘There are many ways you can do that,' Thea replied, her voice already sultry with need.

A rough laugh escaped Wilder. ‘That's true enough, Princess. Then, by all means, you can help me with this.'

He gestured to his own armour, and this time he let Thea help unbuckle it and remove the pieces from his body. They fell away one by one, revealing the battle-made body beneath, desire pooling between Thea's legs at the sight. He looked like a god of war, a masterpiece of violence and power. The blood and dirt only heightened his fierceness, only accentuated the rippling muscles and unforgiving lines of his impressive frame.

His cock jutted out from between his muscular thighs, hard and ready for her. Thea's body went molten as she imagined it sheathed inside her, filling her inch by inch.

Exhaling shakily, she reached for a clean piece of cloth and tended to Wilder as he had her. They washed one another, albeit with less patience than Wilder had started with, and when they were as clean as they could be without submerging themselves in a tub, Thea dragged Wilder to the cot in the corner.

There, they lay facing one another, almost nose to nose, Thea draping her leg over Wilder and pulling him close. A quiet gasp escaped her as she felt the silken heat of his hard cock press against her core. The pressure alone set her on fire, and she shifted her hips so that the length of him slid over her clit, her arousal slick between her legs.

‘Is this bad?' she asked, bringing his hand to her breast and squeezing hard, her clit pulsing with desire as he rolled her nipple beneath his thumb. ‘Are we bad people for wanting this when there are so many who didn't make it? So many in pain —'

‘We've had a version of this conversation once before, Thea,' he said, pinching her nipple until she bucked beneath him. ‘We can't do anything for anyone else right now. It's part of war – the waiting, the searching for something good in the in-between. It's why fighting and fucking go hand in hand.'

With a cant of his hips, his cock nudged her entrance, teasing her, and she bit back a moan of anticipation.

‘So if you want this,' he said, sliding in an inch, ‘then take it. It's yours.'

Thea grabbed his backside and wrenched him closer, his cock filling her to the hilt in a single slide that had her opening herself to him with complete abandon. She cried out loudly, forgetting that there was nothing soundproof about the canvas around them.

Wilder rocked against her, thrusting deep inside her and holding her close. She closed her eyes, head tipping back as the intoxicating feel of him took over her senses.

‘Eyes on me, Thea,' he commanded. ‘I need to watch you come apart. I need to see it.'

Her eyes flew open, and she didn't close them again. Instead, she stared into the liquid-silver depths of his gaze, watching it darken as his own desire took hold.

‘Don't let go,' she whimpered as his thrusts became more vigorous, as he hit that spot inside that made her see stars.

‘Never.'

He fucked her hard and slow, holding her so close that she didn't know where she ended and Wilder began. She moved with him, swallowing his carnal noises with her kisses, sinking her teeth into his lower lip before starting the kiss anew.

His hand slid between them and he pinched her clit, the sensation setting off a series of blinding ripples within.

‘Fuck,' she whispered against his lips. ‘Do that again.'

He did, and she half sobbed with the sensitive pleasure of it.

‘Are you going to come, Thea?' he murmured, circling the spot with his thumb, knowing exactly what he was doing to her.

‘Yes,' she whimpered. ‘I'm going to —'

The force of it stole the rest of her words and she careened towards the edge of her climax, an unstoppable tempest hurtling over the precipice.

She didn't take her eyes off Wilder, who, with her body clenching and shuddering around him, climbed to the point of no return with her. The cadence of his hips slowed, dragging out the last of their orgasms, one deliberate stroke after the next, his moan vibrating through her whole being.

Thea clung to him, her anchor through every storm.

‘Fuck, I love you,' she told him, pressing his palm to her pounding heart.

Still inside her, he kissed her deeply. ‘I love you, too.'