Chapter Eight

Wilder kissed her like a man possessed, and Thea whimpered, giving everything she had right back and refusing to let go as he laid her down on the table, covering her body with his powerful frame. They were a clash of tongues and teeth and pawing hands; that familiar dark frenzy that had always been between them threatened to take hold. He gripped her hard enough to bruise and she bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. A low rumble of desire escaped him, the sound sending a bolt of longing straight to her core.

Thea hadn't let herself feel it at the tower, but now, the terror she'd held at bay came bubbling over. They had hurt him. One ruined building was not nearly payment enough for that crime.

She traced the rippling planes of his abdomen, his sculpted chest and his broad, round shoulders, wanting to memorise every inch of him, careful of any wounds he might have suffered. But Wilder leant into her caress with a ferocity that told her he wanted to feel every inch of contact between them, no matter the pain. His fingers mapped her in the same way. As she writhed beneath him, her blood coursed with lightning and longing entwined, and the urgency to feel him inside her amplified almost unbearably.

‘I love you,' she whispered against his lips. ‘Gods, I love you.' Her hands moved to his hair, grabbing it by the roots, holding him in place against her, where he belonged. And then Wilder's mouth was on hers again, heated and desperate, as though he meant to devour her over and over, a man starved. He squeezed her breasts roughly, her nipples hardening, and she arched into his touch, demanding more.

Even with leather and fabric between them, when he ground his cock against her, she felt how hard he was. He angled himself right where she wanted him and she cried out, drawing him close. She needed him, needed to feel him inside her. Together, they could overcome anything. Together, they were strongest —

But when she reached for his buttons, she saw his expression turn distant.

‘Wilder?' she said, sitting up. ‘What is it?'

He broke away, panting. His silver eyes were molten with lust, his need just as potent as hers, evident in the massive bulge in his pants. But there was something…

‘You can tell me anything,' she told him, bringing his hand to rest against the drumming of her heart.

He didn't pull away, but gazed upon her as though he couldn't quite believe she was there.

‘Wilder?'

His hand covered hers, and he stared at their scarred and dirt-lined fingers. ‘I told myself I didn't care if this was real or not. That if I woke up in that rotten cell again, at least I'd have had this with you, for a moment…'

Thea felt the wind knocked out of her, her heart fracturing for him. ‘It's real,' she whispered. ‘I'm real. You're here with me. You're safe. This is real.'

Wilder's powerful shoulders caved inward and he gave a sad smile. ‘It seemed real enough then, too.'

Tears burned, but Thea refused to let them fall, not now. Now, she had to be strong for him.

She got down from the table and led him to a chair, gently pushing him onto the cushioned seat and kneeling before him. There, she took his chin between her fingers and forced his silver gaze to hers, as he had done with her so many times before. ‘You and I? We're forever. We have been since I spied on you atop the cliffs at Thezmarr, since you shot that arrow at me in the Bloodwoods, and every moment since. We will find a way through this,' she vowed. ‘Together.'

A hint of that dimple she loved followed. ‘I have no doubt, Princess.'

Ignoring the ache in her chest, Thea pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. ‘Still not a princess,' she said.

He shifted, his discomfort suddenly obvious. ‘There's a well out back,' he told her, getting to his feet. ‘I'm going to clean up as best I can.'

‘Do you need help?' She didn't want to push him, but he'd been through a lot. She could see the bruises across his body as he moved, could see the uncertainty in his silver gaze.

‘I've got it covered,' he replied gently.

Thea nodded. Her Warsword needed a moment to himself, to sort through the mess in his head. She let understanding soften her features. ‘I'll be here,' she said.

A short time later, Wilder returned to her, his skin damp, some parts red where he'd clearly scrubbed hard at himself. He all but collapsed back into the chair, but he seemed calmer, more grounded.

‘Now, let me look at you,' Thea said, feeling protective.

Wilder raised a brow and leant back, giving her a full view of his battered but sculpted torso. ‘Who am I to deny you?'

Thea nodded to an open wound at his side. ‘You might feel differently once I start stitching you up.'

‘Good thing I taught you well.'

Thea forced a smile. ‘Good thing Talemir left the liquor.'

Conflict warred across Wilder's face at the mention of his former mentor, but she didn't press. Instead, she went to the counter and picked up the medical kit Talemir had placed on the bar beside the bottle of fire extract.

When she returned to Wilder, he was frowning at the offending wound in the candlelight. It was a long gash along his ribs on his left side, streams of blood trailing from its ragged edges. ‘Another scar to impress the ladies with,' he said roughly.

Thea scoffed. ‘Ladies? Plural?'

‘Just the one.' He winked.

That small gesture alone lightened the weight pressing down on Thea's heart. Her Warsword was still in there, and he'd find his way back to her.

She poured fire extract over a scrap of cloth from the medical kit and waited. ‘I'd be more impressed if you let me clean it.'

Wilder bared his side to her. ‘I can't even feel it —' His body stiffened and he hissed through his teeth as she pressed the alcohol-soaked fabric to his wound. ‘Fuck.'

Thea focused on the task at hand, gently wiping as much blood away from the cut as she could before she prepared the needle and thread, just as he'd taught her. ‘Tell me about this tavern,' she asked. ‘What were you doing here last time?'

Wilder grunted as she made the first suture, but then he looked around the tavern, his expression distant. ‘It was… about eight years ago now. We didn't stay here long…'

‘Who's we?'

‘Me, Tal, Drue, Adrienne and their force of Naarvian rangers. Some of their people had been kidnapped by wraiths – Dratos and Gus were among them. You remember them?'

Thea laughed, but kept her hands steady as she worked. ‘They're hard to forget.'

‘Don't tell Dratos that,' Wilder replied, taking a swig from the fire extract with a grimace. The shadow-touched warrior's head was already big enough. ‘We planned our assault from here. Only stayed one night, if I remember rightly. Definitely didn't make the most of its secret stores…'

Thea didn't look up from her sutures, trying not to wince as she threaded the needle through Wilder's flesh. ‘Kipp would call that a disgrace. To stay at the Dancing Badger and not indulge.'

‘The Son of the Fox does enough indulging for everyone.'

‘He'd disagree,' Thea retorted, finishing her last stitch and tying off the thread. ‘Done. Any other injuries I should know about?'

Wilder surveyed her handiwork. ‘Not bad, Apprentice.'

‘I think we're well past "apprentice" now, don't you?' Thea quipped, rummaging through the medical kit. ‘Let me bandage it.'

Wilder leant forward in the chair, making room for her to wrap the bandage around his middle. As she worked, her fingers brushed over his heated skin and she saw goosebumps rush across his torso, his nipples hardening and his gaze darkening.

‘Don't get any ideas, Warsword…' she murmured as she finished.

But his eyes fell to where her sleeve had slipped up, her scarred wrist revealed once more. This time, she offered it to him. Ever so gently, he took her hand in his and studied her marred flesh. With a featherlight touch, he traced the jagged line of it around the circumference of her wrist. His head bowed and he pressed his lips to the mottled markings.

Thea didn't move as he kissed every inch of it, a ring of reverence.

‘All my other Rite scars disappeared,' she said. ‘But this one… This one was different. I wondered if it was because it was done with Naarvian steel, by my own hand… I guess I'll never know. They said I would always feel it.'

Understanding gleamed in Wilder's gaze. ‘You did it to yourself?'

Thea nodded.

‘I'm sorry you went through that.'

Thea cupped his face, fighting back tears again. One day, they might find a way to share their experiences, to lay it all out for one another, but not today. She wasn't sure she could handle hearing what they'd done to him, not yet. First, she would piece them physically back together. The rest would come.

‘I'm sorry you went through what you went through,' she told him.

Wilder leant into her touch with a shudder, his hand covering hers, as though he still didn't quite believe she was there. ‘When we rejoin the others… we have to look unshakeable. We have to be strong for everyone.'

‘I know,' she said. She hadn't seen their friends since she'd left for the Great Rite, their party not exactly the unified front they needed to end a war. But darkness was coming for them all.

‘I don't feel strong,' Wilder admitted quietly. ‘I don't —'

Thea silenced him with a hard kiss. ‘You are the strongest person I know,' she told him as she withdrew breathlessly. ‘For the longest time I have lived upon the frayed edges of memory, of life. But with you by my side, I feel… reborn. Like you've answered the restlessness within me with power of your own. Power that fits together like pieces of a puzzle.' She traced the line of his jaw, hoping he saw everything she felt for him shining in her stare. ‘Tell me what you need and it's yours.'

Wilder's throat bobbed before he spoke. ‘Do you remember the balcony in Notos? Before the battle began?'

Thea nodded. Those moments would be forever etched into her mind.

‘Do you remember what you said to me?' he asked softly. ‘You said, I need to do something that makes me feel alive. I need you.'

Thea threaded her fingers through his hair once more and hauled his mouth to hers. ‘You have me,' she murmured against his lips. ‘All of me. Mind, body and heart.'

Wilder groaned, his mouth parting beneath hers as she claimed him. This kiss was more frantic, more determined than the ones that had come before, as though it could anchor them to one another. Thea straddled Wilder on the chair and ground herself against the hard length of him. He was like granite, and the pressure of him made her heart stutter. She guided his hands beneath her shirt, his calloused palms grazing her bare skin.

‘This is real,' she told him firmly as she worked herself over him, feeling her undergarments dampen with need, revelling in how his body responded to hers instantly. ‘It's real.'

He pinched her nipples through the band around her breasts and she moaned, aching to feel him bare against her. Wilder's hands shot to her hips, where he gripped her hard, rocking her back and forth over his cock. Pressure was already building from the base of her spine, and she braced herself over him.

‘Thea…' He said her name like a prayer, his voice thick. ‘I —'

Three obnoxiously loud knocks sounded at the door.

They sprang apart. Wilder adjusted the bulge in his pants just in time as Talemir and Dratos the Dawnless strode into the Dancing Badger.

With a regretful glance at Wilder's glorious form, Thea cursed the shadow-touched and their terrible timing, but Dratos simply grinned, his shadows dancing around them, wings tucked neatly behind his back. ‘Time to go, lovebirds,' he drawled.

‘Where?' Wilder asked, taking another swig of fire extract, as though he needed it to deal with Dratos.

But it was Talemir who answered, his own shadows rippling. ‘To the University of Naarva.'