Magic and Mischief at the Wayside Hotel

“Battles cannot be won if you see the enemy as anything other than targets. You cannot for a moment believe they love and hate and fear like you. Turn them into marks on a map or you will lose.”

Pax whispered these words into Josie’s ear while they lay on their stomachs next to each other behind a crumbling barrier of poorly packed snow.

“By the same token,” he continued, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear, sending jolts of arousal from her belly to her core, “you must remember your soldiers have lives and loves for which you are responsible. Protect them to the death.”

Even during Josie’s worst times, reality had never come into question. The revelations two nights ago, coupled with whatever this was sparking between her and Pax, had messed with her brain, though.