CHAPTER 12 Torj
CHAPTER 12
Torj
‘Lightning can, in fact, strike the same place twice’
– Bear Slayer, Warsword of Thezmarr
I F HE COULD have painted the look on her face, he would have. Incredulity and rage entwined into one frustratingly beautiful package. That alone was almost worth the inconvenience to Torj.
‘No,’ Wren declared, folding her arms over her chest and pinning him with a glare that could have felled a lesser man.
‘I’ll leave you two to discuss the particulars,’ Audra said, having the good sense not to meet his gaze before pushing past him, leaving the Warsword and Poisoner to their showdown.
They hadn’t seen each other since he’d stopped her from killing Edmund Riverton, over two years ago now. She wore the same simple linen gown she always had, its hem muddied, likely from picking herbs in the wilderness somewhere. The fabric brushed over the tops of her sturdy leather boots, the laces half undone.
Anything soft about her had been carved away, and what remained had hardened into steel. The angles of her face were harsher, the glint in her green eyes was more determined, and that wicked scar that ran down the length of her throat...It showed the world just how fearless she was.
The web of scars across Torj’s heart prickled, as though something lingering in his marred flesh recognized its maker—
‘If you’ve finished ogling me...’ Wren’s ire did not abate. ‘I thought you were in the new world, beyond the border of the old Veil?’
Torj didn’t tell her that his post had never come to pass. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. Instead, he offered her another sly smile that he knew would infuriate her. ‘Keeping tabs on me, are you, Embervale?’
‘You wish, Bear Slayer.’ Her words were clipped, ice-sharp. ‘What were you thinking? Putting your hand up for this ridiculous job?’
He tensed, the scars over his heart still prickling. ‘You think I asked for this?’
‘Then tell Audra to find someone else,’ Wren retorted.
‘You think that wasn’t the first thing I said to her? But it doesn’t work like that.’
The mere sight of her brought back every ounce of anger he’d felt in the aftermath of Edmund Riverton’s death, at how she’d so thoroughly screwed him over. And yet, Torj couldn’t help it: his eyes travelled over her once more, a sweeping dip from head to toe and up again, taking in the tight cinch of her waist beneath a leather belt that housed a dozen tools and vials – poisons, no doubt. By no means did it make him less furious with her, but there was also the bodice that pressed her breasts together in a way that made his cock pulse alongside his agitation.
Her throat bobbed as though she could sense the nature of his thoughts, the long, white scar shifting with the movement. ‘Then tell me...how does it work?’ Her eyes darted to the floor, to the exact spot where she’d killed Osiris in the most calculated of ways. Torj wasn’t likely to forget that. He only needed to be careful she didn’t poison him .
‘You do as I say, and I keep you safe.’
Wren gave a dark laugh. ‘Just like that?’
‘Just like that, Embers.’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she snapped.
It gave him more joy than it should have. ‘Oh? Should I call you something else instead? You’ve more than earned the title of the Poisoner...What’s your ledger at now? Seven? Eight?’
A muscle flickered along Wren’s jaw. ‘Now who’s keeping tabs?’
Everyone knew that Thea was the outwardly rebellious sister, the one who had been ruthless and ambitious from the start, but what fewer people knew was that Elwren Embervale was all those things too, only more dangerous. Because no one had known about those traits in her until it was too late. No one except Torj. Torj knew, and he’d learned that lesson several times over.
Since the start of the war and the battles that followed, that brutal edge to Wren had sharpened, and was always poised to cut. She was beautiful as always, but now she was honed like a blade. Torj could feel the heat of her in his chest, beneath those lightning-shaped scars that seemed to answer to her. Without thinking, he rubbed his sternum, and Wren’s gaze followed his hand to the triangle of tattooed skin revealed beneath his shirt.
‘See something you like?’ he taunted.
Those stormy eyes narrowed. ‘Hardly.’ She pushed past him. ‘Just stay out of my way, Bear Slayer.’
Every muscle taut with awareness, he was left alone in the doorway, staring after her, fists clenched at his sides, her scent lingering in the air.
A low whistle sounded from the other end of the corridor. ‘You certainly haven’t won any favours.’ Wilder approached him with a grimace.
‘I’m not here to win over princesses,’ Torj muttered, trying to force down the temper that had bloomed in Wren’s wake. ‘I’m here to do a job.’
Wilder snorted. ‘Keep telling yourself that.’
Torj fully intended to. He’d spent the better part of half a decade carving a brutal path through the midrealms and beyond, leaving a trail of bloodshed and conquest in his wake. All in a desperate bid to forget the green-eyed poisoner. Now, her magic seemed to flicker deep within him, a lone ember remaining from a battle long past.
‘You were supposed to be the wise one. What happened to all those pearls of wisdom you forced onto me over the years?’ Wilder’s tone was apprehensive.
Torj realized he was still staring down the now empty hall. ‘People change.’
‘I can see that. Don’t let it be for the worse.’
Torj gave a huff of irritation. ‘I liked you better when you were a moody bastard.’
‘Suppose there’s only room for one of those in this fortress.’
‘Hilarious.’ Torj surveyed his friend, realizing that he carried several books under his arm. ‘You studying for something I don’t know about?’
‘No.’ To his surprise, Wilder held them out to him. ‘You are. Audra said to give these to you... Vigilance and Valour sounds like riveting stuff.’
Torj turned the top tome over in disbelief. ‘ Vigilance and Valour: Tactical Training for Professional Bodyguards ...’ he read aloud. ‘You’ve got to be fucking joking.’
Wilder clapped him heartily on the shoulder. ‘I’d say have fun, but...’
‘Oh, fuck off, Hawthorne.’
Amusement gleamed in his friend’s eyes before he shrugged. ‘Maybe you’ll be exactly what each other needs.’
‘Or maybe we’ll kill each other.’
‘Or that,’ Wilder allowed.
Rubbing his aching chest, Torj sighed heavily. ‘I guess we’ll see soon enough.’
At dawn the next day, their party of five – Torj, Wren, Farissa, Cal and Kipp – stood on the docks, waiting to board the Sea Serpent’s Destiny to Naarva, where Drevenor Academy awaited. After spending the night locked away in her rooms with Thea, Wren had insisted that they slip away without fanfare or farewells. According to her, there was no time to waste.
The sea air was brisk, for which Torj was eternally grateful. His body hadn’t cooled down since arriving at the fortress, and he was loath to admit it had anything whatsoever to do with the irritating poisoner at his side.
‘I have a suggestion,’ he said to Wren.
‘Furies save us,’ she muttered.
Eyes narrowing, he pushed on. ‘We need to get you learning self-defence. Even a few additional manoeuvres could make all the difference. You need to be aware of your surroundings at all times.’
Wren fixed him with a cold look. ‘I know the basics. Every Thezmarrian is taught—’
‘You mean those little lessons the weapons master gave you when you were what? Twelve?’ He laughed.
‘I’m not taking lessons from you.’
Torj shook his head in disbelief. ‘Thea begged us to train her.’
As soon as the words left his lips, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.
Wren’s expression darkened. ‘I’m not my sister.’
He passed a hand over his face in frustration. ‘I’ve been ordered to protect you.’
‘So protect away, Bear Slayer. If I need to use fancy defensive moves, it means you’re not doing your job properly. My time and skills are needed elsewhere.’
‘Gods,’ he muttered.
‘Are you forgetting that I’m a storm wielder, Warsword? Or that I saved you more than once during the war?’
His eyes met hers in a blaze of fury. ‘I forget nothing , Embervale.’
‘Could have fooled me,’ she countered, her chin lifted in defiance. Torj had seen that look before, when she was battling not only with someone else, but against something within. He knew that feeling well enough himself.
‘Look,’ he said, forcing down his frustration. ‘We’ve known each other a long time. We go way back, before the war. Don’t you remember how we first met—?’
‘No,’ Wren said bluntly. ‘I don’t.’
‘Liar.’ Torj checked his temper. ‘I assure you, Poisoner, I like this even less than you, but we have to work together—’
‘There is no we .’
‘There is now.’ He wasn’t going to let her get away with this. She was being childish, stubborn and a certified pain in his arse. She had cost him his post abroad once before; he’d be damned if he let her do so again.
Wren made to leave, and his hand shot out, grasping hers. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his fingers as they closed over her palm. He had to suppress a gasp of shock.
The touch was electric.
It was the first they’d shared in over two years, and it was charged with every bit of storm power he remembered. Raw energy danced across the lines of his scars, and he ground his teeth against the sensation.
But he wasn’t done.
‘We are bound together, you and I,’ he growled. ‘Ever since you blasted me full of lightning in the war, Embervale. There’s no undoing it. I didn’t ask for that, and I didn’t ask for this either...But here we fucking are.’
Her gaze dropped to where he held her hand.
‘You may not want it,’ he breathed, feeling her pulse flutter beneath his touch. ‘But you are mine to keep safe.’
A tempest broke in Wren’s eyes. ‘I am no such thing,’ she spat, jerking out of his hold as though burned. She stormed off to where Cal was motioning for their party to board the Sea Serpent’s Destiny .
A light chuckle sounded at Torj’s side, and he turned to find Kipp grinning from ear to ear.
‘She really hates you,’ the strategist said cheerfully.