Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
She sits huddled by the fire when I return, carefully polishing her necklace. Firelight dances in her eyes, teeth pressed into her lower lip.
A throbbing ache in my heart steals my breath.
“Mayah.”
Beautiful blue eyes fix on me. She smiles, and the ache grows stronger.
“We—we can’t go to Arbinj.”
Her brow furrows, necklace set aside.
“It’s not safe. They’ll hurt you, and I—I won’t be able to stop them.”
“I don’t understand.” A crease etches between her brows, and my hand wavers with the urge to smooth it away.
“Come with me to Volca. My mother’s homeland.” Desperation threads every syllable. “We’ll leave this realm, find somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”
“What about the war? My father? My people? I can’t just leave them. They need me.”
Shame coats my tongue. I don’t care about any of those things—not my people, not my kingdom, not my father. Nothing matters except the woman before me. The woman I’ve fallen in love with. The woman who reached into my chest, found my withered heart, and set it beating again.
“Mayah, please.” I fall to my knees, begging. “Faramir, he’s—he’s not right. He’ll hurt you. In so many ways. Please. Come with me. I can’t let you marry him. He’s a monster.”
Her face freezes as the words pass through my lips.
Then, it morphs into a look of utter disgust. Lip curled, eyes narrowed. Warm blue eyes frost over with hatred.
Where is the woman I love?
“Monster?” she hisses. Her face is unrecognizable in its fury. “Did Faramir murder my friends?”
No. No, no, no.
“Did he spend a decade killing my people?”
No, but—
“Did he tie me up until my wrists bled? Did he forcibly hold me down in the snow?”
Mayah, no, I love—
“The only monster I see is you.”
I haven’t taken a full breath for days, not since that wretched dream stole my sleep and my peace. Even still, the desire to whisk her away burns hot in my chest.
A few times, I’ve almost said it.
Come with me. I can’t let you marry him.
But the words never pass my cowardly lips.
Her cold, disdainful face crashes through my mind. The pointed cruelty of her words. The fear that my nightmare will become a reality.
So I said nothing. Did nothing.
And now, the Arbinji army base sprawls before us in the distance. Soldiers roam about, their rumbling voices echoing through the air. In the center of the camp, a large metal spire reaches toward the sky.
I cast Mayah an apologetic glance. “The safest way to alert them of my return is to summon a storm.”
She nods, my brave girl.
No. Not mine. Never mine.
My hand twitches, desperate to comfort her, but I keep it firmly at my side.
Instead, I summon my power, and the sky darkens overhead.
Beside me, Mayah takes deep, steadying breaths.
I raise a hand.
Thunder shakes the earth.
The sky tears open, and a powerful bolt of lightning hits the spire.
A soft cry escapes Mayah’s lips, and this time, I can’t stop myself. I grab her hand, squeezing it tightly. She squeezes back, her grip firm around my fingers.
And my heart.
“The Commander has returned!” one soldier shouts, tearing my attention away from Mayah. The soldiers line up in formation.
“Ready?” I ask her.
She nods, though I know she isn’t.
We walk into camp, side by side. The men cheer when they see me, though their voices hitch when they catch sight of the woman beside me. Irritation skates up my spine, but Mayah keeps her chin high.
“Commander!” Sulon greets, elbowing his way to the front. “We had thought you dead. The attack—”
“We survived, Sulon. Clearly,” I interrupt. No time for his monologues. “Tell me the developments. Quickly.”
My second-in-command’s narrowed gaze flicks to Mayah, then back to me. I grit my teeth, tempted to push her behind me so my men keep their fucking eyes off her.
“The Tundrayni forces found the attacked carriages. It was difficult to identify the bodies—it’s tense, sire.
Tormik blames Arbinj, says we planned the attack to kill his daughter.
” Another glance at Mayah. “The only thing that prevented a retaliatory attack is the fact that you’ve been missing as well. ”
“You didn’t send search parties for us?”
He shakes his head. “Tormik wouldn’t allow more Arbinji soldiers on Tundrayni land. He said he sent his own search parties.”
I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “We leave for the capital immediately. Ready a squad to accompany us.”
Thirty minutes later, our horses are ready. I watch from a short distance, strapping on fresh armor, as Mayah stares at the large stallions, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. I force my gaze away but keep her in my periphery.
“Sulon,” I snap. The bulky man jerks his head toward me. “We passed a cottage on our way here—a middle-aged woman and her young son.”
He stares at me blankly.
“They had a well. Soldiers siphoned it dry weeks ago.”
Recognition dawns on his face.
“Were you aware?” I grit out.
He averts his gaze. “We were low on water, sire. A handful of soldiers returned with a few barrels. Said a family had provided them willingly.”
No prickles.
“Have those men lashed. Fifteen each. Then make it clear to every fucking man in this camp that under no circumstances are they to steal from villagers.”
He nods quickly, muttering, “Yes, sire.”
Satisfied, I head toward Mayah, Sulon close behind me. Her shoulders are stiff, neck craned as she warily eyes the snorting horses.
“Zev,” she whispers, “I don’t know how to ride. We don’t have horses in Tundrayn.”
“You can—”
“She can ride with me,” Sulon interjects.
He’s never interrupted me once, not in the three years he’s been my second, or the six years before that as a general under my command.
“No.” My voice is rough. The thought of Mayah pressed up against him has fury crackling through my veins. “She’ll ride with me.”
“But, sire—”
“Are you questioning my orders?” A low rumble of thunder sounds overhead.
“No, no,” he stammers. “It’s just … you’ve been burdened with her for weeks. I only thought—”
“Don’t think.”
Sulon’s mouth tightens, and he casts Mayah a wrathful glare.
Something snaps inside of me.
My hand clamps around his jaw. “Something you’d like to say to your future queen?” I snarl.
“No, sire,” Sulon splutters, his face turning red.
I shove him back. “Bow to her.”
He hesitates, eyes wide.
I have no patience for disobedience, and evidently, even less for disrespect for Mayah.
My voice booms like thunder. “Now!”
Sulon drops to his knees, head bowed.
I can’t decipher the expression on Mayah’s face, though I don’t think she’s pleased with me.
I walk past Sulon, mounting my horse, then help Mayah up behind me. Her arms settle loosely around my waist, though she keeps distance between our bodies. I glare down at Sulon. “Remain kneeling until we’re out of sight.”
Then, I dig my heels into the horse’s flank, and we set off.
We ride for hours. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this—the thundering beast beneath me, wind whipping my face.
Mayah’s grip around my waist is iron-tight. At first she was afraid, soft whimpers and surprised gasps. As the ride progressed, she slowly grew more comfortable, though she hasn’t loosened her hold.
I’m the worst kind of bastard, relishing in her body pressed against mine while she’s terrified—though it doesn’t stop me from urging the stallion into a few unnecessary jumps.
Another twenty minutes, and I raise a hand to signal the men to stop. I dismount quickly, then bracket my hands around Mayah’s waist and help her down.
She looks pissed, and by the looks of it, has been simmering the entire ride.
“You shouldn’t have made Sulon bow like that,” she hisses as soon as her booted feet touch the ground. “The men will resent me for it. You’re not doing me any favors.”
She looks so fucking adorable, brows drawn tight, teeth bared in a snarl, that it’s difficult to keep a straight face.
“I lost my temper. I’m sorry.” My lips twitch.
Her mouth parts in surprise before she snaps her jaw shut with an audible clack. The fury in her icy gaze doesn’t melt, but she nods stiffly. I glance at the men—one of the nonwielders starts a fire, while the earthwielders quickly grow food.
“I need to sit with the men,” I murmur, turning back to her. “I’ve been gone for so long, it’s important to rebuild rapport. Do you feel comfortable sitting with us?”
Her eyes cut to the men, then back to me. “I’ll come. But I won’t tolerate disrespect,” she warns.
“I’d be disappointed if you did.”
We walk to where the soldiers sit in a circle. Druzak roasts freshly grown stalks of corn over the fire.
There are two open spots on opposite sides of the fire—I wait for the men to rearrange themselves, but they don’t. I grit my teeth. If I ordered them to move so Mayah could sit beside me, she’d likely be pissed and throw something at me.
So, in an epic show of self-restraint, I say nothing.
I squeeze in beside Druzak, and Mayah sits across from me. The men have the sense to give her a wide berth, pressing against each other to give her more space.
Mayah stares at the corn, her eyes flickering with an emotion I can’t decipher. She seems to enjoy it, though, when she peels back the husk and bites into the charred kernels.
I ask each of the soldiers about their families and their health. Thankfully, they keep their responses clean. Normally, we’d hear about their dalliances.
“Any trouble with the Rebellion?” I reach for another stalk of corn.
“No, sire. They’ve been quiet since the attack on your party,” Druzak says. He laughs, adding, “Probably nursing their wounds after facing your wrath.”
The other men laugh in agreement, some of them slapping me on the back. My gaze cuts to Mayah—she wants to roll her eyes, I know it. I quirk a smile at her, and her gaze drops to her lap.
“What about the palace?” I add, still looking at Mayah.
“Er, just a rumor, sire,” Druzak continues. “But the Volcans might be sending an emissary. There’s been whispers about a battalion being sent to the coast to accompany them.”
The Volcans?
Mayah meets my gaze, concern shadowing her pretty eyes, and I find myself wondering the same thing that likely plagues her: what has my father been up to?
And what does it mean for Mayah?