Chapter 16
It takes more convincing than it should, but I finally get Cal to agree to let me take the first watch. The stubborn man would sooner deprive himself of rest he desperately needs if it meant I could sleep all night, even after sleeping for hours today on horseback.
I’m still not comfortable with this imbalance of kindness, a fact I reminded him of repeatedly. He only agreed to sleeping first on the condition that we didn’t pitch the tent tonight. Apparently the thin canvas tent blocks his hearing and he doesn’t trust me not to doze off.
He doesn’t say that last part, of course, but he doesn’t have to.
The night air is cool compared to the heat of the sun today, but it’s warmer than it has been since before the first snow fell. From my reclined position, if I angle my head just to the left, the pine boughs part enough to allow me a clear view of the celestial-filled sky.
The stars are the eyes of the gods.
Or that’s what the priests say, at least. I’ve always thought they were more; always imagined them as individual worlds, variations of our reality where we are different people. Realms where our fates are still undetermined.
Imagination can be a cruel and wicked thing.
I’ve known since I was a little girl that my fate was written, unchangeable by any but the beast who marked me that day in the sea. When I felt the rush of power in my blood for the first time, I thought it was a gift from the gods. But in the same breath they gave me magic, they took my mother.
They took my mother. The supposed gods who hold an unopposed dominion over us. The serpent marked me and cursed me with dreams foretelling my demise, and for reasons only the gods know, they decided to tie Cal’s fate with mine.
I could probably run from him, but I won’t get far.
I could probably resist him, but I won’t last long.
The gods always get what they want in the end—and what they want is entertainment.
Forget our feelings.
Forget our choices.
Forget our plans.
We are expendable playthings in their arena of sick, twisted games.
“No.”
Cal’s voice is barely a whisper as he thrashes on his bedroll, the sheen of sweat visible on his furrowed brow. White-knuckled fists clench at his sides as he jerks painfully in his restless sleep.
My heart aches in a way I didn’t know it was capable of. To live in horrible dreams every night is one thing, but to watch as someone else is trapped in one is entirely another. The urge to soothe him is nearly unbearable.
A scream slices through the night. One single word falling from his parted lips.
“Ivy!”
Every muscle in my body tightens. I know this pain because I’ve felt it in my own dreams; desperation so deep it feels as if the core of your being is ripping into two. Cal doesn’t just know that we’re connected, he feels it as deeply as I do.
My body moves before my mind can command it, my hands cupping the captain’s drenched cheeks.
“I’m right here,” I whisper.
Depthless gray eyes suddenly stare back at me and steal my breath.
In this moment of unguarded vulnerability, I see them in a way that I haven’t before.
They’re the misty color of a brackish pool when the tide recedes; the color of smoke billowing from a fire that’s just been doused; the sparkling color of a newly polished wedding band.
They contain the multitudes of a life filled with days by the shore, fires in the forest, and bells ringing in the gods’ temple.
Entire lifetimes stare back at me.
Words stick in my throat like thick honey. I can’t speak, can’t move, can’t tear my eyes away from his unyielding stare. The longer he holds it, the closer I get to the cliff’s edge, the precipice overlooking the depthless ocean where I am destined to drown.
Magic unlike any I have ever felt rushes across the top of my skin and skates down my chest, power swelling into a wave that threatens to break over us both. Together, in this moment with his power commingling with mine, we feel infinite.
And, for the first time, I wonder if the fall might be worth it.
My body screams in protest as I push myself onto my elbows on the rocky ground.
Cal is noticeably absent from our makeshift camp, the thin bedroll I sidled up against also gone.
I ignore the way my heart aches at the memory of his eyes, of the distressed sound of my name on his lips, and of the feel of his fingers lightly resting on my arm as he fell asleep.
I sit up and audibly groan at the strain.
The attack yesterday, the amount of magic I used to cover it up … it’s been a long time since I’ve expended that much energy. We’re two weeks from the full moon and the Ascension Vote. If things go awry and we have to resort to Cal’s plans to kill our adversaries, I need to be ready.
My last training session ended in a brawl rather than a lesson. I brought fury and a blade into the ring, and I lost both my cool and the battle for Quinn that night.
I will never forget the look on Nick Adler’s face when I showed up and challenged him, not to win her hand for myself—gods know a love like that is forced into the shadows in Corinth—but to win it for her.
One of our many archaic traditions that both Lords Bartlett and Adler would have been forced to honor.
“I would say ‘good morning’ but it doesn’t look good from where I’m standing.”
Cal waits at the edge of the trees, arms crossed over his broad, shirtless chest. Droplets of water coat the inky sea beast, gleaming in the early morning sun like scales.
“What is it, princess?” He moves towards me, squatting deeply until he’s eye-level with my still seated body.
“I want you to train me.” Cal’s eyes light up, making me instantly regret my word choice. “I lost my last fight and I don’t plan to lose another.”
“Considering you’re still breathing and he’s not, I’d definitely say you won, princess,” Cal jokes.
“Not him,” I correct. “He couldn’t have used that sword to cut himself out of a burlap sack. He was easy. My next fight won’t be. I need to be able to take down a formidable opponent. Someone with power.”
“Power?” he asks slowly, repeating the word and letting it settle between us.
“Marks won’t touch you with a blade,” Cal says definitively.
“Why? Because you’ll protect me?” I scoff.
“With my life, Ivy.”
Cal stands until he’s at his full height, seconds that feel more like minutes stretching between us. Only when he’s sure that I’ve felt the full weight of his words does he arch his full lips into a playful smile and extend his hand to help me up.
“Come on. You’re going to want to clean up before you get dirty again.”
“I don’t plan on spending much time on the ground,” I quip back, taking his hand to rise to my feet.
“I’m going to ready the horses. Can you wash up quickly?” Cal asks.
“Can you find a shirt?”
“I could…” he teases, tossing my saddlebag towards me, “but now that I know it bothers you, I probably won’t.”
“Wouldn’t want to deprive the ladies of Gathe of a good show, now would you? Might as well put your body on display when we ride into the city. Do a little fishing … see if anyone bites.”
Cal closes the distance between us in two long strides, stopping only when his body is inches from mine.
“My body isn’t for their eyes … and I’m the one who bites.”
The captain lays a cotton towel on top of the bag in my arms. His eyes trail over me as he takes slow, deliberate steps backwards, further fanning the flames of the fire he’s just ignited in my core.
Thank the gods that whatever water awaits me in the nearby stream will no doubt be ice cold. This is dangerous territory, and I’ve just asked him to train me, to pin me down on the ground, his hips touching …
Get it together, Ivy.
Cal’s back is to me as he tightens the saddle on my mare.
“I was planning to amend our schedule so that you could sleep in a real bed tonight, but if you stand there all day…”
I turn and dash through trees before he can finish that sentence.
Not only do I need to put physical distance between us and douse myself in cold water, but there’s not much I wouldn’t do for a hearty meal and a night on something more comfortable than a damn bed roll.
Even if that inn happens to be in the capital city of the Ruby Region.
Once I’m clean, calmed down, and dressed to spar, I make my way back to camp.
I would usually forgo my leather corset as it constricts my range of motion, but it also allows me to hide specially designed blades in the faux boning.
And, selfishly, it also makes my breasts look great.
An asset that will no doubt work in my favor when it comes to distracting my opponent.
“This one is eager to have a rider. I think she missed you yesterday,” Cal says, handing me the reins of my caramel-colored mare.
Thank the gods he’s fully clothed again.
The horse whinnies as I mount, clearly aware that we’re talking about her.
“I think extra apples are in store for you when we reach Gathe.”
Cal and his mare let out a snort at the same time.
“Do you hear that old girl? She gets a day off and extra apples. Meanwhile you’ve carried twice the weight while I rode bareback for hours.”
“Fine. Apples for all three of you. But only if you’re on your best behavior today.”
Cal’s mare lifts her head high as if to show how dutiful she plans to be, eliciting an unexpected laugh from her rider.
“I don’t really care much for apples anyway.” Cal’s voice is low as he spurs his horse ahead into the woods, once again leaving me in his wake.