Chapter 23 - Trew
TREW
The scent of roasted meats and wild herbs curled through the high-vaulted dining hall, layered over the warm tang of perfume, wine, and magic.
Golden orbs of light floated lazily above the long tables, making the polished stone floors gleam and highlighting my people enjoying the celebration.
Cutlery clinked, laughter bounced off the walls, and the air vibrated with a strange, post-trial euphoria that made even the stone walls hum with life.
Magical platters drifted between the tables, laden with delicacies that would make even kings weep. Honey-glazed fowl that fell apart at the touch of a fork. Fruits that sparkled with their own inner light. And breads of every grain imaginable.
Carafes dipped here and there, topping off glasses with wines that had aged in caves touched by dragon flame or ale brewed deep beneath the Southern Sea.
Everyone gorged themselves as if they’d never eat again.
The freshly elevated warriors had been starving for days, and the rest of us easily remembered that feeling when we’d made it through the trials and achieved a bond.
The trials hollowed a person out, leaving them desperate for anything that proved they were still alive.
We mourned. Each loss of one of my people fractured my bones. But tonight was for celebrating those who’d lived.
I ate, but I didn’t taste a thing. Because she had walked in.
Isi.
I was pleased to see she wore everything I’d chosen for her.
The pale blue tunic clung to her like it had been sewn by a lover’s hands, soft enough to mold her every curve. The fabric caught the light and threw it back in the rippling waves of water cascading down falls. It perfectly matched the color of her eyes, which was why I’d had it made for her.
The pants I’d given her hugged her legs, making her look both powerful and graceful. And the blade rode her hip like a threat. She’d literally stabbed me, and I’d armed her so she could try again.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d looked after her bath…
She paused with her friends, them grinning as they peered around, her looking slightly out of place. A lily among a bed of simple daisies.
Our gazes met, and I could not drag mine away. She did it for me, jerking her head to the side, speaking to Lexie as if I wasn’t staring at her from across the room like a fool.
Bryson pointed to a table, and they followed him, Isi walking with the confidence of someone who’d learned to survive by never showing weakness or fear. A few others in the hall tracked her movement, though she seemed oblivious to their attention. Or maybe she didn’t care.
I wanted to rise and stride straight to her.
Then I’d drop to my knees in front of her and press my forehead to her belly, feel her fingers tangle in my hair.
Would she be gentle or would she tug hard enough to capture all my attention?
I’d drag her down to my level so I could hold her face and taste her mouth, taste the defiance that made my blood pound through my veins.
I could picture it so clearly it made my chest ache. Her surprise melting into something darker, hungrier. Her hands latching onto my tunic before gliding to my nape. Her body softening for me alone. This woman continuously fought me, all fire and fury, and I wanted to devour every spark.
I touched my abdomen, tracing the spot where her blade had sunk deeply. I’d healed it myself the moment her blade slid from my flesh, but now I wished I’d left a scar. Then I could proudly proclaim that she’d marked me.
Bryson rounded my end of a half-full table, waving for the others to take seats around him. Isi passed me without looking my way.
Lexie glowed with pride as she strutted over to take her place, Derren claiming the seat beside her. She wore the boots I’d given Isi.
Isi, however, wore old, scuffed shoes. I stared, stunned by the sheer audacity this woman wielded like a blade.
I’d bet anything the shoes belonged to Lexie.
This was a small rebellion on her part, a spark flung at my feet to see if I’d catch fire.
I didn’t want to stamp that spark out. I wanted to watch it burn while shaping the flame with my hands.
My low laugh burst from me, startling those sitting nearby. Kira grinned, her wine goblet freezing halfway to her mouth, while others paused in their meals to stare with expressions ranging from curiosity to outright shock. As if I hadn’t laughed in ages.
And maybe I hadn’t.
“What’s funny?” Kira asked, her brows arching.
“Nothing.” Just a tiny war I’d already lost.
I watched Isi slide in to sit next to Kerralyn, Bryson seated on her other side.
Kira’s eyes followed my gaze, and her face transformed when she realized who’d captured my attention. Something flickered behind her lashes, a tightening, a shift. She leaned closer not only to taunt me, but to reclaim some part of me she feared was slipping from her grasp.
I’d never been hers. I never would be.
Her voice dropped to that honeyed purr she used when she wanted to sink her fangs in deep. “Did you notice her minxpip still hasn’t returned? Makes you wonder what that means.”
I didn’t respond.
She went on, her eyes narrowing like blades. “Such a pitiful creature. Both of them, actually. I expected to see it cowering on her shoulder.”
I kept my expression neutral and did not reply. My breath solidified in my chest, however. I’d noticed. Every newly honed warrior had their small companion perched on their shoulder, nibbling from their plates, or curled in their lap.
Except Isi.
“The girl and her missing pet,” Kira said, each word precisely chosen, precisely aimed to hit hardest. “Such a sad tale. Maybe it realized it made a mistake. I’m sure it’s ashamed to be seen with someone so…” She paused, pretending to search for the right word. “Inadequate.”
“Shut the fuck up.” The words gouged into the space between us.
She flinched, her perfectly composed mask cracking, revealing the wound I’d dealt underneath.
Her death adder lifted its triangular head and snapped toward my hand where it rested on the table.
I jerked my hand out of the way. “Control your pest, or I’ll do it for you.” Fury churned through me, blasting outward.
Gavelle felt it too. He plunged off the high back of my throne, talons extended, snatching the serpent up and lifting her all the way to the ceiling. His talons let loose, and the death adder dropped toward the cold stone floor, twisting midair.
Kira lashed out with her magic, snatching her companion from the air and returning the snake to her wrist, where she coiled tightly. Kira’s hands trembled as she stroked the menace’s spine before her stunned gaze returned to my face.
Hurt flashed in her eyes, stolen quickly by anger.
While Isi was my sole vulnerability, I suspected I was Kira’s only weakness. The line between ally and enemy was too thin. Maybe it always had been.
I should replace her, send her far away.
Bryson gave Isi a warm smile and offered her a trencher full of succulent meat. She placed her arm on his shoulder and leaned close, saying something to him I couldn’t hear, though the laughter tinkling in her voice gouged through my spine.
I froze, every muscle pulled tight. Her eyes, bright and reckless, should only find mine. And when she brushed her fingers against his to take the platter, the beast she’d awakened inside me snarled.
This was nothing. Casual. She didn’t see him as anything but a fatherly friend.
It was theft all the same. I wanted her every smile, every glance, every touch. I wanted the pieces of her no one else saw, from the broken edges to the soft ones, even the ones she was determined to keep hidden.
“Mine,” I whispered. Not in the way a king claims land but in the way a man claims the one thing in the world he’d burn everything to call his own.
I wanted to drag her out of the room, push her against a wall, and pin her in place with my body, then kiss her until she forgot anyone existed but me.
A low, primal need twisted inside me, a heat that had nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with hunger. I wanted to rip her away from him, cage her in my arms and kiss her until she moaned my name while the world turned black and burning.
Bryson lifted his furless companion onto his lap and fed it bits of meat, the creature gobbling down each bite like it might be its last.
Isi laughed and leaned in to offer the beast bites of her own meal, rubbing his head after.
The companion preened.
Bryson grinned.
And I ground my teeth together.
Settling back, she continued eating, but I didn’t miss how her hand kept straying to her empty shoulder, how she kept carefully looking around. She’d seen the contentment that came with being chosen in her friends, and I suspected she felt its lack starkly.
I knew that quiet flicker of doubt. The loneliness. She thought the pip had left her. That she hadn’t been chosen.
I wanted to walk over to her. Tell her I understood the emptiness that ate up all your joy, leaving you wallowing in the hollow feeling left behind. That feeling that maybe you weren’t strong or worthy enough. She must feel she’d failed a test she hadn’t even known she was taking.
I started to stand. My body did it before my mind caught up. In a few steps, I’d be at her side. I’d kneel beside her chair and tell her that sometimes the greatest bonds took time to forge. That her minxpip’s absence might not mean rejection.
Then she’d give me a real smile, one full of sweetness and sunlight and the kind of stubbornness that made men ruin kingdoms.
If I touched her now, I’d never be able to stop, so I made myself remain in my seat.
The meal was winding down now, the initial frenzy of hunger giving way to conversation and the warm lethargy that came from good food and excellent drinks.
People leaned back in their chairs, the new warriors sharing stories of their trials, those who’d been through it themselves nodding with understanding.
The magical platters were cleared away, along with the empty trenchers, leaving only refilled goblets and a feeling of triumph.
I let the moment stretch, watching them savor this time when the future seemed perfect.
Then I rose, and the room quieted.
“Newly bonded,” I said, letting my voice fill the hall. “Warriors!”
Cheers echoed in the room and drinks were raised and sipped.
When the furor died down, I spoke again. “Tomorrow you’ll report to the training hall at first light. There, teams will be named.”
The words struck like a gauntlet thrown down. Ripples of excitement and dread moved through the tables, excitement at the prospect of finally beginning their real training, plus dread at the implications of team assignments.
Isi met my gaze without flinching, and I felt that familiar jolt arc between us. Her cheeks flushed pink, but her chin lifted in that impossible, reckless way she used only with me. The way that made me want to kiss her and throttle her at the same time.
She was daring me to do my worst, yet she had no idea what was coming for her next.
But I did. I’d see to it personally.
The fates help us both because I couldn’t wait.