CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #2
A pleased smile came to Thom’s lips. Perhaps they were where he’d find his purpose—not in securing a future for himself or in pleasing his own personal designs but in protecting his family.
A little over three months ago, Evylin had brought an opportunity into his life: the chance to care for his brother in a way he never had before.
If there was one purpose, one goal he could accept without hesitation, it was ensuring the happiness of Deckard and Evylin.
He could keep them safe and help secure their future.
Their mission was fraught with danger. But Thom would readily accept the role as their protector.
He would see them through this, no matter what.
Thom resumed his seat near Rafferty and Brea.
While Rafferty was busy chattering to Evylin, Brea sat with her legs crossed, balancing a blade on the tip of her finger, a contemplative expression on her face.
Thinking he shouldn’t distract her, Thom turned, intending to join Rafferty’s conversation, but then she spoke.
“Your ghost friend is strangely revered,” Brea remarked quietly, eyes still on the dagger.
“Hewitt has a way of demanding people’s respect.” Thom motioned to the blade. “That’s a neat trick.”
Brea let it tip forward, then caught the handle in midair. “It’s easy when you’re a Warrior.”
Thom huffed. “Seems most things are easy when you’re a magical being.”
She gave him a flat look, but Deckard spoke before she could respond.
“We should keep watch while we’re still in Wauld.
There are two per tent, so we can sit up in pairs.
If we split the night into quarters, one pair can skip a night, giving us all the opportunity for a solid night of sleep at least once every few days. ”
“Isla and I can take the first watch,” Vayden offered.
“That’s very sacrificial of you,” Rafferty said snidely. “Seeing as that’s the best shift.”
Isla raised her brow. “We’ll take the third shift, then,” she replied.
“We’ll take the second,” Deckard said.
“Guess I’ll take fourth,” Thom said. “You with me, Raff?”
“Sounds delightful, Thommy-boy.”
“I hate to break up the boy’s club,” Brea interrupted. “But I’ll be staying with you, mi’caro.”
“What?” Thom and Deckard asked together.
Almost everyone in the camp looked at Brea in question. Ilain muttered something under her breath, and Auden sighed.
“I’m not going to accost you, Breata,” he said in irritation.
“Forgive me if I don’t want to give you more opportunities to try to convince me to Bond with you,” Brea remarked flatly.
Auden turned to Vayden as though his brother could resolve the issue.
Vayden laughed. “You’ve done this to yourself,” he said unmercifully.
“I fail to see the problem,” Thom said. “We have an even number here. Raff and I will share a tent, Auden can go with Ethenn, and—”
“You’re forgetting,” Ilain interjected, “that Ethenn and I are betrothed.”
Thom blinked, then chuckled nervously. “You’re not seriously going to sleep together, are you?”
“You Ephrians.” Ilain rolled her eyes. “We already have.”
“You said—”
Ilain cut off Rafferty’s accusation. “We’ve shared a bed,” she corrected. “Like any husband and wife would.”
Rafferty’s white-blond brow rose. “A husband and wife would shag,” he said. “Unless you’re the Colonel and Eve.”
Deckard and Evylin sent the weasel a withering look while Thom wiped a hand over his smirk.
“Shut up, Rafferty,” Ethenn said tersely. His eyes kept darting toward Vayden and Auden, a clear streak of red creeping above his collar. “Ilain and I are sharing a tent. That’s the end of it.” Then he turned to Deckard. “We’ll take the first watch.”
Reticent to agree, Deckard glanced between the couple and Thom and Brea. “I’m not sure . . .” He paused, seeking Evylin’s advice with a single look.
She shrugged dramatically. “Don’t ask me.”
“Look,” Brea spoke up again, “this isn’t an issue. I’m a soldier. I’ve shared closed tents with men before. It isn’t as though my virtue is at stake here.”
“Because it’s already been compromised?” Rafferty asked slyly.
Brea shot him a fierce look. “Why don’t you try something and find out?”
Rafferty glanced down at the dagger she still twirled between her fingers. “I’ll pass.”
Thom snorted, then lifted a hand placatingly to the rest of the troop. “I’m not sleeping with you,” he said to Brea.
“Sharing a tent is not the same thing as sharing a bed,” she countered. “We will be on separate bedrolls and in full view of the rest of the camp. And should there be any attempts on my person,” she gave Thom a teasing look, “I’ll have you know that I sleep with five knives at all times.”
Rafferty pulled an intrigued face and nudged Thom’s side. “Not gonna lie,” he murmured, “that’s arousing.”
Thom tried not to imagine being at the end of one of Brea’s knives and turned to Deckard. “It’s fine,” he said. “We either split a couple, or it’s uneven.”
“It isn’t appropriate,” Deckard protested. “You three could share and give her a private tent.”
“Mírce d’Alle,” Brea exclaimed, her accent thick with agitation. “This argument is over. I will share a tent with Thom, or I will sleep under the stars. Conte?”
Gathering the context of her final word, Thom nodded. “Got it.”
“Béne.” She stood then and moved for the tent on the far side of the camp.
Thom pressed his lips together, feeling rather awkward.
He glanced across at Auden, the Mage watching Brea’s departure with something like frustration on his face.
And for the first time, Thom felt sorry for the man’s plight.
While he couldn’t blame Brea for not wanting to live her life knowing she’d been a means to an end, he also couldn’t blame Auden for hoping.
While the rest of the troop began preparing for bed, Thom crossed to where Auden crouched, cleaning the cooking pot. He dropped into a squat beside him. “Just so you know,” he said, “I didn’t mean to make this—”
“You’re not to blame,” Auden interrupted with a sigh.
“I’ve been trying to get Breata to work with me for the last decade.
But I know . . .” A sad smile came to the Mage’s lips.
He looked down at his hands. “Ilain confessed,” he said.
“We don’t keep secrets from one another, and she told me that you know about Maura. ”
“I do,” Thom admitted.
Auden’s vibrant eyes lifted to pierce Thom with determination. “I won’t let her languish in the Deep,” he said. “Not even if saving her kills me. Can you understand that?”
Though Thom had never been in love—not truly—he nodded. He could understand because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do the same for his brother. “I can.”
“Breata won’t work with me. I’ve . . .” A vein flexed in his jaw as he paused. “I’ve come to accept that. But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up hope.”
Thom frowned. “You intend to . . . force her hand?”
“No,” Auden said immediately. “If she were to change her mind of her own accord, I would accept. But I don’t hold out hope for that. No, I intend to find another female Warrior, one who is compassionate to my cause rather than hard-hearted.”
The bitterness in Auden’s words struck Thom with force.
The man was dejected and hurting. He wanted to save the woman he loved, though it would mean he could never be with her.
And it seemed Allore was conspiring against him, taunting him with the means of her salvation in a Warrior who refused to comply.
Thom patted the man’s shoulder once. “Not that I’m much of a help, but. . . .”
Auden nodded at the unfinished sentiment.
Thom began to rise, but Auden caught his elbow. “I’ve not forgotten,” he said.
“Pardon—”
“Ilain tells me everything, remember?” His eyes narrowed. “You helped her. You made her believe you were her friend. Then you betrayed her. If you do it again, it’ll be your ghost that Jonn needs to summon.”
Thom didn’t know how to feel at the threat. It was amusing, startling, and impressive all at once. As an older brother, he could relate to the protective action. As the one being threatened, he didn’t appreciate it. And as a man who was working to be better, he accepted it.
With a dry smile, Thom said, “I know.” Then he got up and left the Day Mage behind.
Nearly everyone was in their tent, ready for sleep. Ethenn and Ilain sat by the fire still, fixed on their watch. When he passed, Rafferty grumbled that he couldn’t believe Thom was leaving him to share a tent with the dreariest member of their troop.
“It isn’t as though I had much say in the matter,” Thom commented.
“You could have let me sleep with her.”
“I wonder why she didn’t think of that herself.”
Leaving Rafferty to his plight, Thom walked up to the tent where Brea sat, draping her coat over her boots.
She’d taken to wearing trousers for their journey, her tucked shirt now hanging loose around her torso.
With her short, trim figure, she looked even smaller under the canvas tent.
It was hard to remember that she was twice his age.
She didn’t look a day older than thirty.
Though her cutting brown stare bespoke a maturity Thom doubted he’d ever understand.
“I pushed the bedrolls apart,” Brea said, a tinge of humor in her tone. “I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I intended to have my way with you.”
Thom took a seat at the foot of his mattress. “My chastity isn’t the one in need of protection,” he teased.
She eyed him knowingly. “If ever I find my womanly virtue threatened, I’ll be sure to defend it myself.”
“I don’t doubt that.” As he removed his boots, Thom glanced at the camp. No one was paying attention to them, but he lowered his voice anyway. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“It’s . . . indelicate.”
“My favorite kind of question.”
Thom smirked but kept his gaze averted as he asked, “You’re fifty-five?”
“That’s a stupid question when I already gave you the answer.”
“No,” Thom laughed. “That’s not the question.”
“Then what is?”