Chapter 12
It would have been courteous of my darling husband to tell me the only way I was leaving the Chamber of Truths was in handcuffs.
I glowered at the dark blue magic coiled around my wrists, my steps dragging.
Sweat rolled down the back of my neck as the heat sweltered, and I shivered as I traipsed over the leaf-strewn ground.
I couldn’t even brush the sweat off or swat at flies as they dared to come close because I was bound and cuffed.
“It suits you,” Ryvan remarked, traipsing happily at my side and fending off every glare I shot his way. “You look like a proper criminal now. You just need some scary tattoos to complete the picture.”
“I don’t see a tattooist nearby, but maybe I can bathe in blood instead, really sell the scary criminal vibe. Would you volunteer yours?” I asked sweetly.
Ryvan flattened a hand to his heart. “I’m starting to think you genuinely want me dead with all these threats.”
“Yup.”
I used my bound hands to reach for a branch at forehead-height but a broad hand got there before I could touch it. Another broad, tanned, veiny (super sexy) hand latched around the branch, and Kier wrenched it violently out of Hames’s grip with a little growl. It snapped off the tree entirely.
“This is fun,” I whispered to Ryvan.
My friend’s face lit up with wickedness, his midnight eyes full of humour and mischief. “Don’t worry, Hamesy,” he remarked, turning to pat our troupe member on the bulging bicep. “You’re still our big, scary protector even if the prince gets there first.”
“I got there first,” Hames muttered. But he kept his voice down. He might have been surly and pissed at having his role in the group challenged, but he walked the line of respect with Kier.
“Enough bickering,” Jakoda snapped, transferring her warning stare from Ryvan and I to Hames, then Cherish and Aerona where they brought up the rear with Rook. The whole gang was here—my troupe, Kier’s friends, and every guard in between. “I’m sweating too much to deal with your nonsense.”
I winced in sympathy. I was slick and slushy where a woman ought to never be slick and slushy. “My vision neglected to mention the trees were a damn tropical forest.”
“How much further do you think it is, Letta?” Hames asked, pulling alongside me on my right, even the cool shadow of him falling over me like a balm and relief. I’d only been locked up alone for two days, but it felt like weeks.
I caught Kier watching us, rubbernecking with his head turned in an awkward position, and smirked. When I wiggled my fingers in a little wave, I made sure to flash my wedding ring, calling him a jealous idiot without ever having to use words. Judging by the flat look he gave me, message received.
“No idea,” I answered Hames. “Why? Are your tree trunk leggies getting tired?”
Ryvan smirked; I elbowed him, giving Hames a genuine look. His expression didn’t twitch, didn’t lean one bit towards a smile or a laugh, the same grumpy look he’d had on his face all day. (Or all his life.) He did, however, slide the heavy pack off his shoulder.
“Hey, come on now, I said that with love.”
He held out my bag to me.
“You’re my favourite friend,” I continued, blinking up at him with big eyes. “I’ve always said so. Ryvan, tell him I’ve always said so.”
“Wow,” Ryvan drawled, stretching the word out. “I thought I was your best friend.”
I grunted when Hames dropped the bag onto my shoulder. I had about a minute of being able to carry this before it slid down my arms and off my bound hands. I scowled up at Hames. “Traitor.”
And because he’d betrayed me so grievously when all I did was pay his impressively large thighs a well-meaning compliment, when Cherish fell into step beside him, I gave him a pointed look.
Eyebrow arched, smirk on my face, eyes glinting, I hid nothing.
He scowled and looked away. Sweet, stupid, oblivious man.
I caught Kier looking back and pointedly glanced from him to Hames and Cherish walking side by side.
See, fool, you’re being jealous over nothing, he’s in love with Cherish, who is also in love with him, but they’re both too shy and afraid and oblivious to do anything about it.
Kier, who seemed to grasp most of it, flicked two fingers at me in a come hither motion.
“Goodbye, minions,” I said to my friends, quickening my step to be beside my husband. “It was fun spending time among the peons, but now I must rise above, as a princess of the realm—”
Aerona shot an acorn at my head with the catapult she’d been making all morning. It hit hard enough to make me yelp.
“Aerona,” Jakoda chided in a hiss.
“What?” the teenager asked, heavy on attitude. “I could have aimed at her back sweat but I chose to be generous.”
I ignored that.
“Or her boob sweat.”
Ignored that too.
“Or—”
I glanced back to find Jakoda’s hand over the girl’s blue mouth, and grinned. I tipped an imaginary hat at her and returned my attention to Kier.
“Give me that,” he murmured, taking my heavy bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “What is in this thing?” he grunted when its weight settled alongside his own.
“Food, the one knife you graciously allowed me to bring, more food, a book Calanthe gave me about the area that has a handy map in case we get lost, the dagger Rook snuck me when you weren’t paying attention, food—”
“What about the throwing star you took from Xiona’s belt?”
“Kier,” I hissed, shushing him. When Xiona glanced over, I gave her a big smile and a wave with my annoyingly bound hands. “Hi babe, missed you.”
Her response was to stare at me like she was fantasising about my murder. She missed me, too.
A dark, coiling emotion slid through me, and I peered up at Kier as we walked, intertwining my fingers with his (with difficulty.) “So jealous today, husband.”
He groaned softly. “Zaba, play fair.”
I batted my lashes, peering up at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, gripping tightly enough that it sent a pulse of delight through me. He held me in place as he leaned in to kiss me, just once, nice and chaste, suitable for polite company.
His lips grazed my ear as he pulled back. “Call me husband in that tone again, and I’ll push you up against the nearest tree and fuck you right here, in front of everyone, so they all know whose wife you are.”
I forgot how to breathe for a moment, staring dumbly as Kier pulled back with an infuriatingly calm expression and continued walking like he hadn’t made me hot and achy. Every step grazed my clit as it swelled, taunting, tormenting. I shot Kier a filthy glare.
He swept his thumb over my knuckles, his smile endlessly smug. Bastard.
“Rook, Talon,” he called, getting their attention. “Scout the path for a few minutes, see what’s ahead of us.”
Talon nodded, business-like, her long red braid whipping her leather jacket as she turned to say something to Rook. But the potioneer’s attention was already fixed ahead, and he tilted his head, squinting.
“No need,” he said after a moment. “The trees are thinning, and if I’m not mistaken, the forest is opening up. Letta, is that your lake?”
I quickened my pace, excitement and nerves unsteadily tangled in my belly. Kier kept up with me, and the others were right behind us, the anticipation tangible.
“Is it really Gaia’s grave?” Cherish murmured.
Like Rook said, the trees thinned then swept back entirely, parting to show the silver gleam of the lake from my vision. And right where I knew it would be, the hulking mausoleum with its gargoyles crouched on its roof and steps leading into the dark maw of an arch.
“Only one way to find out,” I replied to Cherish, and strode towards the water.