77. Tressa
Tressa sat on the sand on the beach, exhausted and in shock. She watched as Enna and Rorax’s unconscious bodies were both carted off by her team of healers.
She hadn’t believed her ears when a messenger came running, saying that the Death Lieutenant had demanded all available healers were to report to the beach.
Ayres wasn’t her boss, and she’d bristled at the command. Yet she had still come running.
Tressa only brought six of her healers to the Cracked Sea, and it had taken all of them to clear the squid’s poison from Enna and to stitch Rorax’s flesh back together from the deep shark bite in her side.
Rorax had risked her life again for a fellow Contestar and had survived without even a scar to show for it. The facts weren’t computing in Tressa”s head.
Rorax was a monster. A monster. But what kind of monster would risk herself to save her fellow Contestars? These were the people who would eventually cost Rorax her life if she didn’t find her way out.
Lily had died in the gilded shrine on the island. One of Majauss’s golden guards had bashed in her skull, and the resulting influx had saved Rorax’s life. The gods themselves chose to save Rorax today.
Tressa ground her teeth together and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her nails digging into the back of her arms.
Hate coated her tongue as she jerked her gaze to the waves in front of her. She hated herself, hated the Choosing, and most of all hated Rorax for how the flame of loathing in her chest had flickered and sputtered when she saw Rorax pull Enna through the water. Gods, she wished she was powerful enough to use her Mind Walker abilities, to be able to look through Rorax’s mind, see what she was really like.
She dug her nails into herself even deeper.
A pale, calloused hand reached down in front of her, and after a moment”s hesitation she took it, letting Ren pull her onto her feet.
He wrapped her up in his arms and pushed his face into the crook of her neck. “I can see every thought on your face right now,” he murmured. “Whatever you decide to do, I’m behind you.”
He pulled his face back from hers; the ocean in the background accentuated the copper tones of his unbelievably handsome beard and long hair.
Gods above, Ren was so beautiful.
Tressa nodded and pulled him into her again, needing his warmth. They stood that way for a long time, her wrapped up in his big arms, letting herself feel conflicted and angry down to her core.
The moment was ruined when footfalls in the sand made Tressa peel her eyes open.
Ayres approached with angry strides, and something about the way he moved or maybe the expression on his face triggered alarm bells in Tressa’s mind. Without thinking, she shot her hand out and clamped it around Ren’s wrist. She gave it a squeeze in warning.
She had never seen Ayres so angry before. Not at her.
Ren dropped his arms from around her and grabbed her hand, taking a half step forward, edging his way slightly in front of her and putting himself between them.
It made her chest feel warm. Even if in a real fight they would both be dead in seconds if Ayres wanted them to be.
Ayres’s silver stare nearly impaled Tressa. He stopped a couple of feet from them, and his eyes narrowed. “Were you the one who poisoned Rorax?”
Tressa’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No!”
The muscle in Ayres’s jaw flexed.
“It wasn’t us, Ayr,” Tressa insisted.
The reminder that Rorax had been poisoned and still chose to go back to drag Enna out of the water made the once reliable flame in her chest flicker again. Tressa grimaced.
Ayres’s silver eyes flicked back and forth between Tressa and Ren for a second before he nodded his acceptance. Something tight eased in Tressa’s chest.
Ren didn’t relax though. “Would it matter if we did? The plan all along has been that she dies, or she leaves, Ayres. She’s a Heilstorm. A Unit One Heilstorm. She has killed thousands. Gods above, Ayres. She even laid siege against your city. It’s not surprising someone wants her dead, and you were okay with that a couple of months ago.”
Tressa watched as the same conflict that was plaguing her flitted through Ayres’s eyes.
Ayres’s jaw clenched a few more times as he stared at Ren.
Ren and Ayres were the same height, but the power that radiated from Ayres, that dormant thing housed in Ayres’s bones, was enough to send a chill through Tressa. From the way Ren squeezed Tressa’s hand, she knew Ren felt it, too.
“I’ve changed my mind. She has the potential to help us,” Ayres finally answered, looking from Ren to her then back again. “No one touches her without my consent. No one lays a finger on that woman, or they answer to me.”
A little squeak escaped her lips before she could stop it, and Ayres’s heavy but thankfully silver gaze fell on her again. “Not one finger, Tressa. Not one scratch, not one bump, not so much as a fucking bruise. Not until I decide this is over. Do you understand?”
Tressa swallowed thickly, before nodding her head.
Ayres cracked his neck and took a step back.
Ren relaxed a bit, and Ayres must have noticed because something like guilt pinched at the corners of his mouth. He rubbed the back of his neck, rubbing at the tattoos there. He looked tired.
“Are you alright, Ayres?” she asked tentatively.
He nodded, dropping his hand back to his side. “I think so. I’m sorry. I’m just . . . angry. She was attacked and we don’t know who did it yet. She has me twisted into knots right now and I don’t know what to do.”
He swallowed, looking over to where Tressa’s healers had disappeared into the castle with Rorax’s unconscious body. “I will talk to you both tomorrow.”
Ayres turned and walked away, leaving her and Ren to gape at his back.
Ren blew out a breath, and rested his hands on his hips, watching his old friend walk away. “That is not good, Tress. Not good at all.”
Her eyebrows furrowed together as she kept her eyes on the retreating figure in front of them. “Why not?”
“Ayres talks about Rorax the same way I talk about you.”