Chapter 4
Ford
Well that was a new brand of anger. I’d gained a thorough education in the emotion over the past few hours. Learned how intricate it could be, how much that one word could capture.
And now, some panicked, haunting version of that red devil shot through my chest and down my arms like a firework.
The fuse had been lit the second Esme turned her back to me. Not even the rock she’d thrown at me had done it. That had almost made me smile.
Maybe the match had been struck when she’d shrieked that she didn’t have feelings for me. That felt…well, I didn’t find I liked it.
At the very least, I thought we’d achieved comfortable companionship over the years.
Apparently not.
That was the least of my concerns when she was damn near running away from me at a breakneck speed. That I certainly did not enjoy.
She had spent too long not speaking to me. She didn’t get to just run off whenever she wanted, leaving me with a million questions swirling in my head.
I tracked her, nearly on instinct. With most of our buildings felled, we didn’t have light to cut through the darkness anymore. Though Muli’s sky was scattered with brilliant stars, Esme was a but a dark, hazy figure in front of me.
Normally, I’d assume she was on her way to the cabin, but with that being a pile of ashes, we were in for a night in a tent.
Apart, I’d say. If she had it her way.
Not that the idea of sharing a tent with her when she had the temper of a feral rodent was all that appealing, but the thought of spending a night apart felt…
It felt.
That was what I was going with while my brain was refusing to catch up with my body.
“You might as well just start running,” I called ahead as Esme’s long legs carried her further and further away from me. I kind of hoped she would. She would learn quickly I was not above chasing her down.
A small scoff broke through the night, the only sign she heard me. That was the first of many little noises that left her lips while she moved through the line of tents that had formed down by the gushing river that curved through our camp.
The curt grunt was her asking one of the other captains where the extra tents were.
The rumbling growl was her response when he told her our tent had been set up at the far end of the line.
The soft murmur was her apologetic answer when he said that spot had been chosen so that Sky and Shadow could stay nearby without trampling someone.
By the time Esme took off and I passed the captain, I paused to clap a hand over his shoulder in thanks. Sky and Shadow had taken to treating me and Esme like we were the ones that needed to be taken care of, and that extended to watching over us while we slept.
I’d lost track of how many times I’d woken up to see one of their noses tapping the window of our cabin, checking for signs of life when we were five minutes off schedule.
The captain was right to put us at the end of the line, because our horses were already waiting for us. Sky was sniffing around the tent, clearly searching out Esme’s scent.
Shadow was tracking Esme’s approach, her midnight black eyes wide and glittering.
Well, I was chopped fucking liver apparently. Shadow had barely checked in on me since the fire.
“Ah, home sweet home,” I said when I finally caught up to her, my heart slamming against my chest from the exertion of keeping up with her pace and something else, something akin to panic.
Esme ignored me, going straight for Sky and running her hand down his nose, then moving her long, lithe fingers into his mane to brush through it. Her other hand blindly found Shadow to the side, giving her the same treatment.
Great, and now I was angry at my fucking horse. It felt like anger directed at your own child, and it made me feel even more like a sorry ass than I already did.
I blinked to clear the fog from my head, my eyes connecting with Sky’s as his narrowed on me, looking at me up and down in pointed judgment.
I’d spent years earning that horse’s trust, fighting against a skepticism and skittishness around me that had always seemed odd considering I was his mate’s bonded rider. Apparently all that work was flying out the window with the rest of my worldview.
I stared right on back, refusing to back down. He might have been bonded with Esme, but she was my fucking Soul Mate. He was second in line.
Woah.
The thought jumped forward so fast and with such force, it didn’t even feel like mine.
“Are we really doing this?” It took me a second to realize that Esme was, in fact, talking to me.
“Doing what?” I asked, even though I knew what she was asking. I understood what her grunts and grumbles meant, and she didn’t think I could read her meaning through a few, clipped words?
“Are. We. Sharing. This. Tent?” Esme bit out, each word punctuated with her anger.
As tents went, it was actually rather big—enough that we could both stretch out and leave ample room between us.
A small trickle of guilt curled through my lower stomach at the reminder of the special treatment we received for being paranimas.
Vir liked to spoil us, hoping that we would stay in service for the rest of our lives, whether that was on the front lines or by coming back to our planet and reminding everyone just how powerful we were.
How much more special than Muli, how we were stronger than the Goddess’s favored children.
I responded to Esme with a noncommittal grunt, testing her. As expected, she understood me perfectly, and just stomped past right me, picked up her bag, and swung open the flap to the tent with a grumble.
I stood for a moment, watching as she lit a gas lamp and her silhouette painted the canvas fabric.
A second later, I was bracing myself from a fall, my hands hitting the dirt so hard my wrists shook with the force.
I heaved in a breath, trying to wrap my head around what was happening.
The huffing I heard behind me only confirmed what had happened. Sky had fucking pushed me over.
I popped up, wiping my hands to turn around and scold him, threatening to withhold the treats I would sneak to him, only to find Shadow standing there.
My eyes bounced between my horse and Sky, trying to figure out which one of them had pushed me. Both beasts, standing over me despite my height, stared at me blankly, not a hint of the affection they should have held for me there.
“Are you serious? You’re taking her side?” I asked Shadow, shock evident in my voice. My jaw was so tight, the words barely made it out.
Neither responded, simply twisting their massive bodies around to investigate a cluster of flowers under a nearby tree. Sky flicked me in the face with his tail before he took off.
“Jokes on him,” I grumbled, watching as Sky nuzzled into his mate’s neck for a moment, “I can barely feel that side of my face.”
That fact was evidenced when I ran my hands down my face in frustration, the left side feeling distant and far away. My scar tingled, fighting for sensation, but also with distant memories.
Five years ago. Almost to the day, actually.
Five years since I’d been captured and tortured and, apparently, since Esme started taking those fucking pills.
I would deal with her reason for taking them later. Though the fact that it was the reason she was still alive made my hands curl into fists at my side.
I wasn’t an idiot—I knew that it had something to do with the fact that she’d rescued me. I remembered little about those days, the trauma blocking out chunks of my memory. It had left me in a haze for weeks after, the same haze that had bogged me down for the early days after I’d been drafted.
As horrible as that torture had been, at least it had been simple. By the time the stitches had been taken out and I realized I had more mobility and eyesight than expected, the relief and gratitude made the healing easier.
The pain I was still sorting through was from those early days.
From the memories of being seventeen and working my ass off trying to support my too-young sister after her boyfriend abandoned her with two kids.
Realizing that there was a way to offer her more stability, if only I enlisted—special unit, fast track to Muli.
Discovering that not only had I managed a Match that allowed me to travel across worlds, but that I was apparently an anomaly.
A treasured gift from the Goddess, someone who’s soul seemed worthy enough to find its twin in another.
I would never forget what it was like to blink away the blinding pain that had ripped through my body when the priestesses pulled out my Mark, my jaw slack as I looked in the mirror and found a snake curled around my entire body, from the back of my hand, around my shoulders, down my back and to my hip.
I’d barely heard them when they told me that my paranima would have the same one. I was hardly conscious over the next few days, my body feeling itchy and foreign, the Mark burning every time someone touched it.
And before I knew it, I was in a caravan into the desert with some general yapping in my ear about how she was waiting for me.
My eyes had just adjusted to the harsh desert sun, so different from the cloudy gray skies of the Deveraux islands where I’d grown up, when someone barked, “There she is!”
The entire room went silent, watching me like I was a skittish animal as I prepared to meet my Soul Mate.
Then she happened.
Esme had stepped out behind Peter, looking so small, even with her limbs long and her hair flowing.
I wasn’t sure what happened next, I nearly blacked out from the sheer terror that flooded my veins.
I remember thinking that she was going to get me fucking killed.
Either protecting her or because I failed to and followed her into death—that little side effect had been reiterated over and over in the seven hour drive to the Bridge.
Apparently, I’d said, “No. Not her.” I didn’t remember that part, but I remember Esme straightening, looking me up and down with carefully observant eyes.