Chapter 41
Emrys
I was certain I wouldn’t sleep that night. My nerves were frayed, my thoughts consumed by Isca’s sudden entrance. And yet, something about being near her had calmed the storm inside me.
Not just her magic. Her.
In my mind, her presence was now inexplicably intertwined with the scent of lavender, with that moment on the battlefield when I decided finally to leave the Assembly’s war behind.
Now I was trotting toward war again. Though this time a sense of restraint, but not quite control, had settled over me thanks to her.
Even so, I hated that I’d told her the truth.
That I’d agreed to stop pushing her away.
My weakness endangered her. How could I have been so careless in making that promise?
Experience showed it would only lead to catastrophe.
Yet, she’d said that I was good for her. I was still in disbelief, struggling to accept it, while simultaneously hating myself for doubting her. At times like this, the internal war between my two sides was unbearable.
That was why I’d gulped down her magic like a man dying of thirst.
Now the monster inside was too quiet. Biding its time until it could remind me that the bit of peace it had permitted me would come at a hefty price. And from the way things had been going with it recently, it would wait until she was close to try to sink its claws in.
The dividing line between its wishes and mine had blurred. Was it Emrys or the monster whose feet kept pointing in her direction? Was it me or the curse that wanted to rip open her tent, press my face to her throat, and breathe her in until morning?
Probably both of us.
Any agreement I had with the darkness living inside my skin was terrifying.
I glanced back across the camp as we packed up and saw her laughing at something Catrin had said.
Seeing them together, I was almost overwhelmed by the gravity of what I had allowed.
Neither of them belonged out here with war horses and men sharpening blades.
Isca belonged in comfortable stone halls, ruling with wit and magic and that damned stubborn fire behind her eyes.
I’d kept her too close. And somehow, still not close enough.
Mine. I wanted her to be mine.
She was less enthusiastic about speaking to me during the ride after I’d stationed two additional guards on her protection ring. And then another four just to walk her to the stream because we were getting uncomfortably close to the border.
I’d wanted to keep her safe. But even a less intelligent man could see that in doing so, I’d made her feel caged.
Yet I still couldn’t quite dredge up any guilt for that—even if I was being excessive.
We set up camp again late that afternoon. Our rapid northward progress, especially impressive for a group of our size, meant we’d arrive within two days. I was greeting a courier when I spotted Isca slipping out of the small copse of trees behind the camp alone.
None of her guards were in sight. I thought my chest might split open from too many conflicting emotions rattling within me at once.
Then a flash of metal and an unnatural shade of blue appeared behind her in the tree line as the underbrush swayed. It was my worst nightmare, come to life.
The curse surged. My body followed.
I sprinted, pumping magic into my muscles to hasten my progress. Couldn’t risk using destructive magic near her. The fear that consumed me would make any attack I volleyed far more powerful than the carefully controlled precision I needed to keep her safe.
I had faster ways of getting there, but those would make me lose sight of my quarry and risk missing. I saw a flash of tan skin. A hand reaching toward her. Confirmation that I was making the right call.
Voices called out to me, but I streaked past them, unsheathing my sword.
She screamed, “Emrys!”
Hearing my unadorned name from her lips shattered my concentration completely. But I wasn’t alone in my body. The curse surged forward with only one aim: death.
With the force of a boulder thundering down a mountainside, I stormed into the tree line. “You dare touch her.” Even my growl came out warped.
I barely had time to register the design on the man’s tunic before my sword met his flesh in a deadly arc. My steel emerged red on the other side. The same color as my thoughts.
Another burst of magic slowed my momentum and spin. My breath came heavy. I sensed no other threats.
I stalked toward the mess I’d made. What I saw confirmed my fears. My blade had entered through his mouth and burst from the crown of his skull, silencing him forever in a spray of blood and bone. A single blow had prevented our secrets from being revealed, but that same blow had also silenced him.
Cursed gods. The monster had ruined yet another chance of gaining much-needed information.
Trembling with the monster’s desire for more violence, always more destruction, I barely restrained myself from hacking the Gelidian scout’s body into tiny pieces right there in front of her. I flicked the blood off my sword and re-sheathed it.
Five stormy steps later, I was picking Isca up.
I was so crazed with worry that I didn’t pause or stop to ask permission.
I lifted her into the air and threw her over my shoulder.
The camp was silent except for the rustling of canvas and the small, startled squeak that escaped her lips.
She offered no resistance as she relaxed over my shoulder.
“Search the body!” I roared. A crack spread through the earth five paces from where I stood. I had to channel the magic overwhelming me somewhere.
Only the sound of booted feet running to do my bidding kept me from more bloodshed.
With Isca still sedately slung over one shoulder, I strode into my tent. The moment we were out of sight, two small fists connected with my back.
“Put me down, Prince Emrys!”
I was still trembling, but something about crossing that threshold had restored a degree of clarity to my thoughts.
Some of the dark magic brimming within me dissipated into the air as I summoned a ward of silence around our tent.
After my senseless display—throwing her over my shoulder and walking her through the camp—there would be more than enough rumors flying around.
I gently leaned forward, letting her weight shift down my body until she found her feet. The horror of what I’d done struck me when I saw her disarray. Her pristine dress was now marred by crimson stains and flecks of fatty brain tissue.
“You left without a guard,” I said, my voice harsher than I’d intended, mouth moving without an ounce of thought. “Where was Catrin?”
“Preparing things in our tent!” Isca turned on me, angrier than I’d ever seen her. “I went to relieve myself. The guards were hovering like nursemaids.”
“They were meant to hover.”
“Well, they hovered right into the woods with me all day yesterday. I wanted five minutes of peace. Gods, you’re—”
That snarl I’d heard for the first time amongst the reeds was back in her voice. It made me want to bend, but in this, I couldn’t.
“You can’t just disappear,” I snapped. But my voice cracked under the strain, hating that I’d startled her. “Not out here. I don’t do this to be cruel, Isca.”
“I understand now. Only you can disappear!”
“Yes!” My fingertips tingled with barely restrained destruction triggered by the enemy’s incursion, by my swelling guilt. I fought it, but the curse was rising like a tide, wild and ready to feed. Even my vision swam with blue lights. “I know it’s not fair, Isca.”
In my pique, I accidentally lowered my mental walls, leaving me exposed. She sensed it immediately. Her face shifted. I expected her to back away, to recoil from the overwhelming torrent that was crushing me, but instead, she reached for me.
Soft, warm hands reached for my scarred flesh. Her magic flowed over mine like cool water cascading over a bed of glowing red embers. And I…I pulled her into me.
It wasn’t thought. Wasn’t choice. My body moved before my mind could argue to keep her away. My arms wrapped around her tightly, with all the desperation that being faced with her loss had wrought. I needed her warmth to fight the icy dread that threatened to consume me.
Her breath caught then she melted into me.
Isca’s hair had half fallen out of its braid, waves cascading loose over her shoulders and down her back. I buried my face in it and breathed deeply. Lavender. That damned scent. I wanted to crush her closer.
I wanted to drop to my knees and beg her never to leave my side.
“I’m sorry for leaving before,” I choked out, breaths puffing as I spoke into her soft hair.
I sensed the monster’s relaxation, almost heard its purr, as it settled comfortably in its lair of human flesh. And I surrendered, body and soul, to this small woman who was somehow large enough to conquer everyone who met her.
“I don’t understand this. It’s been terrified of you since we met. But now…”
Now I feared losing her more than losing control. A beast with something to lose was too dangerous.
“Now, it wants you close. Too close.” I pulled back slightly, just enough to see her eyes. Trying to make her understand that I still wasn’t safe.
“Good thing I don’t mind being close,” she whispered, cleanly slicing away another argument I’d concoct later to convince myself I should put more distance between us. “And I don’t mind the curse either.”
It was everything I feared and hoped for in equal measure. Her profound compassion and her patience were so freely given.
“I can’t lose you,” I rasped.
Logic warned that I should push her away again, that I’d only hurt her like I hurt everyone around me. But I was weary of fighting every second of every day, even in my sleep.
“I’m not going anywhere…except maybe to the river to wash.” She chuckled.
The thought of her bathing filled my mind with images that lit a different type of fire in my chest.
I let go of her, putting space between us before the beast got any more ideas about possession. I looked down at the mess I’d made of myself as well.
“Catrin!” I shouted. “Bring towels and soap. We’re going to the river. Now!”
Isca’s eyebrows reached into her hairline. “We?”
“If you think I’ll be letting you out of my reach or a ring of guards for one second, you’re mistaken,” I growled. “The man I killed was a scout. His death won’t start a war, but it does mean that you’re vulnerable.”
It meant that they were looking for weaknesses. It meant that they’d found my greatest one and might try for her again.
Isca huffed out a frustrated breath.
“You can walk into the river with your clothing on. The towel is for your dignity in leaving it.”
“Wonderful.” Her tone was sarcastic.
More like wonderful torture.
The agony of knowing she’d be undressing nearby, but out of sight and reach, felt like it might kill me.
Still, I’d endure it a thousand times to know that she’d be safe.