Chapter Twenty-six
WILDER
M orning came sooner than Wilder would have liked, marked by the soft bell tolling from the heart of the camp.
There was a quiet rhythm to the place that he appreciated, though.
It reminded him of life at Thezmarr in his earlier days.
When life had consisted of meals at set times, training sessions and scrapping with his friends and brother. Things had been simpler then.
He made his way to the centre of the cavern, where several tables had been set up and Adrienne was already poring over several pieces of parchment, a deep crease in her brow.
Anya stood at her side, running her hands over her closely shaved head, looking impatient.
Anya always looked impatient, though; she reminded him of Thea in that respect – always wanting to move, always needing to go forward, as though a storm bit at her very heels.
They looked up at his approach.
‘If it isn’t the fallen Warsword himself,’ Anya said by way of greeting.
He shot her a warning look. She knew it hadn’t been easy for him to turn his back on the guild, even after seeing what Osiris had done to her. Even in jest, the comment still stung.
Adrienne slid a bowl of steaming porridge across the table to him. ‘When’s the last time you ate? Or slept? You look like shit.’
Wilder grunted. ‘Aren’t you both a delight to be around this morning.’
‘We do our best,’ Adrienne replied with a smirk.
Shaking his head in disdain, he picked up the bowl and lifted the spoon to his mouth – where it hung suspended as his eyes landed on Thea.
She was wearing his shirt.
And nothing else but her boots.
It was entirely possible his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t help it as he drank in the sight of her long, bare legs and the hint of her perfect body underneath that almost threadbare fabric.
As she reached the table, she raised a brow at him in challenge. ‘Your pants were too big.’
Adrienne’s head dropped back as she snorted, knocking over her own breakfast, porridge splattering across the parchment.
‘Charming,’ Anya told her, flicking a clump from her own clothing back onto Adrienne. Wilder had half a mind to toss his own breakfast at the Naarvian ranger for her lack of subtlety, but then, that would be hypocritical, wouldn’t it?
‘Problem?’ Thea asked, giving him a hard stare.
Wilder opened his mouth to make some sort of smart-arsed retort, but was saved by Adrienne, who got to her feet and looped her arm through Thea’s.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you some proper clothes before your Warsword over there pops that vein in his neck.’
Wilder hadn’t realised how tense he was, that he was clutching the side of the table so hard the timber was splintering beneath his grip as he watched them go.
Anya followed his gaze with a bemused expression. ‘Do you think they’re comparing notes?’ she quipped.
He shot her a filthy glare before seeking them out again.
The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.
The truth was, he didn’t think of Adrienne like that at all, no matter what had happened between them all that time ago.
She was his friend, nothing more, besides a pain in his arse.
She and Dratos made a fine match in that respect.
And yet Anya’s comment burrowed into his mind. Adrienne wouldn’t say anything to Thea, would she? Not when things were so fragile…
‘Thea and I… We spoke last night,’ Anya said. ‘Properly.’
Wilder didn’t hide his surprise. Anya was notoriously guarded. He hadn’t expected her to open up to Thea anytime soon, nor tell him about it, for that matter. ‘And?’
‘And it was hard.’ As was Anya’s voice, but he knew her well enough by now to understand that a lot of hurt and trauma lay beneath that granite exterior. ‘Hard to know the extent of what was taken from us. Hard to tell her. Hard for her to hear it, no doubt. It was all hard.’
‘Are you alright?’ he asked.
‘I’ve had years to come to terms with the truth. Thea’s had a few hours…’
Wilder’s chest caved. For all her rage and confusion, there would be a lot of grief for Thea now. He knew she’d be hurting, and no matter their issues, he couldn’t stomach the thought of that.
‘That’s not an answer,’ he said to Anya, not wanting her pain to be swept under the rug either.
‘It’s answer enough,’ she replied coolly.
Wilder let it lie, let the silence settle for a time.
There was a fine line between knowing when to push an Embervale sister, and when to stay quiet.
So he ate his porridge, which was now cold.
While he did, he continued to scan the camp for any sign of Thea and Adrienne, a kernel of discomfort unfurling in his gut as he let his mind drift to what they might be discussing.
Eventually, Anya made a noise of disgust at the back of her throat. ‘Fuck’s sake, Hawthorne. Go on, then. I’ll plan the fucking rebellion by myself. You’re no good to me like this anyway. Piss off.’
The supposed Daughter of Darkness practically chased him away from the table, and that was all the encouragement he needed to go striding across the campsite, scanning the rows of tents for the two women.
As he made his way towards his own tent, Adrienne emerged, pausing at the threshold to give his arm a squeeze. He frowned after her for a moment. What did that mean? Was it in support? Sympathy?
Wilder entered the tent to find Thea wearing pants and buttoning a fresh shirt, one that actually fit her. For a moment, all he could do was watch as she tucked her fate stone beneath the folds of fabric and belted Malik’s dagger at her waist.
‘It’s rude to stare,’ she commented, not looking up from her task.
‘I liked my shirt on you better,’ he said, voice low.
‘Funny way of showing it.’
Wilder continued to watch her, noting the hesitation in her movements, her reluctance to speak more than five words to him. She was tense, on edge.
‘Anya told me that you spoke…’ he ventured.
‘We did.’
‘Did it not go well?’
‘It went as well as a conversation between lost sisters raised as enemies can go. I… I think I like her.’
‘Then what is it? Did Adrienne say something to you?’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Thea still didn’t meet his gaze. ‘She said several things.’
‘Well, I’m talking about the one that made you look like that.’
It wasn’t anger in Thea’s eyes. It was sorrow on top of sorrow. He knew its look well, along with the regret that swept in in its wake.
Wilder went to her, her pain becoming his, feeling it deep in his chest. ‘Whatever she said —’
‘She said that long ago, she told her best friend about you…’
Wilder’s stomach dropped. Had he misread the friendly rapport between himself and the Naarvian general? They had ended things amicably, hadn’t they? Or had he hurt her without realising? His thoughts began to spiral. For Adrienne to speak to Drue about him —
Thea took a breath. ‘She told her best friend that you would need a warrior fiercer than her to withstand the force of you. Then she told me that I am that warrior, that you found that strength in me. She told me not to let you down.’
Everything in Wilder softened. ‘Thea…’ he breathed.
Her eyes were brimming with tears as her gaze darted around the tent.
‘But I did let you down. I was so stupid, refusing to question what was right in front of me, letting blind loyalty rule my actions, believing the worst of you when I know better. I put you in that dungeon. I put you in harm’s way. And I almost —’
Wilder leant in, tucking her hair behind her ears and touching his forehead to hers. ‘Look at me, Thea…’ he said quietly. He had been so deeply hurt by her – hurt that his love hadn’t been enough to earn her trust, her faith in him, but… he couldn’t stand her pain. He couldn’t bear it.
At last, she raised her head, meeting the intensity of his stare.
He cupped her face, his thumbs stroking the contour of her cheekbones. ‘What do you need, Princess?’
Thea made a noise that could have been a whimper, her hands rising to rest on his forearms. Raw grief was written all over her face.
He should have known that there would be a breaking point, that any one of the revelations Thea had experienced would be enough to overcome a regular person.
Thea had taken each one in her stride, and now they had piled up, the weight becoming too great.
Adrienne’s words, however kindly meant, had been the final straw.
He saw how her guilt compounded, lining her gaze with tears.
Wilder ran his fingers along the sharp line of her jaw. ‘Tell me what you need,’ he said again.
‘You,’ she told him. ‘It’s always been you.’
He felt himself cave. He could no longer deny her that.
There was no telling who moved first. They came together passionately, violently, in a tangle of limbs, their kiss hard enough to bruise.
Gods, her mouth . Wilder moaned against her lips as she opened for him and allowed his tongue to brush hers. That alone sent a frisson of need straight to his cock.
Thea melted into him and he into her as he grasped a handful of her hair and tipped her head back so he could worship her more thoroughly.
She met every kiss with a demanding one of her own, the strokes of her wicked tongue matching his, deepening the longing unfurling between them, an attempt to wash all the hurt away.
‘I want you,’ Thea breathed, clawing at his clothes. ‘I want you so badly.’
Wilder fused his mouth to hers, regretting nothing but the time he had spent not kissing her. For every moment he wasn’t doing this was a moment wasted. He ran his fingers down her delicate throat, feeling her pulse fluttering beneath her skin, her softness so intoxicating he was drunk on her.
He was desperate to slide his cock inside her, desperate to feel her clamped around the length of him, but her muffled cries from their deep kisses alone made him want to draw this out.
He wanted to make her beg, to sob with the need for him, to drive her so mad with desire that she’d never let him go again.
Thea’s hands were all over him, raking down his back, tugging at his shirt, but he batted her attempts away and backed her up against the support post in the centre of the tent. He would have her his way first.
There, he slid his hand down the front of her pants. Thea’s breathing hitched and Wilder broke their kiss to watch her face as he dragged a finger down her centre, through the wet heat he found there.
Thea’s head tipped back, a flush spreading from her cheeks to the tops of her heaving breasts.
Furies, he wanted her naked. He wanted to lick and suck every inch of her and then he wanted to fuck her so hard she couldn’t walk straight.
But now was not the time. Right now, it was about her and her alone.
A strangled cry escaped her as he circled her clit.
In slow, luxurious strokes, he teased her until she was writhing beneath his hold.
She reached for his belt, but he caught her by the wrist and trapped both her hands above her head while he continued his taunting touches.
An echo of their first time together in the Bloodwoods.
She arched her hips towards him and he chose that moment to slide a finger inside her, biting back a moan of his own as with the motion he imagined burying himself in that tight heat.
‘Holy Furies,’ Thea panted, her eyes wide, her mouth open as he began to fuck her with his finger slow and hard, adding another and circling her clit again with his thumb.
She cried out loudly, spreading her legs wide for him.
Wilder had never been more aroused in his fucking life. His cock was nearly bursting from his pants, the tip damp with need, his balls aching.
‘You’re going to come for me, Thea,’ he told her, his voice thick with lust, curling his fingers inside her until she was half sobbing. ‘You’re going to come hard .’
They were both still fully clothed, with just his hand down the front of her pants, but gods, it turned him feral. His control was slipping second by second, his own desire pulsing through him, a force of its own, only intensifying as Thea became wetter and tighter around his fingers.
‘Thea…’ he warned, about what, he wasn’t sure anymore. He was lost in her.
‘Wilder, I —’
Thea’s whole body tensed, and her eyes locked on his as a moan broke free from her lips. She shuddered as her climax hit. Wilder took her over and over, dragging every wave of her orgasm from her with primal satisfaction until she was shaking beneath him.
He was playing with fire when it came to Thea. He’d known it from the moment he’d first seen her, but this…
Still watching her, he slid his fingers from her body, revelling in the raw hunger in her face as he brought those fingers to his mouth and sucked on them.
Her eyes grew wide as he groaned at the taste of her, his cock pulsing against his pants.
‘You want to know what you taste like?’ he growled.
Slowly, Thea nodded.
Wilder lunged for her, kissing her savagely before he pulled back, breathless. ‘You taste like you belong to me. You always have.’
Thea was staring at him as though seeing him for the first time. Her eyes smouldered with longing, her hands breaking free from his grasp at last, pulling at his belt.
He stopped her, a smile tugging at his lips. ‘I believe we have a war to plan… The others are waiting. Not so patiently by now, I imagine.’
Her eyes narrowed as she tugged him closer. ‘We have unfinished business, you and I,’ she told him, the very words he’d once spoken to her in the Bloodwoods of Thezmarr before everything had changed between them.
He kissed her again, lingering in her space, relishing the warmth of her and the intensity of what raged in her eyes. ‘That we do,’ he said.
Wilder gave her a moment to gather herself, hiding his amusement at the muscle that twitched in her jaw. He’d gotten under her skin, and that was exactly where he intended to stay.
When she was decent, he laced his fingers through hers, savouring the simple act of intimacy. ‘To battle we go, Princess.’