Chapter Forty-Six #2
We settle into a steady rhythm of drinking ale from full tankards, roasted meats filling our bellies, and conversation that reminds me that the world exists beyond our plans—that life doesn’t stop because injustice exists.
Kael’s fingers entwine with mine under the table, and I relish his affection; his claim.
The scrape of a chair dragging across the floor interrupts the moment, and Rubi sidles between Kael and me, chair clanging to a stop, and plonks down, disheveled and unhinged.
“The entire pleasure parlor heard your affections, so don’t bring that shit to the bar.
Okay?” she bites, staring at our clasped hands, wild hair falling over her face, her glass tonics clinking together at her belt.
Kael chuckles rough and low. “Didn’t know you had such delicate sensibilities, Rubes.”
She sucks down a long pull on her tankard, slams it down on the table, then waves us toward her, as if coming in for a secret. “There is quite literally nothing delicate about me whatsoever. I do, however, have a plan,” she whispers conspiratorially.
I lean in a little closer, intrigue getting the better of me.
But Kael, he throws his hands in the air. “I’m out. As your king, I don’t want to know. As your friend, I look forward to the spectacle,” he announces quietly. Apparently he knows what this is about.
He walks away muttering under his breath about getting another drink.
But Rubi pulls me close. She unhooks the leather pouch at her belt, uncinches it, and reveals a handful of dried herbs.
I look around, searching for prying eyes. “What exactly are they?”
Her voice drops low, her eyes narrowing. “Crow’s Hood,” she whispers.
“And?” I push.
“These are the ones that made Teddy strip naked and act like a duskprowler,” she giggles, barely able to stifle the laugh lodged in her throat.
“Well, I don’t fucking want them. Put them away, Rubes!” I admonish.
“Not you, El. Teddy! He needs to loosen up. He’s all ‘war awaits us’ and ‘sound strategy saves lives,’” she pitches her voice low in mimicry. “The man needs to let go. Have a bit of fun. Let loose and enjoy the music!”
I fight a smile at her impression of Therion. “You cannot drug your own brother, Rubi,” I warn through a suppressed smile.
She waves a hand dismissively. “I can drug my brother. I probably shouldn’t drug my brother. But there’s a difference, no matter how small,” she rebuts.
I shake my head, disbelieving.
“It’ll be entertaining—you’ll see,” she explains, her mind already made up.
She crushes and grinds a small amount of the Crow’s Hood between her fingers, and before I’ve even registered what she’s doing, she rises to her feet, wraps her arm around Therion’s shoulder, while using her other arm to sprinkle a fine layer of the powdered mushrooms in his ale.
She whispers something to him that makes him smile, then returns to her seat next to me, with Therion none the wiser.
“Aren’t you meant to heal people? Not be the reason they need a healer?” I ask, my lips losing the battle with my smile.
“I can do both, El—multidisciplinary, some may say,” she explains flippantly, and I drag my hand down my face.
Kael takes his seat again, and he leans in to Rubi. “I suppose I should be ready for the performance?” he asks. Apparently her antics are common—expected, perhaps.
Should I avert my gaze? I ask Kael through the tether, amusement heavy in my tone.
I never want you to look at another man again, El, but this? This is an exception. He returns my amusement.
I watch Therion, waiting for… something to happen. I’m not exactly sure what, but something.
The fiddle playing in the corner increases its cadence. A song that inspires people to dance with vigor.
Therion’s shoulders begin to sway with the beat. Increasing in speed in time with the fiddle.
I’ve never seen Therion so much as notice music, let alone move to it. Something is definitely happening.
He jerks, standing bolt upright, moving his shoulders in sharp rhythm.
Oh gods.
Whatever she’s done, it’s working.
“Is anyone else hot in here?” Therion asks, already removing his armor.
“Therion, what are you doing?” Seren asks, looking around confused.
Her eyes land on Kael, but he’s lost to it—his mouth pressed in a thin line, desperately trying to tamp down the hysterical laughter I can feel through the tether like a dam about to burst.
“What have you done?” she asks, furious.
Kael shakes his head. “It wasn’t me,” he chuckles, low and clear.
“Best to just sit back and enjoy the show, Seri,” Jax quips, her ankles crossed on Ronyn’s lap.
Therion unlaces his tunic, slipping it off over his head before his broad chest and shoulders glisten with sweat under the lanterns.
Seren’s eyes rake over his body, taking every inch of him in. And I have to admit, I’m staring, too.
“I said watch, not ogle, El,” Kael whispers in my ear, and my cheeks blaze with heat. Mortified.
But it’s Ronyn who cuts through the moment. “Ah, I don’t know what’s happening, but I like this Therion.”
Therion’s bare torso rolls and shakes, moves and glides as he dances across the stone floor toward the fiddle. Sweat slicks his skin, and his arms raise above his head in euphoria.
“What is happening?” Seren demands, brows furrowed.
“Don’t look at me, kid,” Jax says. “Ask Rubi.”
Seren’s furious gaze lands on Rubi, but Therion’s arm loops around her, pulling her up from her chair and into his bare chest.
She sucks in a frazzled gasp.
“Go get ‘em, Teddy!” Rubi hollers, taking a frenzied gulp from her tankard, enjoying the show.
Therion spins Seren around, and faces the table where we sit, mesmerized by the spectacle. “You know,” he says, voice fast and chaotic, “I like it when you call me Teddy. You should all do it. Teddy. Teddy Ashborne. Has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
I laugh. I can’t help it. I can’t contain it. I laugh, loud and uninhibited.
I would cut down armies for that laugh, Kael admits down the tether, and I blush under his adoration.
But it’s Therion—Teddy—who holds my attention.
He spins and twirls, sways and whirls. His hips gyrate and grind to the fiddle, and Seren’s eyes blow wide as his face nuzzles into her neck.
“Not here, Teddy,” she admonishes.
Her hands fly up, as if to shove him away, but the music shifts and the whole room stomps and claps in time. Chants for Teddy dancing on the air. Her lips part, indecision flashing across her face. For half a heartbeat she looks like she’ll bolt. Then—her eyes spark with something reckless.
“Oh, fuck it,” Seren mutters, and to everyone’s shock she tugs her own cloak free, tossing it aside with a flourish. Her tunic follows, leaving her top half in only her thin shift, the fabric clinging to her breasts as she kicks her boots off into the crowd.
The crowd erupts as she grabs Therion’s hand and spins into him, her laughter spilling loose and wild.
For the first time since I’ve known her, she isn’t just enduring—she’s alive, glowing, reckless.
She matches him step for step, hips swaying with his, hair whipping as he lifts her in a dizzy twirl.
I spin my gaze to Rubi, a winning glint in her eyes. “You’re welcome,” she says without looking at me.
“Thank you,” I breathe, because despite the deception, their joy is infectious.
Ronyn presses to stand, hand outstretched to Jax. “I am enjoying the concept of removing clothes. Keep that in mind, would you?”
She swats at his arm playfully, but she grabs his hand to dance.
“As far as variations of Therion go, there’s uptight Therion, and loose Teddy—I much prefer the latter,” Ronyn admits, before leading Jax into the open space.
But my eyes fall on Kael’s—soft, thoughtful, and I know he’s somewhere else. Thinking of war, duty, priorities. Something other than the beauty before us.
Where did you go? I ask down the tether.
He closes his eyes for a heartbeat, breathing deeply. I was etching this into my memory—because this is why we need to take back Aevryn. To protect the peace of those we love most.
He’s thinking like a king. Not just a friend. Not a lover. But the leader of a nation he’s sworn to protect.
And in a heartbeat, the thought sobers me, because so am I.
Like a blade to the ribs, I realize that joy is fleeting, and war still looms.