Chapter 54
“Another.”
Perry nodded and reached behind the counter, filling me another cold stein of ale. I took a few big gulps and let out a long sigh.
“I’ve been coming to the Ryfthouse for a while now, and yet I’ve never seen you here.”
I saw Nash claim the barstool next to me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t look at him. I kept my gaze ahead. “I’m only here on special occasions.”
Nash ordered an ale from Perry. “And what kind of special occasion earns your presence?”
I lifted the stein, downed half of it in one go, and set it back on the bar with a hard thunk. “I don’t think our friendship has clearance for that answer.”
“Oh, so we’re friends?”
I cut my eyes at him. His expression of mock shock almost made me laugh. “Hardly.”
“Can we be friends?”
“Acquaintances.”
“War partners?”
“Strangers.”
“Strangers with benefits?”
I couldn’t help the laugh this time. “I’ll think about it.”
“Ah, Fitzroy. Ever the romantic.”
A high-pitched laugh cut through the music, and Nash and I both turned to see where it came from.
My heart thudded at the sight of Pehper and Shayde talking in the back corner.
Shayde was leaning against the wall, hands stuffed in his pockets, while Pehper shifted from foot to foot, sipping a colorful drink.
She was smiling. Laughing. Her cheeks flushed.
And I wanted to bash her head in.
“Rekindled love, it seems,” Nash drawled, brows raised as he turned back to his ale. My face must have betrayed me, because he added, “Yep. They used to date before Wylder left for Mageia.”
My head whipped back to Shayde and Pehper. Anger boiled the water element in my veins. He was staring at the ground, nodding along to whatever the fuck she was rambling about. Then his gaze flicked up—to Cleo, who was swaying to the music with Tatum Sinclair.
And then his warm brown eyes landed on mine. My heart stopped.
I could still feel the heat of his touch on my skin. His tongue clashing with mine. His breath against my neck. That night in the cabin, he’d looked at me like he wanted to devour me. Now, his look was pure yearning.
But he broke it. Pushed off the wall and turned down the back hallway.
As if that would be enough.
Because the moment shattered—but the pull remained.
I barely registered Nash’s voice behind me.
My grip tightened on the mug before I shoved it into his hands and slipped from the bar without a backward glance.
The press of bodies and the pulse of music blurred together as I shouldered my way through the thrall of dancers, heading for the dim hallway that led to the back deck.
I reached for the exit, fingertips brushing the door, when a hand caught my wrist. In the next breath, I was yanked sideways, dragged into the shadowed corner. My back hit the wall, breath stolen, and the world narrowed to the figure pinning me there.
The sharp, citrusy bite of bergamot hit me first, chasing away any thought that this was a captor.
I didn’t fight. I let him cage me in. Shayde Wylder’s grip slid up my arms until my wrists were trapped above my head, his body pinning mine to the wall, his legs braced to hold me there.
I let myself sink into the snare of him—knowing full well it was a trap I’d never escape.
“Either you need to work on your self-defense,” Shayde murmured, “or you don’t hate me as much as you say you do.”
I tilted my chin up, our mouths only inches apart. Shadows wrapped around us, cloaking everything but the faintest sliver of light—just enough to catch the angles of his face.
“Ever heard the term ‘keep your friends close and enemies closer?’”
Shayde smiled wearily. “There’s nothing you could do to make me your enemy, Fitzroy.”
I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth—so devastatingly close. He’d changed into a simple long-sleeved tunic and clean breeches. The weapons were gone. No tungsten choker around his neck. The completion of our mission had bought him just enough trust from the Hollow.
“And what if I break the neck of your pretty little friend?”
His brows shot up. His mouth parted as he weighed my words. I twisted against his grip, testing him. He only tightened his hold, reminding me he knew I could break free if I truly wanted. His surprise faded into a wolfish grin.
“And what if I do the same to yours?”
I froze. He went still too, watching me. “You don’t think I’ve noticed you and Salvitto?”
My chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, almost brushing his. Shayde stepped closer until there was no space left at all, his hips pinning me. My eyelids threatened to flutter at the pressure, but I forced them to stay open, locked on his.
“Does he make your heart race like I do?”
A sharp, deliberate pressure snaked up my thigh. His air element, slick and invisible, pressed between my legs in a calculated caress. I let out a strangled noise, my head knocking back against the wall. My eyes squeezed shut, betrayal in every flicker of pleasure building in my core.
“Does he pull those precious little sounds from you?”
He channeled air to tease me again, the pressure sliding between my legs.
This time, he leaned in closer, his mouth hovering over mine.
His lips parted, inviting me in. I took the bait—and felt the sting of humiliation when he pulled back just as quickly, a heated, knowing grin spreading across his face.
“Don’t forget,” he rasped, voice dark and gravelly, sending another shiver through me. “I could hate you with my eyes closed.” He let the air pulse against me one last time, sharp and taunting. “Consider yourself warmed up for him. See if he can take it from here.”
I didn’t even need to fight him off—he stepped back on his own. Cold air rushed in where his heat had been. I shoved at his chest anyway as I pushed past him.
“I don’t need to see your face to know how much you want me,” he called after me.
The main area of Hollow Summit pulsed with urgency.
Families darted through the crowd, fastening cloaks and pressing final kisses to their loved ones’ cheeks.
Warriors stalked the edges, checking and rechecking weapons and supplies with grim determination.
Horses tossed their heads and pawed at the cobblestones.
The whole place felt like a heartbeat quickening before battle.
The chaos soothed me.
Rhodes and Scarlet were nearly finished reading through the first journal. She’d offered to let me review it myself, but I’d been channeling through her memories with our marekem to keep up with everything they’d deciphered.
Everything they uncovered so far centered on the princess’s state of mind as she wrote those journals.
The world she described felt like pure fantasy.
She wrote of her kingdom and its magic in ways I had never seen or heard before.
The one detail I couldn’t shake was the way she talked about their source—because the way she described it was unsettlingly similar to how we talk about the Mareki.
I had just picked up my fresh set of leathers for the road when Nash slipped out of the alley beside me.
“You disappeared on me earlier, Fitzroy. Was it something I said?”
I scoffed over my shoulder as I pushed through the crowd of villagers. He kept close behind me, his height giving him an unfair advantage in weaving through the chaos.
I’d just come from Father’s station with the news that Shayde would accompany our legion to Mageia.
Thanks to the training he and Rhodes received in the Shadow Glade, they both passed General Fitzroy’s assessment.
They were the only two from Scarlet’s crew with the qualifications to join the force.
The rest would remain here, behind the Hollow’s wards.
I was nearly at my hut when I spotted Scarlet, Rhodes, and Shayde coming around the corner. My heart kicked in my chest. My grip tightened around the leathers in my arms.
Nash was rambling about something beside me, but his voice blurred into nothing. I waited just long enough for Shayde’s brown eyes to find mine—then spun around and launched myself into Nash’s arms.
He blinked wide-eyed as he caught me, opening his arms in surprise. I grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him close.
“I need a favor,” I hissed.
His mouth twitched into a crooked grin. “Yes?”
I steadied my voice. “I need to use you.”
Scarlet was chatting with Tatum as they drew closer, but I didn’t look away from Nash’s face.
His eyes flicked past me to the approaching group before settling on mine. “In what way?”
“An acquaintances type of way.”
He raised a brow. “Acquaintances with… benefits?”
I shook the fist gripping his collar. “Nash!”
My pulse thundered. He chuckled, leaning in, his smile bright. “Do your worst,” he murmured.
In a flash, I had his back pressed against my hut’s door. I slid between his legs, tilting my head up with a mock-lover’s grin. Scarlet’s surprise rang through the marekem and I shot a brief look over my shoulder at them before turning back and fumbling for my key. I shoved Nash inside.
The door slammed shut behind us as I pushed him back against it.
“Ouch. I’m delicate, you know,” he feigned mock innocence.
“Shut up and act like you’re getting lucky,” I whisper-yelled.
His cheeks puffed as he tried to stifle a laugh. I channeled the marekem again, counting how many more steps until Scarlet and her crew would pass my hut.
The moment their footsteps passed my door, I started faking breathy, intimate sounds. Nash caught on immediately, joining in. We pressed our faces against the door, trading exaggerated moans and sloppy kissing noises.
I was fighting back laughter, trying to stay serious, when Nash suddenly shouted, “Oh, Fallon. Your slippery wet folds!”
My palm slapped over his mouth. “Why would you say that!” I hissed.
His eyes went wide. He mumbled something unintelligible against my hand. I rolled my eyes and yanked my hand away. “Seriously. Who says that?”
Nash shrugged. “I was trying to be dirty.”
I groaned and then forced out another fake moan. “And does that kind of dirty talk actually work for you?”
Nash made some comically heavy-breathing sounds. “If I had to use my dirty talk on you, we wouldn’t be pretending right now.”
This time my palm slammed over my own face. I groaned.
“Good one,” he whispered, then went right back to his theatrical panting.