Chapter Thirty #2
The drinks flow freely, and the food never stops coming.
Jax has kept one eye on the patrons inside the tavern and one on me for the entirety of the night.
She clearly distrusts me, but I can’t say I’m overly trusting of her, either.
My greatest weapon has always been my keen perception, and I’ve applied it thoroughly to Jax.
She is dressed in fighting leathers that are well worn and carries a fine blade, bejeweled at the hilt, and despite her imposing beauty, she looks tired.
The kind of tired that wears on you from a life without comforts, and inherent safety.
Jax mentioned having waited for Kael, which makes me think she’s been here, or somewhere nearby, holed up with little of life’s luxuries for a while.
But the way she is churning through her ale with little effect on her senses and speech, she seems to be no stranger to a drink.
Jax is built like a warrior, and she moves, speaks and watches like one, too. Never missing a thing.
Whenever she does steal her eyes away from the tavern, and settles into the steady rhythm of conversation amongst our group, she seems at home.
She has an obvious lighthearted and mutually respectful relationship with Merrik, and she has a somewhat personal, or dare I say, intimate relationship with Kael, which makes me grind my teeth.
I am aware that I have absolutely no claim on this man whatsoever, and in fact, it would be incredibly irresponsible to act on any desire I feel for him.
Still, I can’t help the simmering fury that bubbles away in my chest at the sight of her grazing his chest plate and resting her hand on his knee.
I watch him. His dark hair tousled by travel and rain hangs across his forehead, shadowing the sharp lines of his face.
His eyes flick up to me as Jax drifts her hand down his arm, again, and his eyebrow quirks up in silent amusement at whatever he must see written all over my face or in my body language.
I huff at him and roll my eyes, crossing my arms—very mature—and turn towards Merrik for what he has proven will be a fun, engaging and cheeky conversation.
Merrik begins to regale me with tales of past battles and tells me of those he fought by Kael’s father’s side.
I prompt him for details and specifics, but he is masterful in his evasion, so I settle for what he is willing to tell me.
He waxes lyrical of pranks and jokes the warriors played on each other, and that he has taken it upon himself to uphold this wherever he goes and whoever he fights alongside.
“Nothing bonds people together like laughter and shared memories,” he says.
My gaze drifts up as I listen and I catch the eye of a handsome gentleman at the bar.
He nods at me and throws me an unfairly charming smile.
I look over to Kael, and he is engrossed in a conversation with Jax, their eyes locked on one another.
In a fit of frustration, I make a decision.
I interrupt Merrik’s tales, “Merrik, excuse me. I’m so sorry to interject, but I need to use the privy. Can we pick this conversation back up in a moment?”
“Of course, darlin’. I’ve been waffling all night! It’s out the back past the bar, love.”
I get up from our table, and make my way towards the bar and the handsome man who smiled at me.
“Good evening,” I say in my most sensuous tone, before realizing that I am absolutely filthy and haven’t bathed in days, and I’m also quite drunk, as evidenced by the way the room tilts in my vision. Fucking Stars, Elyssara. Well, I’m here now, so I guess I’ll have to keep going.
The man at the bar turns toward me, his smile widening as his eyes rake over my face and down my body, lingering too long in a way that feels invasive—just enough to make my skin prickle. “Good evening, indeed,” he replies, his voice smooth and confident. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Is it that obvious?” I ask, letting my lips curve into a sly smile, even as my pulse quickens.
Stars, Elyssara, what are you doing? But just as I move to turn, acknowledging that this was a bad idea, I feel Kael’s eyes on me from across the room, burning into my back, and something reckless inside me takes over.
“Obvious? No,” the man says, leaning slightly closer. “Intriguing? Definitely.”
I tilt my head, playing into the moment despite the gnawing voice in the back of my mind telling me that this man is all pretty smiles and dark motives. “Intriguing can be dangerous.”
“Danger can be thrilling,” he replies, his grin widening. The easy charm in his tone feels forced now, like he’s trying too hard to impress. But it doesn’t matter—this isn’t about him. “Where is a pretty woman like you staying tonight?”
“A gentleman never asks a question like that without offering to solve the problem, now does he?” Oh my gods, why am I still speaking?
Before he can reply, the warmth at my back shifts, a shadow falling over me. My heart stutters, and I don’t need to turn around to know it’s Kael. His presence is unmistakable—solid, commanding, and suddenly, terrifyingly and thrillingly close.
“El,” Kael’s voice is low and quiet, but there’s a steel edge to it that sends a shiver down my spine. “I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight, don’t you?”
I glance back at him, my expression carefully neutral despite the way my blood hums in my veins. “You are not in charge of my fun, Kael. Go have some of your own—Jax is waiting.” I wave him off with a dismissive flick of my wrist.
“Let the lady have a little fun, my friend,” the man remarks, and I instantly know that he has made a grave error.
Kael’s eyes are dark, his jaw tight as his gaze flicks briefly to the man at the bar before settling back on me. “You are mine to keep safe,” he grits out.
“Oh?” I ask, my tone light but biting. “And when did I become yours? Before or after Jax was basically sitting in your lap?”
His lips twitch into a smirk, suddenly becoming amused. “Jealousy looks good on you, Duskae.” Without taking his eyes off me, he adds, “He can’t give you what you’re looking for. We’re leaving.”
Before I can respond, Kael steps closer, his muscled body brushing against mine as he places a gold coin on the bar.
His presence is a wall between me and the man now, and the air around us crackles with unspoken tension.
“Her drink’s done,” he says flatly to the man, who blinks in surprise.
He looks like he’s about to argue, but he leaves and returns to his comrades.
Kael turns back to me, his voice low and for my ears only. “I am the only man that will solve the problem of where you are sleeping tonight and any night, do you understand?”
“I am not yours to command,” I counter, my tone clipped. I furrow my brow in annoyance as my chest tightens at the possessiveness in his gaze. “I was perfectly fine here.” No I wasn’t.
“I don’t share,” he says, his hand brushing my arm as if to guide me away from the bar.
The words hit me like a blow, sharp and deliberate, and yet they ignite something dark and exhilarating in me. I don’t fight him as he leads me toward the stairs at the back of the tavern, his grip firm but not rough.
As Kael’s hand brushes my arm, the weight of his words lingers in the air: I don’t share.
My heart pounds against my ribs, an intoxicating mix of anger, defiance, lust, hunger, and something darker I don’t dare name.
His grip is firm but steady as he leads me toward the stairs, but before we can reach them, the man from the bar reappears, flanked by two companions.
“Taking off already?” the man sneers, his earlier charm now replaced with something far more sinister. He steps into our path, his smile a taunt. “We were just starting to get acquainted.”
Kael’s body shifts subtly, his stance broadening as he steps partially in front of me. His hand releases my arm, but the weight of his presence wraps around me like a shield. “You’re making a mistake,” Kael says, his voice low and calm, like the first rumble of thunder.
The man chuckles, his companions flanking him. “Are you always this possessive of your whores? Look at her filthy body, Galreth’s finest lady of the night.” He says it with grandeur, and looks around at his companions, who snicker at his taunts.
Kael’s smirk is cold, lethal. “Wrong answer.”
The man’s grin falters, and Kael’s hand moves so fast I barely see it, gripping the man by the collar and slamming him against the nearest wall.
The impact reverberates through the alley, and the man’s cocky demeanor vanishes, replaced by wide-eyed panic.
“Do not touch what is mine,” Kael growls, his voice edged with something primal.
The man’s companions step forward, drawing daggers, but Kael is faster.
In a fluid motion, he spins, using the first man’s body as a shield as he deflects a clumsy slash.
The alley erupts into chaos, and I’m shoved back against the wall, my breath catching as I watch Kael move with terrifying precision.
His blade flashes in the dim light, a streak of glinting onyx cutting through the shadows.
He disarms one of the men with a brutal twist of his wrist, the dagger clattering to the ground.
The other lunges at him, but Kael sidesteps easily, driving an elbow into the attacker’s ribs with a sickening crack.
The Starforged Blade sings at my side, begging me to draw and use it, so I don’t hesitate.
I unsheathe the blade, its bejeweled hilt glinting from the Stars in the night sky.
The man with the obviously broken ribs moves towards me with wild rage in his eyes, but I am nothing if not at home in alleyway fights for survival.
I stalk towards him, my blade yearning to slice through flesh.