Chapter 1 #2
A corner of his lips hitched, an arrogance I’d never seen on him. “We’re staying right here so he can meet us, and we can destroy him.”
“Do we even have all our forces here?”
“We have enough.”
Slowly, I shook my head. For weeks, I’d known Koerlyn would likely prepare an aggressive offensive.
He and Harthon were the only two Princepes who knew the magvis had given me the path into the Domus when she changed my eyes.
From the moment Harthon had stolen me from him, Koerlyn wanted me back.
And now that I’d just slipped from his grasp again, it seemed battle was his strategy.
But for that all to come to fruition now, so suddenly—it was too real, too soon.
And Stefano was being entirely too casual about the whole thing.
“So we’re just sitting here, waiting for him to come, weapons ready? What happens if we lose?”
Stefano’s eyes flashed with something fierce. “We aren’t just sitting. We’re preparing. And we won’t lose.”
On wooden legs, I stumbled to the bed and collapsed.
I was about to be in the middle of a war.
Could a girl not catch a damn break?
In my Second Territory village, I’d known suffering and hardship. I’d even known death. But aside from what happened to my parents, it was rarely the violent kind.
But ever since the magvis altered my eyes, that had changed. I’d seen more violence and danger in the past few weeks than I had in years combined, and I’d even started to learn how to inflict violence upon others. But I still wasn’t used to it, and I hadn’t even learned weapons with Callen yet.
I was so terribly unprepared for battle, it was laughable.
Except it wasn’t remotely funny. People were about to die. I might be one of them.
“You should drink,” Stefano said.
Dazed, I looked up to find a metal cup in his hand. “So the prisoner’s allowed water?” I said, taking the cup.
Again, his throat bobbed. “That’s not what you are.”
“That’s exactly what she is,” a deep, powerful voice said.
My insides hollowed out. Then the warmth in my chest burst, that heat flinging as far as my shoulders before drawing back toward its core.
It confirmed what I was quickly learning.
The pulsating kernel of knowledge was its own separate entity, existing within me, because at the sound of Harthon’s voice, Etarla felt anything but warm.
The sudden intensity of both sensations nearly made me drop the cup.
I barely managed to keep it in my grasp, expelling a harsh breath as I battled both my body and the presence that’d entered this tent.
A presence so authoritative and powerful, it could only belong to him.
The man who’d forced me into his world.
The man who’d kissed and held me as if I were something precious, all while hiding that he was with those mercenaries who’d killed my birth parents and razed my village to the ground. That it’d been his father’s men who’d irrevocably altered my life.
The man who now thought me a traitor.
Setting my jaw, I stood and faced him.
Harthon was dressed for war. He wore his typical earth-toned trousers and tan leathers.
The textured shell was tightly molded to a muscular chest and wide shoulders, giving way to the long sleeves of a black tunic—sleeves I knew covered corded, scarred arms. Over them were thick leather arm guards, above and below each elbow.
Plates of the same material armored his shins and wrapped around two strong thighs.
Black straps laden with more daggers than usual were fastened across his abdomen, and behind his shoulders, the hilts of two swords protruded from their sheaths.
“I’m no traitor,” I said evenly, finally dragging my gaze to his face.
A series of braids pulled his dark brown hair away from his forehead, leaving the rest hanging loose to his shoulders.
The whiskers lining his square jaw were longer than I remembered.
Rather than unkempt, the result was half-rugged and half-wild, something that reminded me of those vicious wolves we’d encountered in Fifth.
It was only accentuated by the fierce set of his jaw, the strong lines of his slightly crooked nose, and those dark eyes that regarded me with stony indifference.
Harthon had never looked at me in such a way.
“You handed yourself to Koerlyn.”
He said it with such blunt simplicity, he couldn’t possibly know the entire situation.
“It’s not that simple. I received a note stating he had Merelda, and—”
“I know what the note said.”
I stared at him, waiting for a flicker of understanding. There was none.
“So you know that I didn’t go to him willingly. That I was forced to do what I did.”
He took a step forward, and his cold facade slipped, revealing a fury that seeped into his voice.
“You weren’t forced to do anything. You made a choice, and that choice was to keep that note to yourself rather than tell me.
To deliver yourself to Koerlyn without a thought to what that could mean for yourself or this world. ”
No doubt, what I had done was dangerous. But for him to belittle my actions, to make such assumptions, was just obtuse.
I matched his step with two of my own, the metal cup in my hand trembling. “I spent a lot of damned time thinking about what it could mean for this world. It’s not like I would have stayed with him. I was already thinking of escape when I left the Citadel—”
“There were never any guarantees you could have escaped—”
“I’m not finished,” I bit out, cutting him off.
His shoulders hiked up, eyes flaring with a spiraling temper that matched my own.
“Clearly you don’t know what the note said.
I could never chance Merelda’s life. She’s a mother to me, as you well know.
There were explicit instructions not to tell a soul, and considering someone had been close enough to me to deliver that note, they would know if I shared it with anyone.
And besides, if I had told you, you would have stopped me from going. ”
“You’re damned right, I would have,” he growled, launching into motion.
“And she would have died!” I threw the cup to the ground.
His hands were suddenly around my arms, hauling me forward until I bounced off his chest. “Except he didn’t have her, did he? You risked everything for nothing, Etarla.”
Trying to wipe the surprise from my face, I craned my neck, fear feathering through my emotions. He was a fuming mass of power. His nostrils flared with angry breaths, and while those big hands had managed to miss the bruises on my arms, their grip was unforgiving.
I tried to pull away, but it took him no effort to hold fast. This was a training scenario I’d practiced before with Callen. His hands were occupied, which presented an opportunity to attack his lower body.
“Try it,” Harthon said, deadly soft.
I froze, any thoughts of attack fleeing my mind. Harthon had never harmed me. I never thought he would. But then again, he’d never thought me a traitor, never held me captive with so much furious tension in every muscle.
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “There was no way to know he didn’t have her.”
“Not for you. But if you’d come to me, I could have easily discovered the truth with my spies—which is exactly what I did the moment I found you missing.”
“With her life in the balance, I couldn’t take that risk.”
His eyes only grew wilder. “There was no risk in coming to me. You could have been discreet.”
Harthon was beyond reason. Hardened warrior that he was, he would never see it from my perspective. Skies, he’d never let himself love Ana because it would have made him weak. And because of that, he was making me out to be some foolish girl.
Enough of this.
“I don’t expect you to understand, Harthon,” I hissed. “Maybe if you loved someone, you would.”
Something flashed across his face, slicing through all that anger. But a callous wall slammed into place before I could make it out.
“And if you’d ever cared for the welfare of others—for the greater good—you would understand.”
I expected the venom. What I didn’t expect was to be struck so hard by his retaliation.
We both knew it’d taken time for me to accept my duty to help save this world.
“It might have taken me some time, but I understand my responsibility.” My voice, my entire body, trembled. “It’s why I was able to unlock the path into the Domus from my mind. It’s why I had the strength to make it back to you.”
Part of me thought the reminder would ameliorate the situation.
But it didn’t, because his hands shook me once, sending my heart into my throat.
“And what if you didn’t make it back?” He lowered his face until his nose nearly touched mine.
“What if you died? What if Koerlyn did have Merelda and forced you to lead him into the Domus? What if he got control of all those resources, and you managed to make this world so much worse than it already is?”
I swallowed against the tears of frustration that suddenly threatened. I would not cry in front of him.
He abruptly released me, stepping back and scanning my body. “Clearly, you have no serious injuries,” he stated. He turned to Stefano, who’d been quietly observing our exchange. “We move forward with the plan. You’ll assist her with her armor.”
Stefano jerked his chin. “When do we leave?”
“We’re still waiting for him to advance first. Be ready within the hour. It shouldn’t be long after that.”
Earlier, Stefano had said we were waiting for Koerlyn’s attack. He hadn’t mentioned anything about leaving.
I was about to ask what was going on when Harthon addressed me again. “We’re using creative tactics today. You’ll be accompanying us on the offensive.”
Accompanying them? As in, attacking with them?
The only response I could manage was, “What?”
“I clearly cannot trust that you won’t run off to Koerlyn should another threat be made.
And I cannot trust that another man here won’t turn on me.
I can only ensure your security if you’re with me, Stefano, Callen, or North.
None of us can afford to stay behind to watch you.
For that reason, you’re coming with us into battle. ”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “I—”
“It isn’t up for debate. Be ready,” he said, effectively cutting me off.
Then he gave me his back and strode out of the tent.