Page 96 of Esperance

Guilt settled in his gut, dulling the heat of his temper.

Amryn’s eyes narrowed, as if she didn’t like the softening in his expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I truly never meant to hurt you.”

She stiffened. “Carver Vincetti, let me make one thing clear. I couldn’t care less who you crawl into bed with. As long as it’s not me, we’ll never have a problem.”

Chapter 25

Amryn

She and Carver hadn’t spoken since their fight. They were halfway up Zawri, and though Amryn’s calves ached, she didn’t stop walking. The sooner they reached the top of the mountain, the sooner they might see other people, so she could have a break from Carver.

The jungle was alive around them. Was it too cruel to hope it swallowed Marriset?

Probably.

She wished it anyway.

The humidity was oppressive, the heat sweltering. She wanted to dive into one of Ferradin’s northern lakes. Perhaps that would cool her burning hurt and flaming anger, too.

One of the problems with being an empath was the fact that she could feel the pain she inflicted. When she’d snapped at Carver, she’d felt his cut of hurt. That made it hard to feel like she’d actually won their earlier spat.

The fact that she could feel his frustration, shame, and regret was also difficult to bear. She just wanted to be angry with him. She especially hated feeling his guilt, because it only confirmed everything she already knew.

He’d touched Marriset. He’d been touchedbyher. The thought of him holding her, kissing her . . . It brought out a possessive, painful rage that confused and unsettled her.

She didn’t want Carver.She didn’t.But she also didn’t want Marriset to have him.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

She hated his words. The apology was just another confirmation of his infidelity, and the soft way he’d spoken them, like he truly cared about her feelings . . . It made everything he’d done with Marriset feel even more cruel. If he cared about Amryn at all, why had he turned to Marriset in the first place?

In the distance, dark clouds gathered. She knew Carver was tracking them, too, because his wariness was magnifying her own.

The clouds rolled closer, sweeping across the sky until they blotted out the sun. Thunder rumbled, and the first raindrops splashed down on them.

“We need to find cover,” Carver said.

“The high cleric said it would be dangerous to leave the path.”

“This path is going to be washed out once the rain starts pouring. Unless you want to be washed off the mountain, we need to get off it.”

She looked up toward Zawri’s peak, but Carver shook his head.

“We won’t make it. We need shelter.” He peered into the trees on their left, then their right. “This way,” he decided, leading the way off the path.

Amryn considered staying where she was, but digging in her heels didn’t really make sense. As irritated as she was with Carver, he had more experience with tropical storms than she did. So, she followed him, carefully picking her way through the thick foliage.

The coming storm charged the air. As Amryn strained to pick up any dangers, she became aware of a low vibration that brushed against her empathic sense. She didn’t know how else to describe it, except maybe a weak hum. Feeling it, she frowned. She had no idea what it was, but she was soon distracted as the wind kicked up.

Her short skirt whipped around her knees, and she was grateful for the protection of the leggings, even though she’d been cursing them earlier for being stifling.

Without warning, the drizzling rain turned into a downpour. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself as the water pounded down. It was loud as it slapped against the leaves, and only the most strident bird calls could be heard over the sound.

She was drenched by the time Carver indicated their impromptu shelter. At the base of a large tree, several bushes with wide fronds offered meager protection. She settled her back against the trunk, shivering as she pushed wet curls off her face.

Carver settled beside her, so close that their shoulders brushed.