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‘You’re a constant pain in my arse,’ Cal muttered.

‘You should probably get that looked at.’

Cal’s nostrils flared in wild frustration, and Thea couldn’t help but laugh again, the tension from the day easing. How the pair hadn’t killed one another in her absence, she had no idea.

Kipp gave her a gentle nudge. ‘We leave before dawn from the northern gate.’

* * *

When Thea returned to Hawthorne’s cabin, her cheeks ached and she felt more like herself than she had in weeks. Hope fluttered in her chest. Perhaps all was not as bad as it first seemed. Despite the incident on the plains, Wren had still invited her to dinner… Things with Cal and Kipp were good. Perhaps now, she and her mentor could reach an understanding, could speak like adults… Maybe they could work this thing out between them.

With those words on her lips, she opened the door and let herself in. Inside, the cabin was bathed in the soft glow of the dying fire.

Hawthorne must already be in bed…She glanced around for some indication of the hour, but there was no clock to be seen. Sighing at the prospect of another night in the narrow cot with Hawthorne mere feet away from her, she pushed her boots off by the heel and left them by the door.

Still alert from the drink and merriment, she wandered around the room, taking in the little details: the potted plants that the Warsword somehow managed to keep alive though he was barely here; the tattered armchairs, where several rips had been sewn up with precise sutures. Then, on the side table… that damn jewel again. She picked it up and turned it over between her fingers, marvelling at the depth of its blue colour, wondering to whom it belonged.

The scent of rosewood and leather wrapped around her suddenly.

‘What are you doing?’ Hawthorne’s deep voice rumbled.

CHAPTER NINE

THEA

The Warsword stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He wore loose pants that sat dangerously low on his hips, and his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a strip of bare sun-kissed skin. A scowl graced his handsome face.

Thea refrained from jumping, instead dropping the sapphire back onto the table. ‘Nothing.’

Hawthorne’s gaze fell upon the jewel, something unreadable in his expression. ‘That’s not what you think it is,’ he murmured.

‘How can you know what I think?’ Thea bit back, trying to tear her gaze away from the rippling plane of his abdomen.

‘It’s written all over that beautiful face of yours.’

Thea’s heart stuttered. ‘So, now I’m beautiful?’

Hawthorne made a noise at the back of his throat. ‘You’ve always been beautiful.’ His words were gruff, but there was stark honesty there, too. His gaze upon her was hooded, hungry.

Thea flushed, suddenly all too aware of her own heartbeat pounding against her breast. ‘Hawthorne…’ she said quietly. It was both a question and a plea. What was this thing between them? How had it got so tangled?

He grimaced. ‘I hate when you call me that,’ he murmured, taking a step towards her.

‘I hate a lot of things you call me…’ she ventured, sucking in a breath as he closed the space between them.

‘Is that so,Princess?’ he replied, the deep timbre of his voice making her toes curl in her boots.

‘Yes,’ she said through gritted teeth.Damn this man, damn him to Enovius, she cursed silently. ‘Quit playing with me.’

‘I’m not playing.’

‘No? You made yourself clear when I was made your apprentice. You don’t want me. You don’t —’

‘Don’twant you?’ he cut in, his words harsh. ‘How can you think that? After everything? How can you notfeelit? This thing drawing us together?’

She stared at him. His silver eyes were intense as he grabbed a fistful of her shirt. ‘You have no idea how much I want you. How Iburn for you. You lit an inferno within me and it won’t stop. I can’t stop —’

Thea kissed him, crushing her mouth to his, her fingers tangling in his hair.