Page 175 of War

“If you’re sick,” he says, “Pestilence would be able to help.”

I don’t wantanyof his brothers anywhere near me. But the way War says it, it’s more a wish than anything else. Wherever his brother is, he’s not going to be coming to my aid.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“You’re not,” War insists. “You look far too pale and tired—and skinny. Have you not been eating?” Worry pinches the edges of War’s eyes, and he still has a wild edge to his features.

“Why do you care?” I ask him, not meanly, just curious. He hasn’t shown any interest in so long.

“Wife, I have always cared.”

That title! I didn’t realize how badly I missed hearing it until now.

“It’s you,” War continues, “who never cared.” There’s an edge of bitterness to his voice.

He thinksIwas the one staying away? I mean Iwas, but only because he seemed to have written me off completely. My wounded ego can only take so much bruising.

“If only.” I look away from him.

At my side, War stills. He takes my chin and turns my face, forcing me to stare him in the eye. “What do you mean by that?” he demands.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I say miserably, half aware that Zara can probably hear every single word. Oh well.

“Speak plainly, Miriam,” War says, his features sharp and his gaze intense, hopeful.

Am I really going to do this? Shit, I think I am. I’m too exhausted to pretend away the truth.

“I care about you, War,” I admit. “More than I want to—muchmore. It’s been hell, not seeing you.”

War stares at me for a long minute, and then he smiles so big it seems to reach every corner of his face. It’s still a ferocious look on him with his sharp canines—not even happiness makes him look less dangerous—but my heart skips a beat at that smile.

“I’ve missed you too, wife. More than I have words to express.”

I flash him a shy grin of my own. Right now, he’s making me forget that I feel like roadkill.

“I’m still angry with you,” I admit.

“And I’m furious that you tried to gut me—with my own sword no less.”

I think it’s that last part that really got to him.

He leans in. “But frommywife,” he adds, “I expected no less.” The horseman leans down then and kisses me.

I’m tired and sick, but there is nothing,nothingin the world that could stop me from kissing the shit out of this man. He is the one thing that still manages to taste good. His lips devour mine, and his arms pull me in close.

The two of us make out for a long, long time. Eventually, War breaks away to slide his hands under my body.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He lifts me up. “I’m taking you home.”

Chapter 47

Now that Warhas kept his zombies at bay, I find I’m hungry. Very, very hungry. As soon as I see the platter of fruits, nuts, cheeses and breads laid out, I descend upon it. There’s a bowl of hummus nearby, and I’m not sure I’ve ever tasted anything so good in my life.

“You have an appetite?” War asks, coming to my side.

He looks upsettingly eager at the thought.