Page 50 of Where Darkness Falls

“Why?” she asks meekly.

“The fact that you’re wearing the Dragon’s Flame is enough to pique the interest of His Majesty,” Laisren answers.

She chews on her bottom lip, obviously thinking.

“And if I refuse to go with you?” she asks.

“You’re coming with us, even if I have to throw you over my shoulder kicking and screaming,” I growl.

Her eyes blaze with such venom that I’m sure she’s thinking of the thousands of ways she could kill me.

“I’d like to see you try,” she sneers.

She has a death wish too, apparently.

“What he means to say,” Virgil interjects, “is that we’d gladly let you stay here to grieve, but our job is to retrieve you. I promise no harm will come to you by our hands, as long as you willingly choose to accompany us.”

Her fiery gaze lands on him, and I don’t envy him at this moment. For such a small thing, she seems to be quite feral.

“We’re staying at the inn tonight,” Virgil continues, ignoring her glare. “You’ll be given your own room, with fresh clothes, and a bath. We’ll rotate watches at your door. Then we’ll head to the palace at first light. Our job is to keep you safe on this journey. I promise on Siorai’s reign that we’ll protect you.”

What is it about her that makes him want to open his mouth and talk?

Truly, I have never heard him speak so much.

“Fine. There is nothing left for me here, and I suppose a bath wouldn’t be so bad,” she replies, rising from the floor.

“Now you’re seeing reason,” says Riordan, also removing his helmet. He holds out a hand to her, grinning brightly. “No offense, but you smell like a kelpie’s breath on a good day.”

“How would you know what a kelpie’s breath smells like?” Laisren retorts.

“I can’t reveal all my secrets, Laisy,” he jokes.

Despite her sadness that rolls off in waves, the tiniest smile lifts the corners of her mouth. It’s so brief that if I wasn’t looking at her, I would’ve missed it. I also don’t miss how Riordan doesn’t release her hand right away. I count to five before he finally does—five seconds too long.

My chest tightens, and I contemplate cutting off Riordan’s appendages myself. My shadows stir restlessly, hoping I’ll do exactly what I’m thinking. He shouldn’t have touched her. None of them should’ve touched her. Yet, something in me wishes it’d been me to offer a hand first. I’m familiar with anger, disappointment, hatred, or even fear, but not whatever this is.

Well, there is only one logical conclusion… She’s bewitching us. I’ve never wanted to hurt a member of my cadre before, yet here I am contemplating murder just because Riordan made her smile.

She grins lightly as she listens to Laisren and Riordan bickering. Well, that is until she looks at me, and the small glimpse of amusement melts away. Her eyes cut me with a stare so cold I’m sure I’d feel warmer in the snowy Galrosan woods right now.

“Lead the way, High General,” she sneers.

Siorai, help me.

This woman will be the death of me.

I’m irreparably damaged.

My aching body.

My throbbing head.

My hollow heart.

Life appears to have lost the small luster that it once held. Even the warmth of the bath is doing nothing to lessen the pain. When we arrive at the inn, the general—true to his word—insists that I’m given my own room. “One of us will be outside your chambers at all times. If you try to escape, my generosity ends. Do you understand?” he says in a gruff voice, muffled by his helmet.

Rolling my eyes, I close the door. The room is small, but spacious enough for me to move about comfortably. A small cot sits in the center of the space, and a light glows through a crack in the door, leading to the bathing chamber. The chamber is decorated in soft greenaccents with silver lining the walls, as well as a clawfoot tub to the right. As I draw the bath water, my mind is consumed by the grouchy general that refused to remove his helmet in my presence. How can he even see through it indoors? There isn’t a need for secrecy.