Page 7

Evander clears his throat as he witnesses the same encounter. “Well, we know Ash will be busy tonight.”

I stifle a laugh, choking back my drink and covering my mouth with a hand.

Quinn spins quickly to see the interaction and lets out a low whistle. “Cade.” Gritting his teeth in a grimace, he turns back to the table.

Evander laughs louder then, unable to keep the humor he feels at this arrangement to himself. Ash evidently hears his booming laugh from across the room, as it results in a look that makes Ev curse and toss back the rest of his ale.

I jab his ribs with my elbow. “Knock it off. She’s going to get pissed.”

Laughter brims in my voice and Evander doubles over from the stab to his side. He grabs his stomach with his free hand and continues to chuckle to himself. Quinn remains facing us, not wanting to brave the wrath of Ash. Smart. He’s far smarter than either of us right now.

I see her peel away from Cade with a lingering look back at him before she makes her way to us, a fresh batch of drinks in her hands.

Cade’s gaze follows her even though he remains with his companions.

I see him continue to drink, one eye locked on Ash the entire time.

I quickly knock back the remaining ale to avoid looking directly at Ash.

I can feel her irritation brewing. She sits down and points her piercing eyes at Evander.

He grabs the new mug from her and takes a sip, speaking before she can lash out at him. “I just feel bad for the kid. He’s not going to know what hit him, Ash.”

A wide smile spreads across Ash’s face, her teeth gleaming. Predatory. Quinn shakes his head at her, pulling his own mug toward him. “He’s a baby,” he says with distaste.

“Precisely what I need tonight,” she responds, the smile remaining on her face as she tosses her curls to the side. Cade shifts in the distance, trying his damnedest to see her from where he stands. “They are so eager to please,” she purrs.

At that, the entire table erupts with amusement—a welcome reprieve for all of us. If even for a moment, the horrors occurring outside the borders of our camp are forgotten.

We continue to drink and talk as the night wears on.

Evander winds his arm around my shoulders once more, his fingers trailing along the side of my neck, sending a pleasurable sensation up my spine and across my arms. We discuss our days and reminisce about childhood like we always do when we drink, dredging up memories of sneaking off to the beach to swim by the moonlight when we were supposed to be in bed, chiding Quinn for his reputation as a heartbreaker, and recalling fond memories of those we left behind.

And as we talk, Evander’s fingers curl around a tendril of hair that escapes my long braid.

He twirls it about his finger and my body responds traitorously each time his finger traces the shell of my ear.

The tiny tugs on my hair make my stomach tense.

I try to blame it on the ale but know I’m making excuses.

To my relief, though, no one else seems to notice, the alcohol blurring their senses.

After another round, Ash makes a half-hearted excuse to leave, and Cade nearly trips over people to escape behind her. Quinn looks to Evander and reminds him that they are on patrol again in the morning, then stands, stretching his back with a loud grunt.

I figure this is the end of the night and I should be getting back as well.

Evander finishes his drink and removes his hand from behind my chair, fingertips lightly grazing along my neck, causing the hairs on my arms to raise and butterflies to dance in my stomach.

It feels like he is making every attempt he can to touch my skin, though I know that seems silly.

He likely has no idea that he keeps touching me or the effect it has.

When Evander glances down at me, his eyes are a bit glassy from the alcohol but alert nonetheless.

And focused entirely on me. I swallow, surprised by the intensity of his gaze as he stretches his hand out.

Taking it, I let him pull me to my feet, a shock vibrating through my body at his touch.

The motion brings me so close him. Unbearably close.

Quinn gives a gruff command of “let’s go” and I quickly drop Evander’s hand, grabbing my cloak off the back of the chair and following dutifully.

We walk back to the old inn in the cold, cloaks tight around us, though we are all kept warm from the alcohol running through our blood.

As two of Helara’s commanders, both Evander and Quinn reside on the upper level of the inn along with me.

Ash lives on the lower level near where she works in the kitchen, though I wonder now if she’s returned to the inn tonight or to another lodging with Cade.

The thought makes me smile as I’m sure Ash is having a good time, and I shove aside the small pang of jealousy that comes with the smile.

The one that bubbles up over her ability to lead a somewhat normal existence here. And my inability to do so.

As we pile into the building, Quinn holds a lantern high so we can see our way up the stairs to our rooms. He grunts a rough goodbye and pushes open the door to his room near the top of the stairs, barely passing the flickering light to Evander as he stumbles into the dark, making me wonder just how much he had to drink.

Evander and I continue down the hallway, walking at a slower pace now that Quinn is gone.

I want the walk to last but am surprised when Ev slows his gait as well.

I’m stretching the time to my door, savoring the closeness when we are forced together by the narrow gap between walls.

Evander’s hand brushes against mine and my breath catches as he caresses a finger up my hand and back down again.

It’s such a small movement to cause such a strong reaction in me, my whole body becoming hyper-aware of him.

I don’t dare move my hand away for fear he’ll stop as we near the end of the hall, the doors to our rooms looming across from one another.

I turn to say goodnight and Evander wraps his hand tightly around mine.

The light from the lantern casts shadows on his face, yet I can still see his eyes.

They look darker than usual, almost black as he stares into mine.

He raises my hand to his lips and brushes a soft kiss against the back, letting his mouth linger.

“Goodnight, Bria,” he breathes against my skin, never breaking his gaze.

A fluttering starts back up in my stomach, and I somehow manage a quiet “goodnight, Ev” before he releases my hand and I slink through the doorway into my room.

As I close it, I see him standing there, illuminated by the lantern, looking like a fallen angel. Beautiful. I force myself to push the door shut and lean my back against it, my heart racing in my chest.

I stay there for a moment, hanging on to the feeling of his lips on my hand.

So soft and supple against my dry and calloused winter skin.

His breath so warm and sweet. I catch myself thinking of what his lips might feel like on other areas and raise my hand to my mouth, smothering the smile that blossoms from the wicked thoughts.

“Idiot,” I say aloud to no one but myself. I’m a fucking fool to even think that anything is possible between us.

Especially because of the prophecy. I’m destined to save the world, to be a weapon. Not to flounder after a man, no matter how drop-dead gorgeous he may be.

I push away from the door, scowling at the foolish thoughts running rampant in my head before stripping off my clothes.

I slide on a nightshirt and climb into the small bed, then hook an arm around the pillow and pull it close.

It’s warm beneath the blankets, and tonight I have no trouble sleeping—probably the aftereffects of drinking a few beers and talking easily with my friends.

No matter what it’s from, it is a welcome gift to drift off so easily.

Even if I spend the night dreaming of the stark white. ..of bones.