Page 29

CHAPTER 29

‘Th-thank the gods,’ a desperate shout sounded from the trees and a second later Lonn came thundering through the bush with two horses behind him.

He was dripping wet and his lips were blue.

He nearly sobbed when he saw Fyn, but still managed to bless himself with the diamond.

He tied a sloppy knot to tether the horses and lurched over to the hot spring, fingers shaking as he undid the buttons of his shirt.

A prayer necklace hung around his neck, the stone beads visibly smooth from handling.

He kicked off his boots and pants, and clad only in his drawers, stumbled into the nearest end of the pool, forcing Fyn to move to avoid Lonn’s flailing limbs as he submerged himself in the water.

‘Apologies, C-Captain.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Lonn, you’re freezing,’ Fyn said softly as he traversed the bend in the pool to make room for the barrel of a man that was Lonn.

Elva’s gaze caught on Fyn’s dark trail of hair and her eyes dropped, hissing when she saw the cloudy water covered his hip bones.

His body tensed when he realised how close she was and he took a step back, bumping into the edge of the pool.

Heat surged between her legs, and she cursed herself for being this horny when a man was thawing from hypothermia mere feet away.

Then she cursed herself for being so easily distracted by sex when there were other things to be thinking about.

Biting her lip to stop herself from laughing at her own stupidity – or lunging at him – she turned away and scooted over to the far side of the rockpool, leaving enough room for Fyn to sit opposite her.

‘Did you kill him?’ Fyn asked Lonn, the easy cadence of his voice turning sharp.

Lonn nodded.

‘He n-nearly drowned me, but yes. The priest is d-dead.’

‘Drowned you? You didn’t get in the water because of the blood?

’ she asked.

‘N-no? He ran into the river and I followed. Did you know they can’t move if they’ve been hit with another weapon?

Wait, w-what do you mean about the blood?

’

Fyn opened his mouth but she shot a leg out and kicked him, hushing the question in his eye with a shake of her head.

If Lonn hadn’t been burned, then that meant one of two things: he either didn’t touch the blood, which was unlikely given the state of his knuckles, or he wasn’t hurt by it, which meant it had something to do with their Ever.

She looked at Fyn, willing him to understand.

After a moment he nodded.

‘I’m so glad you’re not dead, Fynton, I thought the Ending might get us today,’ Lonn said.

He raised a hand to hold the stones around his neck, fingers rubbing the beads in circles.

Silence settled between them as Lonn thawed, and Elva tried to relax back into the warm rock.

She stretched her legs out, sinking up to her chin but froze when the arch of her foot brushed against something warm.

She pulled back, but the contact remained.

She wriggled her toes ever so slightly, wondering if perhaps Fyn didn’t realise their feet were touching.

Her stomach dropped in pleasure when he pushed back, the pressure of his skin against hers spreading until it was all she could focus on.

It was so erotic she thought she might combust.

How the hell was playing footsies sending her wild?

She’d had orgasms with less chemistry.

‘We need to get you back to camp, it’s not right to have you here without guards,’ Lonn said, startling Elva so much she pressed her foot down, hard.

A breathy laugh escaped Fyn, whose head was tipped back against the edge of the rockpool, eyes closed, the picture of relaxation.

If she didn’t know better she would have said he was unaware of everything but the warmth of the pool.

Yet she could feel the thrum of his heartbeat through the water.

‘Don’t worry about it, Lonn, we’re okay.

’ He lifted his head and opened his eyes, his gaze falling to hers without hesitation.

She didn’t blink, just held his stare until the tension was so thick she could taste it.

‘I only have two horses so we’ll need to share,’ Lonn said, oblivious.

The thought of Fyn pressing against her in the saddle was almost too much to bear.

‘That’s not the only thing we’ll need to share,’ she said, wrestling her mind from the image.

‘My clothes are covered in blood. I’m going to need to borrow something, unless riding naked into camp would be received well.

’

Lonn’s eyes shot open in panic and he made the blessing of the diamond, again.

It was odd to suddenly be confronted with his prayer.

Lonn was an unknown entity to her, and while she was slowly starting to trust Fyn, she didn’t know if she could extend that trust to his lieutenant.

‘You’ll wear mine,’ Fyn said, his voice calm, as if he didn’t know those words combined with the pressure of his touch was sending her wild.

‘You left your shirt back at the river,’ is what she said instead.

His eyes darkened, and she couldn’t hide the smirk curling the corner of her lips.

‘You’ll have to wear mine.

It’s improper for a woman to be in such disarray,’ Lonn said, cheeks flaming pink.

He turned and looked out across the river before them.

‘We owe thanks to Rivalin for putting these here in our time of need. Blessed by the glory of the Seacht, in the shadow of Caius we follow.’

Psyching himself up, Lonn got to his feet and clambered out of the water.

He lurched over to his clothing, found his shirt and dropped it near the edge of the pool.

It was damp, but at least it wasn’t covered in blood.

He ducked his head as he approached, and Elva could have sworn even his neck was pink in blush.

The water was cloudy so he couldn’t see anything, but perhaps even the notion of a naked woman made him nervous.

Godsdamn propriety.

Lonn went to his clothes and turned his back, peeling off his wet shorts to change.

Elva looked at Fyn, her smile growing.

‘Your turn,’ she said, pulling her foot away.

Fyn met her gaze and he rose slowly, water running down his neck, his chest, his abs.

His olive skin glistened and she wanted to lick him.

She let her gaze roam his chest, vaguely aware that Lonn had gone to check on the horses.

Her eyes travelled further south, but just as they were about to rest on him, he quickly turned and stepped out of the pool, body shielding his cock from her gaze.

She hissed and he chuckled, but the hiss was half-hearted when she took in his ass, all gleaming curves and hard muscle.

He went to his clothing a few feet away and, without giving her a peek, pulled on his pants.

Then he picked up Lonn’s shirt, holding it out for her.

‘Your turn,’ he said.

She let her grin grow, wicked delight coating her features as she stood, steam drifting from her body.

She was used to being naked, but the way his lips parted, how his eyes danced over her body, felt new.

His breath hitched and she smiled, blinking through her lashes as she plucked the shirt from his fingers and swung her arms through the fabric.

He prowled towards her and she stilled, shivering with anticipation, until they were standing chest to chest.

He reached out and grasped the fabric where it skimmed her thighs, and buttoned the shirt, his fingers working quickly.

Goosebumps broke out across her flesh, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

This was a bad idea but she couldn’t remember why.

She’d never thought getting dressed could be so sexy, and wished there was more clothing for him to put on her.

A hat, perhaps?

He reached the top button, and gently folded the collar down, his touch light, before stepping back.

‘We should go.’

She nodded, unable to move away until the sounds of Lonn wrangling the horses became too obvious for her to ignore.

‘We need to go now if we want to make it back to camp by nightfall,’ Lonn called as Fyn pulled his boots on.

She went to her pile of clothes, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

She didn’t even want to touch them, but she wanted something between her and the saddle, rather than literally riding bareback into camp.

She pulled on her wet underpants, wincing as the cold material touched her warm skin.

If there was anything to shock the last dregs of what she was going to call an adrenalin-induced fugue state, that was it.

She grabbed her pants and shirt, and stuffed them in one of the saddle bags, wiping the dried blood from her palms quickly.

When she was sure the burn wasn’t coming, she turned back to the two half-naked men.

‘So, who’s riding with who?

’

Elva was glad she’d chosen to ride with Lonn, despite the glower radiating from Fyn.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

Or rather, she’d known if she got on a horse that bumped them closer together she’d lose control of the tiny semblance of clarity she was clinging on to.

In all her plans she had never seriously considered she might like her betrothed.

Remi had joked about them being twinsouls, but they’d both known it was a false jest to try and buoy her spirits at the prospect of leaving.

The thought of actually liking him, beyond the notions of friendship or diplomacy or pure lust, made her head spin.

She felt a small twinge of guilt – she’d left Remi in Vincentia, thinking she was off to wallow in a loveless marriage.

And while they were neither in love nor married, whatever was happening between them was more than she’d bargained for.

Fyn was the polar opposite of Remi in more ways than one, and yet she couldn’t help the fire that burned through her when she thought of touching him, of the pulse in her chest that wanted to trust him.

That pulse of knowing had saved her life more than once, but it was also what had got Neve killed.

Was she willing to trust it again when the stakes were this high?

What would it mean for her future?

For their marriage ?

It wasn’t as if Clochain recognised divorce if it didn’t work out between them.

That was.

.

.

she let out a sigh.

She didn’t know what that was.

Scary.

Enticing?

Definitely confusing.

If her knowing was right she had nothing to worry about.

But if she was wrong, then more than her feelings were going to get hurt.

They rode slowly back to camp, too tired to brace themselves against a gallop.

In the hour it took them to return, she wrangled her emotions enough to suppress the desire flooding her system.

It helped that ten minutes into the journey she was cold and the rub of the saddle was making the welts itch, and not in a pleasurable way.

By the time they could see the Clochain scouts, Elva would have been fast asleep if the discomfort hadn’t kept her awake.

All she wanted was a meal and warm clothes, and a salve to rub on her skin.

The burns from the priest’s blood were healing faster than normal, and she figured after a good night’s rest they may be completely gone by morning.

Add this to the list of things she didn’t understand.

They dismounted near the command pavilion and shuffled inside, ignoring the stares and whispers of the soldiers around them.

As soon as the flaps of the tent closed, Lonn let out a long sigh and tipped his head back, lips murmuring a prayer to a god whose name she didn’t catch.

‘We need to call a meeting,’ Fyn said.

Lonn said something about bringing the squad leaders together, and Fyn murmured back, too quietly for her to hear.

It was a novel experience to not be the one making the decisions.

She might have cared if she wasn’t so close to being comatose, but as it was, self-preservation was sending warning bells ringing in her head, and when strangers started entering the tent she realised she needed food and dry clothes more than she needed to be stuck in a room full of Clochain men staring at her.

If she was going to trust Fyn he needed to prove himself, and catching her up on the plan once she wasn’t starving and half-undressed would be the first step.