Page 16 of Iron & Embers (The Ashes of Thezmarr #1)

CHAPTER 16

Wren

‘Within these hallowed halls, the secrets of many realms are yours to discover, but tread carefully, for knowledge is a double-edged sword’

– Drevenor Academy Handbook

A S THE DAYS aboard the Sea Serpent’s Destiny passed, Wren couldn’t help but track the Bear Slayer’s movements across the deck in turn. Never far from her side, he was larger than life, a weapon honed by the Furies themselves, and everyone knew it. She had seen the way the crew revered him, whispering tales of his adventures in his wake. And the women...

Women of all ages aboard the ship were nothing short of obsessed. There was no missing the way their eyes followed his powerful body as he did his morning training exercises at the bow, no unhearing the crude things they said in the absence of their husbands. They stared at him in a way that made something ugly twinge within Wren, though she did her best to ignore it.

The Bear Slayer, however, took it all in his stride: gracious, modest, and, if anything, a little abashed. It only served to fuel the simpering.

Against her better judgement, Wren commented on it one afternoon. ‘Someone’s popular,’ she taunted, jutting her chin in the direction of a trio of young noblewomen from Harenth.

‘Jealous?’ Torj bit right back.

Wren kept her mouth shut after that.

Wren’s magic was restless, and the current surging through her made it harder than usual to sleep. When she did, she was plagued by nightmares.

One night she woke with tears streaming down her face. The pain blooming behind her eyes told her she’d been crying for hours in her sleep. She couldn’t recall the dream – a small mercy – but she felt hollow, as though everything inside her had been wrung out and she had nothing left.

Only when she’d palmed the last of the tears away did she spy the Warsword in the corner of the room with a start.

‘I kicked your door in,’ he told her. ‘And still you wouldn’t wake.’

Wren drew a trembling breath, her gaze flicking to where the door was propped against the frame, its hinges lying in shattered pieces on the floor.

‘How long has this been happening?’ the Bear Slayer asked.

She couldn’t stand the gentle note in his voice, the pity. It took her back to that damn memorial service four years ago, when she’d completely lost herself, when he’d held her as she’d sobbed. She hadn’t cried like that since. Until now, apparently.

‘A while,’ she replied at last.

‘You’re painting me a real picture there, Embers.’

‘It’s none of your business,’ she said, though she didn’t have the energy to lace her words with as much venom as she wanted.

‘Everything is my business now.’

Wren scrubbed at her face and pulled the blankets up to her chin, her heart still hammering wildly in her chest. ‘You broke my door.’

‘I thought someone was hurting you.’

Wren took a deep breath and closed her eyes. ‘No one can hurt me any more, Warsword.’