Page 21 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

LYDIA

They rode hard until the sun was low in the west, stopping only from time to time so that Malahi could use her mark to erase their trail, which explained in part how the three had evaded capture for so long.

When they’d put acceptable distance between themselves and the horde, they finally stopped for rest.

“The deimos will be out in force soon enough, so no light, no fire.” Agrippa loosened his horse’s girth but kept the saddle in place. In case they needed to make a quick departure, was Lydia’s guess, so she did the same with her mount, the animal eyeing her warily.

“They may be already,” Killian muttered. “Given they were in the air midday, there must be a way to make them fly, even when the light hurts their eyes.”

“That way is called asking them, though they are notoriously mulish,” Agrippa replied. “Their humanity isn’t overly intact, but they understand orders just fine.”

“Pardon?” Lydia demanded, even as Killian said, “Humanity?”

“They don’t know.” Malahi was perched on a rock and cloaked by shadows. “Of which you are well aware, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

“You do enjoy ruining my fun, Majesty.” Agrippa removed his saddlebags, carrying them into their camp.

“The deimos are corrupted shifters. Men and women with Lern’s mark who spent so much time in animal form that they lost themselves to it.

Doesn’t matter what animal they favored, this is what they become, and from what I know, they can never change back.

” His gaze flicked to Lydia. “Though I suppose it’s possible.

I’m just an Empire soldier, so what do I know about gods and such. ”

Lydia bit the insides of her cheeks, hearing the double layer of slight against her.

For all she’d reined in the impulse to give in to her darker half, Agrippa quite clearly didn’t trust her and kept himself between her and Malahi at all times.

But rather than resenting him for it, Lydia found herself appreciating his caution.

Agrippa, at the very least, would do what was required to keep her from harming anyone.

Unlike Killian.

Unrolling her bedroll, Lydia cast a glance at Killian where he was feeding the horses, grief threatening to drown her.

They were finally free to pursue the love between them, but there wasn’t a chance she’d risk touching him.

Even with her focus at its sharpest, she’d be tempted.

Not just by her mark but by him, because gods help her, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

With lust burning through her veins, there was no chance she’d be able to maintain any level of control.

Killian believed she would master her darker impulses.

But what if she didn’t?

What if their fate was to spend their lives together but out of reach? Unified in purpose and soul but unable to show it? How long until their love turned to bitterness and bitterness into hate?

Her eyes burned, and turning to Agrippa, she asked, “Will you bind my wrists and tie me to a tree?”

“No,” Killian snapped. “We are done trussing you up like a prisoner.”

It was tempting to remind him that he’d done just that when she’d been deep beneath the Corrupter’s hold, but instead Lydia said, “I need to sleep. I can’t sleep if I’m afraid of losing control of myself and killing my friends.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Agrippa said, “we aren’t friends.”

“Agrippa.” Malahi’s voice was cool. “Do not be an ass to her.”

“Can’t help it.” He grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”

“It’s not.”

“And yet…” He gave Malahi a wink, and though it was too dark to see clearly, Lydia sensed Mudamora’s queen was blushing.

Jealousy roared into her, anger rising that they’d flirt and make light of her circumstances right in front of her.

Lydia’s lips parted to inform Malahi that Agrippa’s flirtation meant nothing at all because he was a womanizer and whoremonger who would cast her aside as soon another pretty face came along.

He was probably only flirting with her because she was Queen of Mudamora and the High Lady of House Rowenes, which made her the wealthiest woman on the continent.

Instead, she said, “Did you love this Silvara?”

Agrippa’s smirk fell away, his hazel eyes darkening, and in Cel, he said, “You’re not improving my opinion of you.”

“I’m not trying to,” she answered, using Cel as well. “But I know you, and I don’t care to see you take advantage of her.”

“Given not hours ago you were ready to steal every drop of Malahi’s life, I think your motivations here are much less selfless.” Agrippa held out a hand to Baird. “I need your belt.”

“Use your own.” Baird’s accent was terrible, but it appeared Agrippa had taught him some of the Cel language. “Her wrists are skinny, so it should suffice.”

“Apparently I need my belt around my waist to keep my trousers in place.”

Smoothing out his blankets, Baird said, “A chain and padlock couldn’t accomplish that.”

“Enough.” Malahi climbed to her feet. “You will speak in a language that everyone present understands, or you will not speak at all. In fact, unless you two have kind words for each other, you will keep them to yourselves. We have enough adversity in our lives without arguing over petty issues.”

“How do you know my issues are petty?” Agrippa reached out lightning quick as Baird flopped down on his bedroll, yanking the giant’s belt free.

“Body language is universal.”

Agrippa huffed out an annoyed breath, then approached Lydia. She held out her wrists, and he stared at her bare hands for a minute before tugging gloves from his belt and tossing them to her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, pulling them on. Killian went back to caring for the horses, his jaw tight with displeasure.

“If it comes to it,” she said softly, “kill me. Please.”

Agrippa expertly bound her wrists before her with Baird’s belt. “He’ll stop me. He’ll die before allowing anything to happen to you.” He looped the length around her back and through her own belt, limiting her range of motion. “You’re overestimating me if you think I can stop him.”

“You stopped me.”

“You can’t fight worth shit, and corrupted, in general, tend to leave their backs exposed.” His mouth twisted. “Sorry. I know you’re trying. But I’ve spent years around those with corrupted marks and only the old ones have any control. In my experience, control only makes them more dangerous.”

Moving to retrieve a length of rope from a saddle, he fastened it around the tree with several highly complex-looking knots, then came back to her.

“To answer your question, I was sixteen when I met Silvara. As you surmised, it was during the siege where we, along with the Twenty-Ninth, captured the rebel-held fortress of Hydrilla in Bardeen province. She was in the camp of followers who served the needs of the legion. A laundress, but unbeknownst to me, also a rebel. As to whether I loved her…” He trailed off as he fastened the other end of the rope to her belt.

“I hated her for a long time after we parted ways. Now I understand why she did what she did, and also why I deserved it.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s in the past.” He checked the knots again. “That should slow you down a bit if your dreams get the better of you.”

“Thank you.” She awkwardly lowered herself to her blanket, sensing Killian’s scrutiny although he said nothing.

Agrippa walked over to Malahi and sat next to her.

Though he was slightly shorter than Lydia, Agrippa was broad of shoulder and heavily muscled, and Malahi seemed tiny next to him.

Agrippa rooted around in his saddlebags and extracted a packet of jerky.

He gave Malahi a large piece, then said, “Was what you said about the Thirty-Seventh true or was it just a ruse to disarm me?”

This was dangerous ground. Telling Agrippa that the Thirty-Seventh was in the West had been effective in disarming him, but it had also potentially been a mistake on her part.

If he chose to return to the legions, he’d bring with him an incredible wealth of knowledge that would aid the Empire in its conquest, and Agrippa had proven that he was willing to switch sides.

But… she also remembered what he’d said about desertion.

The legion might just kill him without taking time to discover his value, and Agrippa had to know that.

She warred with what to answer, but then Killian came up to the group with his own bedroll and said, “It’s true. ”

Silence stretched, broken only when Baird said, “Well, shit.”

“This was the army you told me about?” Malahi asked. “The one you’d been with since you were a boy? That you were separated from when you fell through a xenthier? The one whose mark you have on your chest?”

Lydia couldn’t help but wonder what else the pair had discussed during their flight across Derin, for it seemed Agrippa had held little back.

“Yeah.” Agrippa sighed, then added, “The Thirty-Seventh Legion of the Celendor Empire.”

“This was where you fled to, Lydia?” Malahi asked. “Or, I suppose more accurately, where Queen Camilla fled to with you as a baby?”

Malahi was filling the silence to give Agrippa a moment, Lydia could tell that much.

“Yes. She was injured by Rufina during her escape through a xenthier stem, and she died on the streets of Celendrial. I was taken in by a senator, which is like a very powerful lord, and he raised me as his own daughter.”

“I assume the Thirty-Seventh came through the Bardeen path?” Agrippa’s voice remained toneless. “Path-hunters mapped it?”

“I was gone before they departed,” Lydia answered.

“But I’ve a friend in a Maarin crew who told me that the Maarin were blackmailed into taking the Thirty-Seventh and Forty-First legions into the doldrums where the greater ocean paths are hidden.

” It was her turn to swallow hard. “If they’ve since learned about the path you took, I could not say. ”

Silence.