Page 36 of The Dark Mage

E srin gaped, his breathing shallow. “Ren’wyn?” he breathed. “Ren ’wyn.”

He moved fast, knocking over a chair as he rushed to her. His arms wrapped around her in a crushing embrace, his lips pressed to her hair.

“Ren’wyn,” he gasped through gritted teeth. “You’re alive. You’re safe.”

He bent to kiss her, but she turned her face, and his lips brushed her cheek instead. Ren’wyn felt Fael’s gaze like a burning question. He was close enough that she could hear his steady, measured breathing—holding himself in c heck.

Esrin noticed Fael then, loosening his grip around Ren’wyn’s waist as he sized him up.

She knew they could sense each other’s power, their energy crackling in the air between them.

She imagined them both wondering what the other was—or at least Fael was wondering. Esrin had probably already dec ided.

She regretted not telling Fael. These past months, she’d worked to forget Esrin and the pain of his abandonment. She’d truly believed she’d never see him again, that he’d gone back to Ishvaen and forgotten her. Now, her mistake sank in—especially as she saw Esrin’s reac tion.

“A year,” he whispered, turning his eyes back to her. “I’ve been searching for you for a year, and here you are—safe and healthy. I thought you were dead. I thought I’d never see you again. How?”

Ren’wyn’s chest was tight, her face burning as Esrin held her close. She reached up and slowly, gently broke his hold. The swirl of emotions made her stomach churn and her tongue fr eeze.

He’d been searching for her? For a year? Then where had he been when she’d needed him most?

Memories flashed through her mind too quickly to grasp: the pain of those first months, the slow process of saving herself, Fael’s friendship and support. Fael’s love. And less than ten minutes ago, she and Fael had been…

Esrin stepped to the side, brushing her arm tenderly before turning his attention to Fael. His eyes softened, but there was something guarded in them.

“Thank you for caring for Ren’wyn,” he said, his voice genuinely kind. “I can see you’re well-trained. I’m sure she’s already offered you plenty for your trouble. But I’d like to thank you as well—for keeping her safe for me. I can compensate you for any diffic ulty.”

Fael crossed his arms over his chest, and Ren’wyn could hear his steady breathing again, thick with restr aint.

“It hasn’t been any trouble,” Fael said plainly. “We’re toge ther.”

Ren’wyn locked eyes with Fael as his jaw tightened. He took a step forward, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip. She nestled into him instincti vely.

Esrin’s eyes widened, and he stepped back.

Recognition flashed across his face as his gaze dropped to Fael’s possessive hand, then returned to Ren’wyn.

The disbelief and pain on his face wrenched her emotions in a thousand directions.

Slowly, Esrin’s eyes roamed over her, taking in every change: the way she’d grown thinner since school, the way she hadn’t responded to his kiss.

His eyes flicked to Fael—full of dark anger. Then they returned to Ren’wyn, disbelief creeping in a gain.

“Ren’wyn?” His voice cracked as he stepped closer, the three of them standing so close they could touch. “Did he f orce—?”

The question died unfinished as Fael’s low hiss cut through the room.

Esrin took a startled step back as Fael’s power rippled over them like a hot breeze. Ren’wyn felt his hand tighten on her hip, the heat of his energy seeping through her d ress.

Fael wouldn’t meet her gaze. His eyes were hard and angry, and a strange sinking sensation came knowing part was aimed at her. She couldn’t blame him. If a lover from Fael’s past had reappeared, claiming he was still hers, she’d feel the same way.

“Tell us why you’re here, Esrin,” Ren’wyn said gently, still caught in the web of emotions—anger, shock, disbelief, and a painful sadness that still ling ered.

For a moment, she thought he might leave without answering. But he relented, crossing his arms as he stared at the wall, as though it was easier than looking at her in Fael’s emb race.

“I’ve been on the move for almost a year,” Esrin said. “I’ve gathered a group of companions from different places. We live and work together, taking care of each other. When one of them heard about two unusual travelers in town, I came to invite you to joi n us.”

Fael studied Esrin with open disdain. Ren’wyn placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but he shifted away almost imperceptibly. Her throat tight ened.

“We’ll need to talk for a moment,” she told Esrin, gesturing toward the main room. “We need some pri vacy.”

Esrin’s gaze lingered on Fael, grim and searching. But he nodded smoothly and left the room with his head held high.

Fael watched him go, then turned to Ren’wyn. His eyes were cold. She didn’t shrink from his gaze—there would be time for explanations. She knew what she felt. She could only hope the strength of his feelings would carry them through this.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was all she could think to say—too little, yet everything she needed him to know.

Fael stared at her in silence. “We need to talk about him, Ren ’wyn.”

The quiet intensity of his voice sent a shiver down her s pine.

“I know, Fael. I promise we’ll talk. I promise. I’m confused and afraid, and this is difficult. He’s not... I’m not... It’s you. You’re my...” She broke off, her voice choked by t ears.

“I don’t trust him,” Fael said, raking his hands through his hair.

“I know,” she replied. “I know. He was good—once—when we were... together.” She sighed, frustrated. “We’re not together now. That’s clear.” She glanced away, then met his eyes again. “His group might be what we’ve been looking for—not him, but…”

It was coming out all wrong, and her love for Fael closed her throat a gain.

Fael grimaced. She hated that he didn’t trust her in that mo ment.

“I’ll hear him out if you think he can be trusted,” Fael said finally. “But I don’t like it. And I want that on the re cord.”

Ren’wyn nodded, and they returned to the entryway. Fael’s absence of touch spoke vol umes.

“We’ll come with you to your camp and consider your offer,” Ren’wyn said as they reached E srin.

Fael stepped between her and Esrin. His hand rested on his sword hilt, his power humming with restrained inten sity.

“If you try to harm her,” Fael said coldly, “I’ll kill you and anyone else involved—without hesitation. And I’ll enjo y it.”

Esrin nodded in acknowledgment, his face carefully neu tral.

“Get your things,” he told them.

After paying the bill and shouldering their packs, the three of them headed into the woods.

Ren’wyn decided she had never felt so uncomfortable as she did during the two-hour walk, where neither man would make eye contact or speak to her.

Hatred rippled between them like fire carried on the wind of a thunderstorm—hot, stifling, and oppres sive.

The trees grew thicker, draped with heavy vines and wispy curtains of hanging moss.

From time to time, Esrin whistled a lilting bird call into the trees, and a distant, identical whistle answered.

A warning, a request, or clearance to continue, she supposed.

Ren’wyn glimpsed bright bromeliads high in the branches and wondered if they were poisonous or useful.

Her gaze swept across patches of ferns and clusters of wild orchids, but she didn’t ask to stop—not with the mood hanging over her companions like a storm c loud.

They rounded a bend and stepped into a clearing.

It was a natural break in the forest, but it had been carefully tended by the group living there.

The brush had been cleared, and heavy canvas tents were arranged in a loose circle around a common area.

One section of the clearing had been scuffed bare from repeated drills and sparring sessions.

Two men were currently swinging their swords in slow-motion practice, pausing to offer each other feed back.

On the other side of the clearing, two carts were loaded with supplies and goods. A few horses grazed at the edge of camp, their tails swishing lazily. In the center, an unlit fire pit sat cold in the midday sun.

As Esrin stepped into camp, the two swordsmen broke off their practice to greet him, though their attention quickly shifted to Ren’wyn and Fael. Esrin led them to the center of the camp and called to the rest of the group for introduct ions.

Seven other people gathered around the fire pit.

“There are two on patrol in the forest,” Esrin explained, and Ren’wyn thought of the bird calls again. “One of our number is traveling in search of intel and sup port.”

Ren’wyn and Fael stood close together, quietly observing the strange assortment of people in front of them. Ren’wyn counted twelve tents. They’re expecting us to stay, she real ized.

A light brush of fingers against her flowing pants. Fael’s touch—a soft reassurance—loosened the tension coiled in her mus cles.

“This is our band,” Esrin said, gesturing to the gathered group.

“We’ve been together for the past nine months, traveling and recruiting those you see here.

Our goal is to reach Riva and organize a rebellion.

We’ve made significant alliances in Terrepin—one of whom told us of your arrival.

Zev, who’s currently away, works with rebels in Kareht and the Ste ppes. ”

He paused, giving them time to absorb his words. “We hope to sail to Anduan and secure their support once Zev returns. Otherwise, we’ll continue raiding imperial supply transports and forming alliances with local lea ders.”

Ren’wyn felt the trust Esrin was placing in them. It was no small thing to reveal so much—especially when everyone here had likely hidden or been hunted by the empire. People with magic were always searching for safety and a place to belong, or sometimes, for a chance to fight back.