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Chapter

Twenty-Three

ARLON

It takes all the control and restraint I have in me to release Tessa as the song winds to a close. The musicians return to the bar to drink the beers that Mistress Maeve has set out for them. Tessa ducks her head and walks to our table, and I follow because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

I may have pushed her too far just now, with the offer that flew out of my mouth before I could stop it.

It was an impulsive idea, but she smelled so delectable and was holding on to me, her fingertips digging into my shoulders.

Every time I spun her around, her breath brushed my neck, and something loosened inside me.

So I blurted out the thought that had been rolling around in my mind ever since I first realized who she was to me.

And now she’s running, weaving between dancers to reach our table and—what? Drink more to forget that she now has an orc mate following her everywhere?

But when I reach the table, she’s standing beside it rather than sliding onto the bench. Her jacket is clutched in her hands, her eyes glimmering.

“I’m ready to head upstairs,” she says, her cheeks pink from dancing. “Just to sleep, of course.”

“Aye, understood,” I say quickly. “You don’t want another drink?”

She reaches out and takes my hand, sending a glance at the innkeeper behind the bar. “No, thank you. We have a long way to ride tomorrow.”

That’s true, and her words serve as a reminder that we should get some sleep, especially since we might be camping in the wild again soon. If Tessa gave me a sign, though, I’d gladly spend the night worshipping her body and give up my rest.

We stop at the washroom downstairs, and I wait for her just outside the door, unwilling to leave her unguarded. This inn is secure enough, so I might be overreacting, but I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her on my watch.

She smirks at me when she emerges from the washroom, as if she knows exactly what I’m doing.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” she murmurs as we make our way up the stairs. “Very gentlemanly of you.”

I only grunt in reply because the thoughts going through my head at the sight of her ass in those riding pants are anything but gentlemanly.

Tessa snags a lantern from the hallway, one that likely wasn’t intended for our private use, but she only uses its flame to light the one in our room.

Instant guilt slams into me at the realization that I assumed she was stealing, when she was just being practical.

She takes the second lantern out again, and I school my expression into something resembling a smile.

She latches the door behind her, shutting us into the tiny room, then narrows her eyes at me. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, crouching to root through my saddlebags for a razor and a comb. “Nothing.”

Tessa’s footsteps come closer, and she looms over me for once, her hands on her hips. “You’re lying. I thought you said we should be truthful with each other.”

“That’s true.” I scrunch my eyes shut for a moment, then look up at her and admit, “I thought you were stealing that lantern.”

She frowns. “Why would I steal a lantern?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t a rational thought, and I’m sorry I assumed the worst.” I push off the wall to sit on the bed, putting some distance between us.

Her smile is a brittle, bitter thing. “I suppose I deserve that.”

I reach for her, then drop my hand when she takes a small step back, as far as she can go in the small room.

“Tessa…I know you only broke into the Ravens’ mansion to find information on your friend—and my room, too.”

I grip my knees, my knuckles turning white. She’s retreating again, locking down her emotions, and the blooming, honey-sweet notes of her scent are becoming subdued, like hot coals doused in water.

“You’re trying to make excuses for me,” she says softly, her gaze on the floor. “To justify what I did, right? Because you believe I’m fundamentally good. That I wouldn’t steal from those who didn’t deserve it. That I only grabbed what I needed to save Lindie.”

“No, that’s not what?—”

I start to protest, but she holds her hand up, a silent plea to let her continue, so I shut my mouth and listen.

“I picked pockets and stole from people’s homes.

” Tessa holds her chin high now, though a flush is rising up her neck into her cheeks.

“I took jobs for the Ravens, did you know? I stole papers from a solicitor’s office to help one of their people get off easy for trying to bribe a member of the city watch. ”

Every word is a hit, delivered with sharp precision. I might not remember the specific case where important documents went missing, preventing Major Strahl from closing a case, but there were others. So many others. And Tessa was involved?

“Why are you telling me this?” I rasp.

“So you know who I really am,” she yells, flinging her hands up.

“So you’ll stop looking at me like I’m some precious gift that the Fates have given you, because I’m not.

And if you keep thinking I’m perfect, that I can do no wrong, you’ll be disappointed with me over and over, Arlon.

And if I let myself care about you, I’ll feel that disappointment every time I fuck up and do something that goes against your high moral standards. ”

Her chest rises and falls with quick breaths, her eyes shining with unshed tears. This is ripping her apart, and my chest is caving in because I can’t protect her from me.

“I shouldn’t care what you think of me.” Her voice cracks, and she presses her lips together, shaking her head.

When she continues, it’s clear how much the words are costing her.

“I don’t have the luxury of those standards.

My family turned their backs on me, and I was left with nothing.

That hurt a hundred times worse than Hugo leaving.

I’m sorry you’ve been put in this situation, I really am.

But I can’t afford to trust you. To trust anyone but myself because I’m the only one who’s always been there for me. ”

She swipes her fingers over her cheeks, sniffling. She stares at me for a moment, and I don’t know what to say. For once, I have no clever answer ready.

A shaky exhale, and Tessa turns toward the door. “I’ll find somewhere else to sleep for tonight. I’m too tired to ride out, and Clover deserves the rest.”

I’m reaching out before I realize what I’m doing. “Tessa.”

I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug lightly, just enough to stop her.

She glances back, hurt and shame in her expression, but there’s something more. Something that sends pain streaking through me—a raw, desperate hope.

And I see it then, clear as day. She told me this, showed me the worst of herself, because she still thinks I’ll leave her.

That I’ll let her go. Abandon her, just as all the rest of them did.

So I grip her wrist more firmly and say, “Don’t go.”