Page 24 of The Warlord’s Princess (Warlords of Tempest #3)

RAMSEY

Never has my heart known such anguish.

Or my pain been so great.

But what am I to do?

Foolishly, I believed there could be more to us, and I had it in my heart that I would choose her even over the great princess.

Then she shared with me her mother’s fate. Her death during childbirth.

If her mother cannot birth a human child from a weak Penticari male, what gives Asha any hope of birthing one with Tempest blood? It is a risk too great to take, as I am not willing to sacrifice her for any amount of joy.

Even if it means giving up my own.

She could be pregnant now…

My heart quickens at the thought of a small child with her honey hair, though I know that dream is not meant for me.

It is not meant for any of us exiled, and we were fools to believe it was. But we cannot abandon them now.

I will speak with Grixis, and he will agree with me, because despite his lapse in judgment regarding the Penticari, he is not a fool. He will see the woman for what they are: weak, of lesser seed.

And then, we will do what must be done. Something we had vowed never to do: return them to their homeland, where they can live out the rest of their lives in relative peace.

Getting them back to their mainland will be difficult, but not impossible. Some in our tribe will argue that the women could tell their people about us, but even if they do, who would believe them?

It will grow colder for them over the years, but their lives should be full, and hopefully, they will know great joy.

Deep down, I know this is the right thing to do because it will take them far away, outside of the princess’s reach, and she is a much greater threat to them than the coming cold.

But what would we do with Elena, who is heavily pregnant with Grixis’s child?

There may not be a choice in the matter, as death will surely claim her, as the Penticari are clearly not meant to handle our seed.

I look at small Asha, longing to peer into her glassy blue eyes and tell her that everything is going to be fine. That I will protect her above all.

But I know not to say such things, as her spirit is already so broken.

As is mine.

After she is done cleaning and bagging the bugs, she grabs her things. “I’m ready.”

We start back toward the village just as the sun is above us.

Watching her slow, defeated steps forward, I feel an ache rising in my chest—an urge to tell her I was wrong, and I want her above all.

Yet I know there would be no greater folly.

At her pace, it will take us two days to get back to the village, but I refuse to complain because I know she is tormented.

I am too.

She yelps as a ribbon rushes past, rubbing the gooseflesh on her arms, which is adorable.

Stop looking at her so longingly—it is the Great Princess Kasmina you belong to…

What if I do not want her?

The thought feels wrong, yet I know the truth of it. That after having weak Asha, I have no desire for anyone else, for she is the princess of my heart.

But I can never let her know that. It would be better for her if she hated me.

I quicken my pace, moving rapidly behind her. “We must hurry.”

She glares back over her shoulder at me. “Is something wrong?”

“We have obligations to our tribe that should have come before your silly dyes,” I huff. “If I had known about this special blanket, I would not have had us out here.”

I see her pretty features fall just before she looks forward again.

Good.

I nudge her onward, hastening her along. She tries moving faster, stumbling a few times.

As much as I want to go to her and carry her in my arms, telling her how sorry I am, I harden my heart in hopes that one day she will find happiness without my shadow looming over her.

“When will we stop to eat?” she finally asks.

“At our pace, we can eat when we get to the village.”

She halts, and I nearly trip over her.

“I can’t go that long without food! Especially with all this walking.”

“Still, you find no shame in your weakness.” I say the words sighing, shaking my head in disdain.

“Everyone has to eat, Ramsey!” she insists.

“Hurry ahead, and if you make good progress, we will stop for a time.”

I stay at her feet, occasionally nipping them with my own, causing her to stumble. She curses me, saying things that do not even make sense in lesser tongue.

A short time later, when she cannot take it anymore, she goes over to a tree, bracing her hand against it as she pants.

Her face is wholly pink, and sweat drips down her face in a rush.

Unable to prod her forward, I hand her a water skin. She takes a big sip and gags.

“Of course you would choke on water,” I snarl, twisting the dagger deeper.

She scowls at me, taking another sip, and this time, keeping it down.

I open a leather sack, pulling out a cloth full of food. “Let us have some jerked meat and that bread Violet makes.”

“You really have a taste for Penticari bread, don’t you?”

I make my features hard, trying to convey annoyance.

She sighs. “I knew you wouldn’t want me, but I thought we could at least be friends or something. Then again, I was the one that created this situation. We were doing fine until…” Her voice trails off, and her pretty eyes flutter open and shut.

If only I did not love her back.

“Are you going to give me a hard time back at the village?”

I shake my head no.

She chews a piece of meat slowly, her eyes trained on the ground, her hands clenched on her lap.

My coldness will make it easier on her, I tell myself.

I purposefully cut our time short, hastening her to further her annoyance with me.

She groans as she moves, which makes me furious, but I force myself to keep back because I know if I touch her, my resolve will be lost.

“How much farther?” she snaps.

“We should make it back to the village before the sun sets,” I tell her, which will only be true if she can keep a brisk pace.

She mutters something and starts walking forward, but after just three steps, a long muffled roar makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK…

Terragulf!

I grab my axe from its sheath and look in the direction whence it came, seeing two golden eyes directly in front of Asha.

It was the roar that gave the giant beast away, as the clicking sound could also be made by an endergulf.

A far easier animal to kill.

“Asha!” I hiss.

Her body trembles ahead of me as she backs away.

I don’t think a single man has ever taken down a terragulf on his own as they are enormous, and Tempest men are not stupid.

“Come behind me,” I tell Asha, “and when the beast attacks, as I fight it, run toward the village. It is a clear shot.”

“What about you?”

“Worry not for me. You need to get to safety,” I growl, pushing past her toward the beast.

There must be something wrong with the terragulf, as its head is held upright, not in a stalking position.

“It’s enormous…” Asha’s voice trails off.

“Just skirt around it as we battle, and you should be fine.”

“Can you beat it?”

“I am much too stubborn to fall to such a beast.”

It is a lie I must tell her because nothing matters more than her safety.

I crouch, squinting my silver eyes, growling so that it sees me as a threat.

It stands instead of charging, perhaps because it is wondering if Asha tastes better than me.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK…

I wait for the beast to charge forward, but it stays rooted in place, its golden eyes staring.

It sees two and does not know which one to pounce at.

Knowing how much more dangerous this situation is for Asha, I span my arms out, making myself look like the bigger threat.

“When I charge, and it is distracted, you must?—”

“I’m not leaving you,” she says defiantly. “And I don’t believe you should charge.”

Panic rises in my chest. “You must, and you cannot stop until you are at the village.”

“Look how it’s acting,” she whispers.

We cannot stand here all day, talking while the terragulf decides who first to strike.

I must protect my Little Vaeyark, even if I must do so with my life.

“Asha,” I rasp, my chest rising and falling in erratic bursts.

“Yes?”

“I love you, too.”

With those last words, I charge forward, to certain death.