Page 100 of Tethered In Blood

Her eyes whipped to mine, filled with fire.

“At least keep Garrick with you if you refuse to let me guard you.”

She scoffed and lifted her chin in defiance. “I don’t need a guard.”

My eyes locked on the half-elf as she spoke. A knowing gleam laced his features. His eyes, that smirk. It was a flicker of satisfaction that vexed me.

That bastard knew. He understood she was more than just an herbalist. He had been watching her, listening to her, and now he believed she was vulnerable. I wouldn’t allow him to think that. I refused to let him believe she was unclaimed. Unprotected.

“Your back suggests otherwise,” I ground out.

Quinn froze. Hurt flickered across her features before her mask snapped back into place, morphing into a pure, blistering rage. Her hand formed a fist at her side. “Fuck you,” she snapped.

I stepped closer, leaning down and tilting my head as my voice lowered to a provocative tone. “Here?”

Her nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed. My words sounded sensual to others—a challenge laden with implications. Only we recognized that the weight of those words had nothing to do with intimacy. The half-elf would hesitate before touching her again.

Quinn, however, appeared as if she wanted to punch me.

Good.

Do it.

Show him.

Garrick wedged between us with a chuckle and pushed me back. “Down, boy.” His hand was firm against my chest, but I hardly felt it past the storm in my head. “The sun is about to set,” he added. “We should head to the docks soon. And we can’t do that if you two rip each other’s throats out in front of the market stalls.”

Quinn handed two bronze quince to the Elven woman behind the stall before shoving the herbs into her satchel with more force than necessary. “I wasn’t—” She cut herself off, chewing her lip.

I rolled my shoulders back and compelled my muscles to relax. “Let’s just go,” I muttered.

She refused to look at me.

The piece-of-shit leaning against the stall still hadn’t moved. Still had that same smug look in his eyes. But he had enough sense to keep his damn mouth shut. I gave him one last glare, walking away before I gave in to the urge to bash his skull into that stall and make him eat the gravel at my feet.

Quinn fell into step beside Garrick, maintaining just enough distance to make her point. Garrick, of course, was all too eager to break the tension. “Well, that was some unresolved energy,” he drawled, loud enough for me to hear. I shot him a glare. He smirked. “Just saying, you two argue like lovers,” he added. His grin widened when Quinn’s face paled.

My pace quickened toward the docks. If I stayed near Garrick any longer, Iwouldrip someone’s throat out.

30

Oberon

THESKYSTRETCHEDindull orange and gold, casting the water in flickering, dying light. The sun had vanished, swallowed by the horizon, and the air had changed with it. The salt in the breeze felt heavier and thicker with moisture, and the mist creeping along the docks had grown denser. I stood at the edge of the furthest pier and stared out over the darkening waves, but I wasn’t really looking at them.

Something was off.

The subtle unease slithered beneath my skin as I rolled my shoulders and flexed my fingers at my sides. The weight of my sword and the pressure of my belts were grounding, but the tension in my chest had nothing to do with a potential threat.

Not yet, at least.

Behind me, the soft rustle of pages turning mixed with the crash of waves. Quinn was still writing, chasing answers as the lanterns flickered around her. Her usual energy had dulled over the past few weeks. Her fire was muted, her words were softer, and her movements were slower and less decisive.

The stitches in her back had healed. It was in the way she moved. Her steps weren’t as rigid, no longer careful to avoid pulling at the wounds. She no longer tensed when she reached for something or turned too fast. She still favored one side and adjusted the strap of her satchel to keep it from pressing against the worst of it, but she didn’t wince as often.

I checked on her at night, sat with her when she woke, and waited for the haze of sleep to fade from her eyes before she inevitably sent me away, brushing it off with another muttered excuse.

I let her. Every time. But I wasn’t blind.

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