Page 26 of Echoes of War

“That you’re stronger than Sloan. More capable. That she should turn to you as a mentor and not just lean on you the way she does one of her little cronies. There’s a lot she has to learn, and she’s under-utilizing your talents. You have what it takes, she doesn’t. She’ll get people killed?—”

“So will I.” I cut him off. I saw where he was coming from, but he was wrong. Sloan’s treatment pissed me off as much as the next person; despite that, at the end of the day, she was still my friend. Not to mention, we weren’t as different as everyone thought us to be.

“Yes, but not for lack of trying,” Alexiares reasoned, his accent growing thicker in his intensity. “Not because you waver in your leadership. Yours will be casualties of war, hers will be casualties of her own indecisiveness.”

“Watch it. That’s my friend you’re talking about,” I snapped.

That was enough. I wasn’t going to sit back and let her get slandered when she couldn’t defend herself.

“Is it? Because the rest of us can’t tell.”

Silence. That was what filled the air. Silence and anger. Not directed at me, but coming from a place of confusion and defensiveness. Tomoe and Reina may have hated me at the moment, but they hated Sloan’s treatment of me even more. Where my friends were concerned, I’d done nothing to deserve her impatience and indifference toward me. But I understood, my second had caused the deaths of hundreds of her people. Not only their deaths, but she’d never had the chance to grieve the loss of Morgan. A man she had apparently grown to love. If what Abel had told us was true, they were soulmates. That shit tugged at my heart, I could certainly understand the havoc losing one does to your life.

“Yes. She is. And I can relate to her loss. The difference between me and her isn’t that she isn’t capable, it’s time.” I said, my tone lethal. “Guidance. I had Prescott and Jax as a moral compass and years to grow into my position. Checks and balances and goodpeople surrounding me when mistakes were made. Sloan has no one. She was thrust into this life and expected to make no mistakes. She has no one, except for me. That would be hard for anyone to adjust to, let alone someone who never expected to end up in this situation. For as long as I’ve known her, she’s been a follower, not a leader. The fact that she stepped up to the plate makes me proud, so I’ll take her harsh words and nasty glares if that’s what it takes to keep her going. You of all people should know how much having a sense of hatred can propel someone into action. The force of fire under your ass can make a person unstoppable.”

Alexiares said nothing, just nodded his head and stared off into the distance. He was learning when he should and should not push me, quickly understanding that this was a conversation he had no business continuing.

“I accept your apology.”

My words brought a soft smile to his lips, lips that I desperately wanted to kiss but refrained from doing. Light filled his eyes, acknowledgment of the torture I was inflicting on myself by resisting.

He pushed himself off the ground, extending me a helping hand. “I’m ready to go again.”

I watched Alexiares move into place, practicing drawing water from the lake in one hand, and lighting a silver and gold flame in the other. Carefully, he guided the flame along the dried branches I had strategically laid out a few feet away. He almost had it, his thick brows scrunched under the pressure and then he failed. Again.

Wait a fucking minute. I huffed a laugh, I knew exactly what to do.

“Alexiares,” I whispered, coming up directly behind him. I couldn’t get as close as I wanted, he towered over me even with the thick sole of my boots.

“Yes?” His body stiffened at my tone, head glancing over his shoulder, magic dousing, eyes trained on my mouth.

It appeared my words had the effect I’d been seeking after all so I pressed on, “I know what the issue is.”

“Do tell.” Alexiares’ head tilted, curiosity lacing his words.

“Each time I’ve seen you in control, my life was in danger.”

It was true. The night in the national park when we’d been chased through the forest by feral savages, when Finley’s soldiers had come for us in the clearing near St. Cloud, then again down by the river. Each time, he’d remained in control. It had taken him no focus, no concentration, no thought. He had simply acted.

“Okay, and?” he questioned, shrugging it off, already having chalked it up to a coincidence.

“How were you feeling in those moments?”

The snow crunched under his boots as he shifted uncomfortably at the question. “What is this? A therapy session?”

“Again with the questions.”

“Scared,” his voice was soft, hushed. “I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to save the last life I cared about.”

“Well shit,” I teased, “don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” I took another step closer to him, now chest to chest.

I turned my stare up, placing my hand over his heart. Even through the thickness of his layers, I could feel his heartbeat pick up. Alexiares’ breaths grew short and shaky, his hand falling to the cusp of my lower back and he pulled me closer. Through my own layers, my skin grew hot and my face flushed despite the cool winter air. It was December, yet my skin burned as if I were back home in Monterey.

A snapping of branches caught my attention, I had picked up on low moans and groans earlier but it appeared Alexiares remained distracted. None the wiser. Taking a step back, I turned around, throwing knife in hand and tossed it directly in the center of a Pansies head. It had barely crossed the threshold of the tree line. In the next moment, I drew another knife from my sideholster holding it over my wrist. I looked up, meeting confused honey brown eyes and slit my wrists.

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