Page 81 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

For all my bravado, I felt like a younglin in front of the Drótinn. I’d rather fight him with a weapon than be on the receiving end of his disappointment.

"Despite all the years of training, despite the constant reminders over the last few days," Brahm eyeballed Liam, his voice hard, "you two managed to be far enough apart that you couldn't reach Raina to portal away before they reached her. It left her vulnerable. Unacceptable."

I sensed Liam shift beside me. "It was my fault," he asserted.

Like hell it was.

"No. The fault was mine. I pushed Liam on something he didn't want to talk about. I knew he wouldn’t want to discuss it but I picked that scab anyway. I distracted us both."

Brahm's brows drew together, and for a moment, I wondered if the floor would crack open under the force of his frown.

"What's done is done,” he said, cuffing Liam around the back of his neck and putting their foreheads together. “It won't happen again. Understood?"

"Understood," Liam and I said in unison.

I suspected I was getting a taste of what it was like to grow up with Brahm as a father. He was assuredly harder on his berserkers than this, showing affection while correcting behavior.

Brahm released his son and went back to the other side of his desk.

"Letting emotions cloud your judgment has consequences. Now sweet Mirrelle is in the infirmary, enduring Gunnar's so-called attentions."

Sweet? I didn’t know where that assessment came from, but I did feel responsible for her injuries. I lowered my head, looking down.

"From this moment on," Brahm continued, "you two will work together as one. No more distance. Arm's reach, at all times. Always."

"Always?" The word slipped from my lips before I could corral it, betraying my trepidation. "Even at night?"

"What does always mean, Raina?" His reply was sharp, a sword unsheathed.

Color flooded my cheeks. I felt Liam's intense stare on the side of my face.

Always meant no space, no hiding. It meant physical closeness that was a danger to my request of starting as friends.

"Go," Brahm ordered. "Create a plan to make up for the fiasco of last night. We now know they have an Anuban witch. I’m tasking you to create a solution. You owe the clan that much."

I swallowed hard.

As Brahm turned and left his study, the heavy oak door closing behind him, I felt the space between Liam and me shrink immeasurably.

"Alright then," Liam said, his voice low and steady, "we have work to do."

He moved toward the table strewn with maps and scrolls, his back to me for a moment, and I caught my breath at the sight. Even in such simple actions, his poise held an edge of readiness, an ever-present reminder of the warrior he was.

Fit. Strong. Capable.

"Every waking hour?" I murmured, still grappling withalways, at all times.

"Seems so." The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile but he made no other comment.

"Let's start with the perimeter," Liam suggested, unrolling a detailed map of Ephandor and the lands beyond.

His finger traced the outlines of the territory, and I couldn't help but notice the warmth radiating from his skin just inches from mine.

“Initial thoughts?” he asked.

"The patrols will need to be doubled at least. If there’s only one Anuban, they likely don’t have enough power to handle that many berserkers at once."

“Assuming they still don’t intend to kill anyone in the clan.”

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