Page 58 of Between Despair and Hope

I began to cry.

The destruction I had wrought was too much. I’d refused to send Cyran to his brother. Refused to trade an innocent young man’s death for Rain’s life. And yet I’d done exactly that—six-fold. How many of the Folterran soldiers had been innocent? Forced into the life of a warrior by their corrupt monarch? I climbed into the bed, the simple furniture of the fort creaking as I moved. The plain, white linen reminded me of home, of Brambleton. The grey blanket scratched my skin as I pulled it over my naked body. I dwelled in the discomfort. The narrow window let a small streak of mid-day sun into the plain room, illuminating the threadbare tan sofa which set this room apart from the others. I laid there for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling.

I buried my head into the pillow and screamed.

Chapter 22

Dewalt

ThemomentIdroppedEmma off in her chambers, I leaned against the wall outside her room. I debated what I needed to do first—all things ranked high on the list. I needed to bathe and get myself out of these clothes. A shiver of delight raced through me at the thought of the bathhouse. It didn’t compare to the running water back home, but the steamy mineral baths had always soothed me. I also needed to find Rainier, tell him what happened, and send him to comfort Emma. Though, based on some of the faces I saw him making, I wasn’t sure if he’d be of much use. The man was fucking broken, and it pissed me off we didn’t kill Declan for it. But Emma was right to have him call the retreat.

When Lux and I first took off, she did a long sweep northward, and I saw the legion. We were barely a match with our entire army—let alone the small group we had, even if we did have dragons. I was surprised by the sheer number Declan had, and I wondered where they all came from. Folterra had never held a candle to our numbers before. I was half-tempted to steer Lux over the soldiers, have her rain down divine hell upon them, but I didn’t want to separate from the others. Besides, I didn’t know what kind of conduits made up Declan’s army, and I didn’t want to risk Lux. I didn’t know what could take down a dragon, and I didn’t want to find out. But now, the Folterrans knew we had the beasts and would prepare accordingly. We needed to be ready too.

The last thing I needed to do, or perhaps wanted to do, was yell at the novice who opened her stupid mouth. I had specifically asked her not to say anything to Emma. She seemed good at opening her mouth when no one asked, and I had the evidence to prove it. When I’d been changing, I picked chunks out of my gods damned hair from what she’d done down my back, and I nearly retched myself. I didn’t care if I smelled like Ciarden’s ass or she was dizzy from the flying or any other gods damned reason she could’ve given me; she could have leaned over.

And then she didn’t let me delicately break the news to Emma about what happened. I was going to talk to her and Rainier at the same time, so we’d both be there to talk her through it. This shit happened, and as much of a stain on the soul as it was, there was nothing to be done for it but to beg forgiveness and promise to do better. And Rainier and I had been through it enough. We’d have been able to fucking get her through it too. But the novice had blindsided me, and I wondered if she’d done it on purpose.

Everyone within the Myriad could go fuck themselves, as far as I was concerned.

Rainier had to strong-arm me into escorting Emma to her meeting with Filenti, and they’d made her fucking kill someone. And then the very next time I take pity on one of their people? Fucked again.

I was done with it.

I was in a bad mood from being covered in literal shit and vomit and seeing what had happened to my best friend. I hadn’t had time to kill enough of them either. Shade killed the guard in the dungeon, and then I went straight to the burning building full of novices, only taking out the one Folterran along the way. I was itching for a fight, and I knew she’d be likely to give it to me.

That was why I chose to bathe first—to douse some of the frustration coursing through my veins. It wouldn’t get us anywhere, and it would probably piss Emma off. I’d get accused of intimidating the woman, but something told me Nor wasn’t someone easily intimidated. Still, I opted to calm myself instead. Swinging by the room I usually stayed in when we visited the Cascade, I picked up the things I’d need.

The bathhouse was on the eastern wall of the fortress, not very large, and built on a raised platform which allowed hot air from the furnaces to circulate below. It was something Raj and Rainier had added in an attempt to work with the Folterrans in Clearhill, learning about their more complex systems from an older mason originally from Darkhold. There was a large room for men and a smaller one for the women directly beside it, and I strolled into the antechamber and shucked off my pants and boots.

Once inside, I made my way to the pool in the very back, shrouded in shadow and steam, and sank into its warmth. After washing my body and hair several times over, scrubbing my skin until it ached, I finally leaned back, arms spread and head tilted. It hadn’t been long when I heard someone come in, quiet footsteps padding across the floor. Keeping my eyes closed, I listened to make sure they didn’t come to my pool. There were only a few rules of the bathhouse, and that was an unspoken one. Don’t fuck with someone’s bath if you can get clean elsewhere. Thankfully, I heard the quiet splash of water across the tall chamber and relaxed.

Until she started singing.

I knew Raj had brought some villagers over from Clearhill, but divine hell, had he really not taught them how to use the gods damned bathhouse? It wasn’t as if she had anything to worry about. Not a single man in this fortress would fuck with a woman for fear of death—either by one of their captain’s hands or the woman they harassed. Despite that, it annoyed me.

I couldn’t make anything out other than her silhouette thanks to the steam and low light in the room. I didn’t want to stare, but thatvoice…

I hoped it was the Folterran woman I’d seen hanging sheets in the courtyard. She had been beautiful with a pleasing face, large breasts I’d love to get my mouth on, and sunflower hair. She had smiled at me and blushed prettily, and I’d made a note of it. Maybe she’d help me work out my frustration later. The only thing better than fighting in a battle—which I didn’t even get to do—was the ensuing fuck after.

Ven was here, and even though I had yet to talk to her about the bond, I didn’t plan on fulfilling any kind of need through her—bond or otherwise. And until I talked to her about it, I wouldn’t find release elsewhere either. Our arrangement didn’t call for anything other than respect, and I planned to give it to her.

So, instead of approaching the pool, I let my thoughts run rampant. Was it wrong to imagine perfect tits bounce beneath me as golden hair pooled around the pretty face I’d seen? Probably. But it wasn’t as if I acted on it. It wasn’t as if Ieveracted on it. The only person I’d had sex with in the last decade was Ven, and most times the bond was the reason for it. Sure, sometimes we’d bring others into it, as we had with the merrow, but that was for Lavenia. Not for me. As much as I tried to convince myself about the Folterran woman, I knew I wouldn’t have sought her out even if I’d already spoken to Ven. For the first time, I wondered if my dick would even work without the bond goading it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been hard without those golden strings being the cause. I’d been able to manage before I bonded with Ven, but I didn’t want to go back to that. I didn’t like to remember what I was like back then.

I closed my eyes and listened; the voice, high and clear, lulled me into a serene comfort. It was a captivating song about a mother bird coming home to find her nest empty, her baby bird having flown free and never returned. What truly surprised me was that she didn’t sing in the common tongue. I recognized it by the melody, a song my older sister had sung to me when I was little. Like my sister Saski, the woman sang in the tongue of the elders, the language predating the gods. Though I didn’t speak it, I could pick out a few words I knew. I was surprised to hear the inclusion of the cheeky verse at the end; most people left it out. The mother bird cursing at the father bird for his excitement over a bigger nest was meant for a certain type of crowd. I waited for the curse, the only word meant to be sung in the common tongue, but it never came.

Unable to help myself, I hummed along to the melody, and the fight I’d felt earlier was gone from me; I only felt relaxed. I’d nearly dozed off when the singing stopped. Waiting for her to continue, I kept my eyes closed until I heard the splash of water which told me whoever owned that voice was getting out of the pool.

I should have stayed put, letting her leave in peace, not embarrassing her with the knowledge she went to the wrong part of the bathhouse. Or alerting her to the fact a man was here all along. But I was curious about the woman behind the voice; would she sound as pretty crying out my name?

Fuck, it hadn’t beenthatlong. The fact I was hard over a voice answered my earlier question.

I thought about Shit River and getting puked on in order to control myself. But I was in a hurry, and it did nothing to help me solve the problem below my waist. Clouds had blocked the windows, and the steam didn’t help my vision. Her silhouette wasn’t enough, though I could tell she was relatively tall with a lean body, and I wanted to know who the fuck she was. When she reached for her towel, I did the same, but was distracted when she rose from the water. It was when she wrapped her towel around her body, the light shifting in the room and the steam clearing just enough, that I recognized her.

Nor.

Two things happened very quickly. The first thing that occurred was the realization I hadn’t even brought my towel over, so I had no choice but to stay put, my cock out of control beneath the water after seeing the shape of her body and hearing her voice. Traitorous, my dick. The second thing was something heavy getting thrown directly at my face with a scream.

“What in the most vile of hells are you doing in here while I’mbathing?” The bird’s voice was significantly less fucking pleasant when she wasn’t singing. This woman who had done nothing but piss me off since the moment I met her had just thrown something at my face. And it didn’t feel good.

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