Page 28 of Wrath of the Dragons
Finnian shakes my hand beneath the table but Saskia blanches. “Do you want to die?”
I laugh into my chalice as Ryder casts Cayden a black stare. “You’ve seen innards fall out of a man’s stomach but food disgusts you?”
Finnian smacks his fist onto the wood, rattling the plates and silverware. “No speaking of innards at the table.”
“When did I become the enemy?” Ryder shouts incredulously.
“Change of plans.” I stand from the table, drinking game forgotten, clasping my plate and chalice in each hand and biting down on the neck of the wine bottle so Saskia and I don’t have to walk for refills. We sink onto the couch and get comfortable, clinking our glasses and filling them again.
The kitchen, sitting room, and dining area are all connected, so despite us moving away from the men, we didn’t get far, and we certainly don’t get silence. Ryder’s chair screeches as he abruptly stands and carries his dinner the short distance, plopping down on the floor across from us. “Keep pouring, sunshine.”
I look right at him while drinking straight from the bottle. Finnian squeezes into the spot beside me, and Cayden takes the chair closest to the fireplace.
“I set some goats loose in the field for Sorin,” Cayden says.
“They’re so adorable, though.” Finnian groans, and I pat him on the shoulder.
“You can try to corral them while a dragon chases you for interfering with the hunt.” Cayden doesn’t bother looking up from his food while gesturing to the window. “We can watch.”
“And you’ll be out there saving his ass as soon as Elowen starts screaming,” Ryder jests, and Cayden smacks him on the back of the head, causing them both to delve into laughter that the rest of us join in on.
Life is made up of a series of moments and can change in a minute. I’ve never known what tomorrow or even the next hour will bring—death, tragedy, or something else entirely. But on my worst days, sometimes it’s the people I’m with who make it better.
“I’ll show you to your rooms,” I say once the ale and wine are gone and fatigue weighs on us all, leading them down the long hall that branches off into several rooms. The threadbare carpet that was once bright red is now a washed-out pink, most likely bleached from the sun and worn down by boots. “There are more blankets in the cupboard and extra wood beside every fireplace.”
Ryder rubs his stomach while stumbling into his room, and Saskia claims the one beside his. The accommodations are plain, nothing more than a bed and dresser, but it’ll do. Finnian opens his door and sighs. “I haven’t missed that lumpy thing.”
“You sleep like the dead and I’m sure your snores will be vibrating the floorboards soon enough.”
“I don’t snore that loud.” He chuckles, but it soon dies out when I don’t respond, and my smirk grows in the silence. “Ellie.” My childhood nickname is drenched in betrayal. “How could you never tell me?”
“It’s comforting.” I innocently shrug. “It’s like sleeping close to a big bear.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost all capacity to form an intelligent thought, and I pull Cayden into my room, giggling to myself as I shutthe door. “The bed is much smaller than you’re used to, and your feet will hang off the edge, but—”
“It’s fine.” He unhooks the sword from his waist and sits down as he glances around my room, taking in the book stacks, chair, and small paintings in the corners of the walls that I did when I was bored. Sparse jewelry is piled into a bowl on my nightstand splattered with candlewax from nights I spent reading. “The first place I could afford was a glorified closet in a rat-infested building.”
I grimace. “Was there at least a window?”
“Yes, though it wasn’t much of a luxury unless you wanted to smell the filth of the streets or listen to the shouting drunks.”
“How old were you?”
His brow furrows as he does the math in his head, and I glue my hands to my sides to keep from reaching forward to smooth it out. “Around fifteen.” My stomach drops. “Don’t give me that look.”
“I’m not giving you any look.” I avert my eyes and step over to the book stacks, running my fingers along the spines like greeting old friends.
“You wish to share a bed?”
I glance over my shoulder while undoing the braid Hyacinth did this morning and massaging my roots. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“You don’t have servants here,” he says. “Isn’t that why you wanted to share a bed in Vareveth? To avoid gossip if a servant entered our chambers and saw me sleeping on the floor?”
“Oh, right.” I rise to my feet, tossing my hair behind my shoulders and clasping my hands. My bed here is also much smaller, so there’s no way we’d be able to sleep beside each other and not touch. “I’ll show you to a different room.”
“You misunderstand me.” He cuts into my path and grabs my wrist before I can twist the brass knob. “I’m staying in this room. The house isn’t warded, we’re in foreign territory, and although our enemies are miles away, we’re still at war. I’m not taking any chances with your safety. I’ll sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable.”
He’s so close, looking at me with eyes that make me feel like I’ve just stepped in front of a fire after trekking through a storm.
