Page 33 of Thorns & Fire
Another derisive laugh escaped her.‘That’syour argument?A technicality on how many times you actually fucked me?’
He flinched at her coarse words.‘I’m here to protectyou, not your feelings, Embervale.’
‘Feelings?I have none of those left for you, Bear Slayer, beyond resentment that you’re here at all.’
She hadn’t realized how close they were standing, that she could feel the warmth radiating from his bare chest, that she was craning her neck to meet his furious stare.He was angry?Good.That made two of them, and she wasn’t done.
‘Perhaps this was all some big elaborate game to get under myskirts.To tell me one night wasn’t enough, only to get exactly what you wanted.The famous ladies’ man did exactly what he did best and then moved on.’
Torj’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her apron and pulling her close, so close she could almost taste him.‘Have I ever doneanythingto give you that impression?Did you truly think that fucking you once – or twice – or a thousand times, had I been so lucky – would make me want to fuck you less?’
Wren’s chest heaved as her breath caught in her throat, her traitorous body responding to his closeness.She was grateful that he couldn’t see her thighs squeezing together.
‘I couldn’t give a shit about what you want,’ she said harshly.
In the distance, thunder cracked through the sky, but neither poisoner nor Warsword looked away from one another.
Anticipation and desire flooded Wren’s senses while the rest of her became dangerously taut.For a moment, all she could do was stare into those deep-sea eyes, her words lodged in her throat as the intensity of him overwhelmed her.
A current sang between them, drawing them closer still.Gods, how was this fair?After everything, she still craved him.Still wanted him beyond reason.He had denied any sort of bond between them, and yet...
His gaze dipped to her mouth.
Wren sucked in a trembling breath.
‘You should sit for a while,’ she told him, pushing him away, her body still buzzing.
Seemingly stunned, the Bear Slayer took a step back, shaking his head.‘We need to get to the turn-off.Kipp and Dessa will be waiting.And the sooner you get what you need from Delmira, the better.We need to put a stop to all this madness before it gets any worse.’
With those words, Wren was catapulted back to where the weight of the world was on her shoulders.So far, she had failed to deliver what Drevenor and the midrealms had asked of her, and this...this was her last chance to get it right before everything went to complete shit.Everything depended on what awaited her in Delmira...Scorched lands and endless stretches of nothing.
As though sensing her thoughts, the Warsword spoke.‘What was it like?Living there after the war?’
‘Peaceful,’ she lied.
‘A strange description for a kingdom with a reputation dark enough to keep even the bravest folk away,’ Torj said dryly.
‘Superstition,’ she shot back.‘I am no more damaged than I was when I arrived, and I spent five years there.’Wren inwardly cringed at her choice of words.She grew more damaged with every passing day.
‘Didn’t say I believed it,’ he replied.‘But it’s the reason no one crosses its borders.Everyone still believes that shadow magic curses its lands.’
A poisoned land for a poisoner, Wren thought.It was as fitting as it had ever been.Only now she wouldn’t be crossing its plains alone, and it was not just her fate hanging in the balance.
She faltered.‘What if I can’t find the plant I need?’How long ago had she harvested the sample she’d used in her experiments?Did she even remember the right spot?What if it wasn’t by the cottage as she thought?She hadn’t been in the best mental place back then, and Delmira was just one ruined indistinct patch of land after the next...
‘Then you’ll make it work some other way,’ Torj told her, struggling to get his arms into a new shirt.
Wren clicked her tongue in frustration.‘Here.’She snatched the material from him and helped him into it from behind, her hands grazing the heated skin of his muscular arms as she did.Careful of his bandaged wounds, she lifted the fabric over his broad shoulders.
‘I trust you can button it yourself,’ she said, averting her eyes from his gloriously tattooed chest as she finished.
‘I’ll manage,’ he replied roughly.The Bear Slayer had similarly avoided her eyes, and instead stared down at the ground.
With a sigh, she led Torj’s stallion, Tucker, to the fallen tree, so the warrior could use it as a platform.
‘I can mount my own horse,’ Torj grumbled.
‘Suit yourself.You’ll only aggravate those burns,’ Wren told him, returning to her mare.
