Page 104 of A Dance With Fire
But he knew there was potential inside her.
He glimpsed at it while she fought. There was a ferocity she hid that came out in her honey colored eyes, glowing like fire that didn’t want to be tempered, but she snuffed out her own light and she didn’t need to.
Ryker prowled away from her, feeling her gaze on his back for a moment. When he reached the fire, he sat across from Clay, who was finally settling in to sleep.
“Tact, Ryker,” Clay muttered.
“What?”
“You’re about as gentle as a lion tearing through prey.”
Ryker scowled at Clay. “What the fuck are you going on about?”
Clay sighed and slumped on his back on the ground. “Females like gentle words and to be treated delicately. And you’re… well… none of those things.”
“Why the fuck would I be that?” His hackles rose defensively. He wasn’t sure why. Probably because he didn’t need a pretty, noble Fae to list all his shortcomings. As if Ryker didn’t know what the fuck he looked like or that the shitty circumstances in life had made him bitter. Still, he was offended.
“If you ever want her to like you, ease up.”
“I don’t care if she likes me or not.”
“Riiiight.”
“I’m serious.” Was he? It didn’t matter anyway. She had made it abundantly clear she was leaving. She’d rather live a mundane life at the fucking circus than fight for her people.
“Okay, Ryker. But if you keep acting like that, then she’ll never want to stay and help us.” Clay didn’t say anything else. He turned, giving Ryker his back and went silent.
Ryker laid against the ground, staring up at the sky through the canopy of tree leaves. He hated to contemplate Clay’s words because he was…well,Clay.But they resonated in his mind over and over again.Washe being too hard on the Fire Dancer?
Did it even matter?
He was hard on her because he could see the potential she didn’t. Because she locked up so much of herself. And maybe because, in part, she reminded him of Mairin.
The two were vastly different; Mairin was sweet and the Fire Dancer—Shula—was made of tougher stuff. But he saw similarities. The vulnerability, the fear. It was the type of thing that could get Shula killed. Just like it had killed Mairin.
He let his eyes drift closed. After so long of running and staying awake, exhaustion pulled at him from every angle. He didn’t want to give in. Not when Shula was awake and alone guarding their little camp. He wasn’t sure he could trust her to keep them safe. Sure, she knew how to fight, but her magic would be a greater asset against humans any day.
He thought of her as he drifted off to sleep and began to dream.
* * *
Long auburn hairdrifted with the breeze. Strands wet with blood clung to pale skin. Mairin always had the smooth, porcelain complexion that was so easy to blush and quicker to burn with anger. But this paleness was different from normal.
It lacked that brightness that gave it life and instead was clammy, cold,dead.
Hair stuck to her wounded cheeks, held in place with blood. So much blood. Ryker’s big hand framed her lacerated face as he shoved the strands aside, smearing crimson against her cold skin.
A sound erupted from his throat that he didn’t recognize before he even realized that he was the one making it.
Iron manacles were shackled around her wrists, holding her arms up so she was suspended from the ground and hanging on a thick branch of an old oak tree.
It was like a salt-coated knife digging into an already opened wound.
He’dtoldher. Why hadn’t she just listened like she was supposed to?
“Mairin.” Her name shook on his tongue. “Mairin.”
Her head hung forward, her arms bent at an unnatural angle; he was unsure if they were injuries she’d sustained because of the way she was hanging or before…
