Page 50 of A Sword of Ice
She shot him a look of impatience and he realized, with a jolt, that he could get used to this. To this banter, the teasing. He’d never wanted a female in his life longer than it took to fuck them. With Iona, he wanted more. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know her, that she didn’t know him.
They were mates, and the rest could come later.
“Finding my familiar is the most important thing. We’ve wasted enough fucking time already.” Her hands dropped to her thighs and began a relentless tapping rhythm. He’d noticed it before but didn’t comment on it. “My familiar could be hurt. So don’t even try to convince me to stop, because I won’t.”
He wanted to, but he also recognized the depth of the warrior’s stubborn ferocity in her gaze. He recognized it, had seen it before on the battlefield. Duty came before everything else, even ones own well-being. He’d gone through battles with broken arms and infected wounds more often than he could count.
Who was he to deny that to his mate when she was on a mission, when determination burned deep into the depths of her eyes?
“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?” Julius demanded. “Let’s go find your familiar.”
He almost didn’t see her smile because it was replaced just as quickly with anger. She pushed her way past him and out the door, not sparing a glance to their gawking companions.
“Let’s go,” she demanded. “We have a boat to steal.”
26
Thieving Ultimatum
“Why are we stealing a boat again?” Clay asked for what felt like the tenth time in the past few minutes. And since she’d already answered him every other time, she decided to ignore him just then.
Instead, she focused on the pain thrumming from her shoulder to her back. The tip of Petey’s sword had gone through her shoulder, not enough to do lasting damage but enough tohurt.Agony radiated and she felt the blood pooling against her clothes, staining her coat. She should have taken the time to at least clean the wound, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop at all.
They were at the docks, staring at the boat Iona meant to steal. The others were at her back, staring either at her wound or over her shoulder at the large metal boat.
She felt a hand prod at her side, and she whipped her head around to glare at Clay. “What?” she hissed, more out of pain than annoyance with him, though she was growing quite vexed with the little lord.
“What’s the plan here?” he pressed.
“We kill that piece of shit, take his boat, and sail to the West Isles and get my familiar back from the Kurreen.” She felt a pang, stronger than even the wound on her shoulder when she thought about what her familiar must be going through.
When he’d arrived, he had been held down in wire, bleeding and fighting for survival. He would land right back into the thick of that violence again.
“Two things. What’s the Kurreen, and instead of stealing a boat couldn’t maybe Uric transport us there?” Clay asked hopefully.
Iona didn’t know the extent of the magic they wielded. Shula was a fire Elemental, Julius had abnormal strength, that much was obvious, but the others? Due to Clay’s question, she gauged that Uric had transportation abilities. Useful for other occasions, she supposed. Useless in this one, though.
“The Kurreen are mercenaries. As for having the gloomy bastard transport us? It won’t work.” She ignored Uric’s indignant growl and continued, “The West Isles are said to have iron gates that are a hundred feet tall. Iron weakens magic; we’d be lucky to get within a hundred feet of the Isles, and even if we did, we’d land in the predator-infested waters.” She fought back a shiver as the memories threatened to assault her mind. “I don’t swim.”
She could feel inquiring gazes on her, but she ignored it, intent on the pulsing in her shoulder as it kept her grounded. It served to remind her that whatever torment she experienced would never be half as bad as what her familiar was likely going through. The image of fur flaying from his flesh burst behind her eyes, and she bit back her own groan of pain.
She couldn’t feel anything in their bond, having not had the chance to explore more of it before he’d been taken away. She was empty, hollow; could scarcely sense the phantom echoes of his presence somewhere inside her.
“We are wasting time,” Uric growled. She turned to look, watching him shift, tilting his body towards Valerio’s. She wondered if he even realized he did that; always angled himself closer to his prince. In the short time since she’d known them, it had grown obvious. She swore if she looked hard enough, she could almost believe that it wasn’t just a gesture of protection, but something more. “We have a mission, my prince, and this is not it. After we retrieved her, we were meant to look for the next Elemental before the Emperor of Illyk finds them. We cannot traipse across the sea looking for a fucking bear.”
Iona grinded her teeth together. She wanted nothing more than to slam her fist straight into his face but held back the urge. Mana should be proud of her restraint, she thought.
“That ‘fucking bear’ is my familiar,” Iona gritted out. “And you don’t have to be here. No one is forcing you to come with me.”
Uric sneered. He was as pale as death, as deadly looking as the reaper of human legends. Dressed in all black, colors that only made him look nearly translucent, he was little more than a ghost. “As if we had a choice to leave you behind, Elemental.”
Iona’s eyes rolled. “I have a fucking name. Try using it, yeah?” Then she turned to the prince and she could see him contemplating Uric’s words. Her eyes narrowed. “Look, I get you’re on a timeline or whatever. Butnothingis more important than my familiar right now. If you don’t want to help, don’t, but know that I won’t help you, either.”
She was skating on thin ice, unsure how they would meet her thieving plot and ultimatum. They overpowered her seven to one, and there was nothing stopping them from trying to take her by force.
Her chin tilted up at the thought.Let them try.She wasn’t some meek female they could cart around or bind in chains. She had a will of her own, and she would give them chaos if they dared.
She made sure her eyes conveyed that, too.
