Page 73 of Oathborn
“Then it will be my turn again next,” she teased, pulling the blanket around them both. “You were a soldier, Yansin. Whatever happened during the war is in the past. Stay with me here in the present. Please.”
“As you wish,” he murmured, halfway between a yawn and a sigh. Nuzzling closer, he let out a breath deep enough for his shoulders to shake. Unlike the previous tremors, this one released all his tension, his pain. His body relaxed, the tension sliding from him like a snowdrift in spring.
Soon, his slow, steady heartbeat lulled her to sleep.
Sometime later, Zari startled awake at a strange noise. “What was—” she stopped, realizing the space next to her was empty. “Yansin? Where—oh.”
She spotted him leaning against a nearby tree. A half-smoked cigarette resting between his fingers, he stared out into the woods with a quiet intensity. Despite being only a few inches taller than her, and certainly no broader, his easy confidence radiated a sense of protection. “Don’t worry, my brave warrior. That was a snow owl.”
“I’ve never seen one.” In the capital, she’d gotten used to dealing with only pigeons—the fat, winged rats that flocked everywhere in the city—and the rare robin.
“It is a magnificent bird with feathers as bright as moonlight. Its call tells you all is well, that it watches from above on a peaceful night.”
“You can understand birds?” Was that a fae trait she’d not known of?
“No, no, I talk only to cats.” Laughing, Yansin added, “Though they don’t listen.” When another animal’s noise echoed, he held up his hand until the sound stopped. “That’s the cooing of a rock dove settling down with her fledglings for the night.”
He crossed to her side and sat down, pulling the blanket around them both. The scent of woodsmoke, and something spicier and sweeter, perhaps from his cigarette, enveloped her. He smoothed a hand over her hair. “Forgive me for waking you. I thought I’d heard someone approaching, but I was wrong.”
Seeking his warmth, she nestled against his side. Yansin’s smile softened, as if he took just as much comfort from her closeness as she found in his. Shehoped he did. Perhaps together they could chase the grief of each other’s past away.
As they sat, his arms around her, her cheek to his chest, it struck Zari just how alone they were. Here in the woods, only the snow owl watched from above. There was no one to judge her if they returned to their earlier passionate pursuit.
Even the thought of it made her skin flush, a hot pulse spreading through her, the unfamiliar ache of desire fanning into urgent need. Did he feel it too? Did he notice the shift in the air between them, the tension just beneath the surface? She dared to glance up, only to find him looking down at her, with that familiar grin that was both knowing and tender.
Some of the other nurses had talked about stealing kisses. The phrase had never made sense until now. Each one was precious, rare, something any thief would desire… and just like theft, utterly wrong. Rhydonian society did not look kindly on women who let their desires run away from their better judgment.
Holding her close, with his chin resting on the top of her head, he said, “I’m afraid I cannot remain at your side for much longer.”
“Why? I thought you—”
“Have other obligations,” he cut her off. “I told you there is someone I am looking for. I fear they will draw closer, and it would not be wise for us to be found together.”
While the fire crackled in front of them, he lifted her hand and brushed a kiss over her wrist. Despite the sparks racing down her spine from his tender touch, she couldn’t help but stare at her Oathborn mark. She, too, had a future that was far from certain.
“If you wake and I am not here,” he said, “know that it is for your own safety.”
Why did she feel thatifwas closer to awhen?“How am I supposed to sleep, knowing you’ll leave in the morning?”
“The same way I will, knowing I’ll have to leave.” Yansin’s fingers tightened around hers. “Trust that as the moon pulls the tide, fate will bring us back together.”
Chapter twenty-eight
Tobias
Tobias wasn’t a city kid. He’d grown up on the beaches of Karsic, fishing, digging for supposed lost treasures, and making forts out of driftwood. The capital city always felt too drab, too dour, too overwhelming for him. Still, he’d rather be there than deep in the northern forests, close to the Gloaming itself.
The pine trees pressed in on every side, tall and unfamiliar, their branches knitting together so tightly that the sunlight barely touched the mud at his boots. In fact, mud coated everything that wasn’t already damp from misty fog. Miserable, stinking, awful mud. He shifted the weight of his pack and fell into step behind the others.
The Crimsons moved more independently than other soldiers, each one trained to scout ahead and sweep for threats. Still, they had a rhythm to their movements, the flow of those who had traveled long distances, and survived many battles, together.
Tobias tried to copy the ease of their stride, but every snapped twig beneath his boot made him flinch. At least Javen wasn’t here to watch him blunder. The captain had once more vanished back into the misty overgrowth, his plans known only to him. Even the Crimsons exchanged a few murmuring whispers about his departure.
“Lockwood said to let him be,” Drace muttered. “He’s got his own orders.”
“Sure he does,” Erik replied. “Gets rid of his Iron Kestrel badge and still thinks he’s got the full latitude of options to do as he wishes.”
Tobias lifted his head. The Iron Kestrel was a badge signifying the wearer’s first fae kill. As far as he knew, no one except the Crimsons ever was given one. “Was he a Crimson?”
