Page 21 of Ember and Eclipse
“Your favorite merc,” he drawled with a crooked smile.
Chapter XIII
Themercenaryhadadark beard, cropped short and neat against his face. His black hair was pulled up into a knot on the top of his head, and though he looked different than what she remembered, she would recognize those striking blue eyes anywhere.
When she escaped Romul, it had been in the back of a merchant’s carriage, and Silas had been one of the mercenaries accompanying him through Heigar’s Pass. He’d seen her in one of her darkest moments and showed her kindness, bringing her scraps and later escorting her to the Mark while expecting nothing in return.
The next tune picked up, a sultry and low-noted song, and he moved his hands to her waist.
“Dance with me and tell me where you’ve been.” He took her in—from her hair down to her lips, her throat where the emerald sat, and to what he could see of her body. “You look good. Healthy. Happy?” The last was said like a near question, as if he were asking something else altogether.
She looked toward the hunter, whose head was tilted as he looked between her and the mercenary. A predator’s stare, daring her.
Silas followed her gaze. “Shit, are you…?” His hands loosened on her waist, uncertainty and hurt flashing across his features.
“I’m—” But what could she say? If she told him that Devdan was taking her back to Romul against her will, could he help her? If she said she was married, Silas would respectfully depart, leaving her to her fate. They were swaying to the music, offbeat and in the way of other couples who were doing the correct steps.
But before she could say anything else, Devdan was there. “I suggest taking your hands off my wife.”
“Wife?” Silas looked from her to the Wolf of Romul, his disbelief written clearly across his dark features.
Rel wished she could shout the truth burning in her lungs. But she didn’t want to involve him, didn’t want to see him get hurt. So, despite how much it pained her, she stepped away from the mercenary.
Clearing her throat, she said, “This is my husband, Devdan.” The words were bitter in her mouth.
Silas put his palms up, a tinge of pink showing beneath his beard, as he took a step away from her. “I apologize, I wasn’t aware…”
Devdan stepped between her and Silas without even looking at him.
She tried to look around him, but he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into him.
Her body was flush against his. She placed her hands on his chest and attempted to push away but froze as he dipped his head to speak into her ear. “If you want to keep him alive, I suggest you stop looking as if I have taken away your only chance of survival.”
She stilled against him. Silas had already moved away from them, and she saw him return to a table out of the corner of her eye.
“Besides,” Devdan continued, “it would look odd if I let my wife dance with a blushing idiot. The men at the table behind me had already taken note of the fact.”
She tipped her head back, looking up at him. “He isn’t an idiot,” she hissed, “and, well, perhaps we have an arrangement, and you like to share.”
“He is, and I’ve never been good at sharing. I’ve killed plenty of men for less.”
She believed him.
“You two know each other.” It wasn’t a question.
For Silas’ safety, she ignored him. “Since you scared off my dance partner, you’ll need to catch me.” She pressed on his chest more firmly until she could turn around in his hold, his hand tracing a path from her back to her stomach as she did.
As if she was actually his wife.
When he didn’t respond verbally or pick up the beat, she went for it anyway—stepping out, kicking one leg up, and falling back. There was a brief moment where she thought he might let her fall, but he wrapped both of his arms around her, righting her again and twisting her toward him perfectly timed to the beat.
He led her expertly through the next sequence of the song. Though her heart ached for a future she’d never live, the sheer ridiculousness of the moment didn’t pass her by. Even in the darkness of a cell or under the pain of torture, she would remember the fact that she manipulated her own bounty hunter into dancing with her. Despite herself, she tipped her head back and laughed.
The sound and feeling of it were strange to her, causing her to bury it as fast it had come up. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d laughed.
Devdan misstepped a moment later, jarring them. She clung to him instinctively, peering up at him, but any remark she had died in her lungs. Even as they fell back into the rhythm, he was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. It was an unsettling feeling, as if he could suddenly see more of her than she was ever willing to reveal.
When the song ended, he took her hand, pulling her toward the stairs.
