Page 88 of Unrivaled
“Warring factions.”
I reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.“She isn’t a worg, Kael.I promise.”
As he studied my expression, I felt sick at the realization of how worried he’d been and for how long.He’d never asked me, though.He’d never put me between my oath and my family.
“She’s Matri’sion,” I said, the words coming all too easily.
From the way he drew a sharp breath in, I realized the thought had never occurred to him.It probably wouldn’t have occurred to me, either, if Chay hadn’t been so blunt with it.
“The Duke can’t know,” Kaelson said, the words a prayer.“He can never know.”
“How can we avoid it, with the way she keeps sticking her neck out so publicly?”I asked, bitterness creeping into the words.“Come on.No one’s hearing anything.Let’s get back inside.”
“The Wife’s tits, Tom, she’s fuckingMatri’sion?”
I tossed the knife back to him.“Where’d you get that?”
“Saved my life north of Wolfswail,” he said, the words so breathless, so quick, I couldn’t not believe him.Instantly, I saw him struggling to regain what he’d let slip.“It’s a good knife.They’re slippery, Southerners.One got too close.”
He’d been toe to toe with a worg, and I’d never heard of it.
“It’s okay.”I offered him a hand up, levering him from the step.“’Tis a night for secrets.”
“You know I’m good with ’em,” he muttered.“And…I know you are, too.”
I just nodded.As I walked, I kicked my heart around between my feet.The cold crept between the threads of my cloak and up under the hem.I braced against it.
“The lady almost stabbed me in the chest earlier.Never thought it’d be the heir’s hand on the blade that killed me, let me say.Made me feel quite off-balance.Even after watching her practice her footwork while she was distracted.She’s getting good.”
I glanced at the keep crouching below us, its arms thrown out to snatch up the lower parts of the cliff to hold in its stony grasp.“Chay’s been teaching her.”
“Chay?”he demanded, coming to an abrupt halt that hurt my knee to replicate.“Not Isolde?”
“Both,” I admitted.
“Chay?After we put the fear of the Son into him?”
“Pretty sure.He’s keeping his hands to himself, at least.”
Kaelson muttered something I opted not to hear.Then, louder, “Why teach yourself to be a soldier when we need a general?”
I couldn’t admit that I’d never thought to ask that.“She’s a lady.”
“Too late for that, isn’t it?”he asked me.“But we can still steer her true, Tom.”He blew out a hard breath.“Matri’sion.By the Son’s unwashed ballsack, Tom.Matri’sion?”
“Careful,” I warned, working not to peer into the shadows around us.“She’s not a worg, but she may as well be.”
“I think I’d prefer it if she was,” he said, tossing the silver knife from one hand to the other.“I know how to take them down.”
I wasn’t going to be the one to explain to Kaelson that Isolde wasn’t someone we’d ever need to take down—she was here to stay.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
CHAY
Barloc created the war, but we paid for it.
—Southern saying
