Page 172 of A Warrior's Fate

There was a chuckle and the sound of an over-exaggerated inhale. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Isla looked to Rhydian as he rested beside her on the rail. “I see what Davi means when she describes it as a sewer.”

“It’s nature,” Rhydian said, brandishing a grin. One that felt all too manufactured. He’d been off ever since the bar, and his unease made its appearance every so often with random frowns and pensive looks, much like his brothers, which he rarely lent himself to.

“Tired?” he asked her.

Isla rubbed her eyes. Small talk was welcomed. “I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you haven’t gotten much sleep.” Another voice from behind them.

Isla turned just as Ameera approached to settle at her other side. Though, unlike her and Rhydian, the general remained forward, keeping a dubious eye on the deck and the few people on it.

Isla couldn’t help but catch the slight innuendo in her tone. Deadly when she so desperately wanted to cling to any thoughts other than the horrors that her mind was spitting. She tried to will away any of the memories of her and Kai’s time in the hotel that the words had spurred, but she was weak.

She gave into the phantom caress of her mate’s fingers, of his mouth. Allowed his words, wicked and tender, his actions, gentle and rough, to consume her consciousness.

A shiver traveled down Isla’s spine, and she suddenly became very aware—too aware—that he was nowhere nearby. And she wanted him. That primal part of her called for him. In a flash of heat and an almost delirium-inducing way—

“Oh, Goddess,” Ameera grumbled, snapping Isla from her fantasy, though not entirely.

The warmth Isla had felt all over her body bathed her cheeks. Was it obvious where her mind had gone? “Sorry.”

Ameera waved it off. “Honestly, I’m surprised he let you go. Newly-mated men are typically cranky, territorial, sex-crazed bastards.” She nodded towards Rhydian. “I didn’t see you for days after you and Davi got together. Jonah even had to come stay at my place to save his sanity.”

Rhydian opened his mouth as if to protest her claim but promptly closed it. The smallest grin played across his mouth as if he were recalling the memories himself, and then his only response was a shrug.

If only she and Kai had the time to whisk off for days.

“The four of you are going to be insufferable when the season rolls around,” Ameera grumbled, referring to the dawn of spring when all wolves sought another, but mated couples ended up in an absolute lust-filled frenzy. “Though I suppose we’ll need an heir, and I’m sure Marin will want you two to have one as soon as possible.”

The word made Isla’s heart stop.

An heir.

She felt every muscle in her body tighten.

An heir. A child. A little her and Kai.

Her, a…mother.

She struggled to swallow as her heart gave an unsteady beat. As a part of her she’d calloused gave way. A deep hollowness—one she hadn’t felt in years and years—began forming in her chest.

And the feeling remained there—festering, intensifying—as Ameera and Rhydian found themselves lost in conversation about sports games and gambling.

Glancing back at the water, new memories rolled through Isla’s head. Memories that were vague and carried a stiffness because when Isla envisioned her mother, Apolla only appeared as clear and rigid as her poses in photos. She was the honey of her hair, the blue of her eyes, the radiance of her smile, and the tightness with which she embraced her children in each image.

Isla could no longer recall the nuances of her face, the feel of her warmth, the inflections of her voice. Did she remember what her voice sounded like at all?

It had nearly been a decade since that night she’d last tucked her into bed before her unit had gone off and no one heard from them again. No sign of anything, until the day her father felt their bond break and her mother fade away. Until she and Sebastian nearly lost him, too.

Biting down hard on the inside of her cheek, Isla refused to gaze at the sky. It would be impossible to keep it together if she even thought of sending up another plea. For a sign. For reassurance. For her mother, wherever she dwelled, to tell her how to do this. Any of this. Being a queen would be hard enough, but everything else? To be a good mate, to be a good mother herself?

The loud whistle of the ferry broke Isla from her thoughts. She shot her head up and tears she hadn’t realized had been forming slid down her cheeks. She brushed them away hurriedly, hoping her companions hadn’t noticed.

Forcing herself to find some peace, to forget, Isla instead focused on the golden aura of lamps and lanterns as they approached Abalys’s docks. Even from their distance, she could tell it was nothing like Mavec. Maybe the stench wasn’t as horrible as Davina had described, but it certainly was—acquired. Isla had no choice but to embrace it as the boat came to a halt, unable to continue forward as the town closed in on their path, narrowing the river to nothing but canals.

Only one man was waiting for them at the dock as the engine cut out, and he moored the boat before the ferry whistled once more. Isla hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d become to its whirring.

---