My grip tightens.
“But with all due respect,” I say, low and steady, “you’ll both just get in the wa—”
Vanth charges, spear at the ready, kicking up sand with his booted feet. I snarl and dart forward, dropping low and sweeping my leg out, knocking Vanth’s feet out from under him.
He drops like a boulder, flat on his back, mouth working like a fish out of water. His wide eyes draw wounded gulps of me looming over him, as though he can’t quite work out how he ended up down there, in the sand, with my sword kissing his carotid.
“What the fu—”
“You don’t touch him,” I hiss through clenched teeth, digging the sword a little deeper. “And if you insist on getting between us, that spear has to work its way throughmefirst. And then you’ll have to explain to your High Master why you impaled his promised. Do I make myself clear?”
He squirms a little. “Crystal.”
The word itches so much my upper lip peels back.
I release him from the nip of my blade, leaving a bead of blood dribbling down his neck. He leaps to his feet, wipes at the wound, and studies the red smear on his palm with an insulting amount of shock in his eyes.
“Go,” I tell a round-eyed Kavan who’s regarding me as if this is the first time he’s laid eyes on me. “Prompt the captain to prepare the ship. I won’t be long.”
He looks me up and down. “Cainon’s getting much more than he bargained for.”
It’s far from a compliment.
He stalks off toward the jetty with a narrow-eyed Vanth in tow, tossing cursory looks over his shoulder every few steps.
“I hope you’re ready to watch that ship sail away without you,” Baze volleys, snagging my full attention.
So this is how it’s going to go, then.
“I’m leaving of my own free will,” I counter, moving the majority of weight onto my strong leg and widening my stance, sharpening my focus. Assessing his every breath, every blink for signs of what to expect next.
If Baze is going to try and stop me from leaving this stretch of sand, I’ll have no choice but to fight.
“Only because you haven’t beenfully informed,” he snaps back, mimicking my motions, readying himself for a battle I doubt either of us wants. His shoulders flex as he passes his sword from one hand to the other, the gems on his ring glinting in the low light, catching my gaze.
Catching my interest ...
I slide my foot back half an inch, anchoring to the sand. “I’m afraid it’syouwho is uninformed, Baze.”
His lips curl up in a half sneer. “I doubt that.”
We leap forward at the same time, black swords crossing with a sharp, wooden clang that seems to echo down the beach and almost makes me gag.
Fucking Ebonwood.
We hold—stares as locked as our swords. Our muscles. Our warring resolve. Though where I’m sure and steady, I swear his hold is a little less stable than it usually is.
Than italwaysis.
“Don’t do this,” he grates out, his hot breath fogging the air.
I can see the torment in the depths of his eyes. Can see that he hates this just as much as I do—what this turn of events has done to everything we’ve built.
“It’s alreadydone,” I snip, referring to the cupla cinched around my wrist.
My life began to unravel the moment I accepted it, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. Not when so much is hinging on this union.
There’s suddenly a well of sentiment in his stare. “You don’t know what it’s like out there, Orlaith. You havenoidea what you’re up against.”
