“Men, search the camp,” he said. “Quietly. I don’t want panic.”
“For what, Commander?”
He looked back to the mark. “Draken scouts.”
Kara and Sienna fell silent. The captains looked at him questioningly.
“Sebastian, what makes you think–” Kara began.
“I’ve seen this before,” he said, pointing to the rock. “In the Isles. It’s a pathfinder’s mark, I’m sure of it.”
“But Sir, the rebels in the Isles–”
“Reportedly had Draken help,” Sebastian finished. “And I don’t think, given the situation, it’s an Isles rebel, do you?”
The man looked away quickly. “No, Sir.”
“Search now. And tell Sorrel to have eyes out on the ridges. Report back to me.”
The men disappeared without another word.
“You think they could be here in camp?” Kara asked.
Yes. I would be.
“I don’t know. But we’ll do a sweep, just to be safe.”
He tugged her closer. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight now. Sienna used the moment to take her leave, promising to speak again come morning.
“Keep your eyes open, Sienna,” Sebastian warned as she walked away.
“Already am,” she called back.
At sunset, not long after he’d given out his last orders, and informed his father of what he’d found, the two captains reported back.
Nothing.
He didn’t believe it.
But there was nothing more to be done. They’d used every tactic, every magic Vallenna had. There was no better way to defend the bay. And he’d walked every inch of it. But if a scout had gleaned some information, passed it on–
You live with it. No choice.
So instead Sebastian pulled Kara underneath the Fatàn shield, and once they were alone within their tent, he crushed her to him. He didn’t say it, but the truth pressed heavy on him – this could be their last evening.
“Nervous about tomorrow?” Kara asked, her voice muffled against him.
“No,” he lied. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”
He knew the bond would betray him, that she felt his fear, but she didn’t push. He loved her for that. Allowing him to keep his armour, even though she saw straight through it. But still, she clung to him as though she meant never to let him go. He didn’t want her to. The knowledge of tomorrow was inescapable. It made every touch, every kiss, urgent, desperate. And terrifying. Because it might be the last chance he’d ever have. So he poured all his love into her, until there was nothing but Kara Hale, the feel of her, her scent on his skin. Lavender and something uniquely her. And afterwards, when the storm in them finally settled, they lay together, bodies intertwined, the golden bond pulsing gently around them.
I love you, Kara.
I don’t want this to end.
He kissed her hair, breathing her in. She was utterly perfect. And his. How had he lived before this? Before her warmth, her strength, her unwavering faith in him? If the Four were listening, they could damn well hear him now:
This will not be my last night with her.
