And I just…
Couldn’t.
I didn’t realise I was backing away until Sorcha glanced my way and offered a soft, weary smile. I turned my back before I could even remember to return it. I had to move, the echoes of that morning already ringing in my ears above the deep murmur of the Priest.
The Serpent’s doing.
Serpent.
In cold blood.
Have to assume, don’t we?
We can’t rule it out.
My head was swimming, and I found I had to catch at the door to keep from swaying as I stood aside to let the few stragglers from the dining hall pass into the tavern. Once they had passed, cups of tea in hand, the dining hall stood empty. For a moment, panic fluttered in my belly. There was so little to focus on in here, the ringing silence doing little to drown out the Priest’s voice nor the ones in my memory. I went to the table and started stacking the used plates and cups, making more clatter than may have been entirely necessary.
“Are you alright, Rosie?”
I hadn’t heard him come in, but for some reason I wasn’t surprised. It was as though some peripheral part of me had expected him to follow, and I didn’t startle when his lyrical voice washed over me. I didn’t look up, but felt him move around the table to catch my eye.
“I’m fine.”
“Really?
Without answering, I reached over to grab another used plate, but the Captain was faster. He took the dish from me, and when his fingers brushed mine, Flame erupted in the cavern of my chest that had been so black and cold since Tanner’s death. I snatched my hand back. His eyes narrowed on the gesture, then turned to my face.
“Let me help you. I haven’t seen you sit down once today.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Have you even eaten yet?”
I snapped, temper breaking at the same moment I gave in to the magnetic pull and let my gaze lock on his.
“Dagda’s arse, what are youdoing?”
He just stared back, jaw set. Not cowed, not alarmed at the dangerous thinning of my voice, but stubborn. As if it didn’t matter what I said; he’d decided he was going to help me and that was that. It made my blood boil with an anger untouched by my Flame.
“Let me spare you some hassle,” I said evenly, even as irritation bled heat into my cheeks and neck. “You made me come in one late night Yuletide fumble. It was fun. Butonelittle orgasm doesn’t suddenly give you responsibility over my wellbeing.”
“Little?” He cut in dryly.
“I said I was fine, and I meant it.”
The stubborn expression did not wane; if anything, a muscle jumped beneath his beard as though I’d only made him clench his jaw tighter.
“Look, what happened between us was–”
“Oh gods,” I groaned, hands flying up to press into my eyes until black spots burst behind my lids. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Exasperated, he turned a frown around the room, looking to an invisible audience for validation before he reminded me; “You brought it up!”
“Within context! My frienddied, while I was getting felt up in a cupboard by the man responsible for protecting him. Forgive me if I’m not really in the mood to relive that particular sequence of poor choices.”
The determined set of his brow finally shifted; shot up. He looked as though I had slapped him.
“Rosie, fucking hell,” he breathed, so quietly that a little flare of guilt nestled against the anger within me. “What happened to Tanner was awful, but it wasn’t my fault – and it certainlywasn’t yours.”
