She smiled brightly. “Don’t let it go to your head. I just find you entertainingly ridiculous—wise one moment and idiotic the next.”
“Ah.” Thom grinned, settling back to rest against his palms. “Yes, well, I won’t miss you.”
“No?”
“Hm-mm. You’re far too annoying, always making smart comments and encouraging me. I rather liked the cynicism and angst I harbored before meeting you.”
“You could always return to it,” she suggested.
“Without you around to torment me, I think I might actually manage it.”
She returned his teasing smile. “Try not to forget everything I’ve taught you,” she said pleasantly. “You’ve become a reasonable man, and I’d hate to see my hard work undone.”
Thom chuckled, looking out over the crashing waves of the Allundan coastline. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
While most of their team waited far below, Ethenn and Deckard kept watch on the cliffside. Neither thought a fire or a tent was wise; instead, they took turns resting under the stars in the high grasses while the other kept watch. The night was cold, restless, and never-ending.
The bruising on Ethenn’s ribs caused him to grimace with almost every breath. The pain was a constant reminder of Ilain. He didn’t begrudge her inability to heal all his wounds. If anything, he was more annoyed that she’d healed him at all.
She was being oddly gracious about his choice to break their betrothal. He’d taken away her lifelong dream. She deserved to be angry.
“I care for those who care for me.”
Yes, she deserved to be angry.
But then, so did he.
Ilain had used him and his affection from the start. And when he’d tried to do the right thing, she’d tried to manipulate him once again.
So many of her words had filled Ethenn with false hope. She wanted him. They were meant for one another. She loved him.
They were lies. Manipulations to get what she wanted.
In the new morning, Ethenn sat on the edge of the cliff, his feet dangling over the side. Thousands of feet below, the rocky shore of the beach was covered by the high tide. Deckard sat several paces back, reading one of his books on Space magic. While the Mage sat in the shade of a tree, Ethenn let the sun beat down on him. He wasn’t concerned about being spotted. Since he’d tapped into his Warrior magic the night before, thereby sharpening his senses, he’d see anyone coming before they got close.
After several hours of silence, Deckard came to join him on his watch, though he remained farther back from the edge. “Anything?” he asked.
Ethenn shook his head, gaze catching on the outcropping where Ilain and Thom sat up the slope of the shoreline. He’d seen Brea climb the rock face near them an hour ago. She slipped in and out of his sight every so often, but the last he’d seen, she was headed their way.
“May I ask a question?” Deckard said.
Ethenn glanced over his shoulder at the colonel. “About Ilain?” he assumed.
Deckard nodded.
Turning back to the ocean, Ethenn sighed. “Sure.”
“Who broke off the betrothal?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
Ethenn tightened his jaw. He didn’t mind Deckard asking. If he were to speak with anyone, he thought the colonel would have the best answers for him. Ethenn looked up to Deckard. The man was everything honorable, just, and good, while he was everything broken, faulty, and weak.
“You’ll burn in hell, you wretch.”
