“Callum, you’ll stop her. Manos and I will follow. I want her unharmed.”
Callum glanced up from his knife. “You’re no fun at all.” A haughty grin displayed above his angled jaw.
Theo didn’t understand why the joke irked him so. It was Callum, he always had an odd way of delivering humor.
“I mean it.” Theo’s tone changed, not exactly threatening but nowhere near friendly. “Not a scratch.”
Callum waved off his captain, unbothered by the severity in his voice. “I got it, relax.”
“I don’t know about this one.” Manos joined Callum in the grass, brushing some stray leaves from his smooth hair. “I think her mind is gone. She might be a lost cause at this point. This despair... this anger she holds on to, it’s consumed her. Are you sure we should intervene at all? Maybe we should leave and just let her?—”
“No,” Theo interjected sharply.
Manos looked at him in question. “If she is what you claim... wouldn’t death be more peaceful?”
Theo had pondered the same many times over. Still he felt a chance.
Manos must have perused his thoughts, because he chose to ask nothing further. He rose to tend to their horses, ensuring they were fed and watered for the journey home.
The captain sat down, massaging the divot between his pectorals, trying to ease this new insistent ache. His eyes found that carriage below, his gaze damn near burning into the material, willing the person on the other side to not go through with her plan.
“If you go through with it,” he said in a hushed tone, “I’ll find you in the six myself and pull you back out.”
That’s when the doubts started to infiltrate his mind again. He could never truly wield her if she wasn’t willing, if she wasn’t worthy. She would be as good as dead anyway.
“Tonight then?” Callum asked coolly, lying flat in the grass, closing his eyes. As if now would be a perfect time to catch up on some sleep.
“Tonight,” Theo replied.
CHAPTERTEN
Callum looked toward the campfire. It was a flicker in the distance. The sun had set hours ago, and that wavering flame was barely holding on.
Any minute now.
He didn’t mean to come across like he didn’t care. He knew this was important. He had never seen his captain so ensnared before. He supposed he had a right to be.
Callum found it funny that he and Manos were asked to come bring home one lone girl. Usually when they were asked to tag along, it meant Callum had some dirty work to do—the things many didn’t have the stomach for. He wasn’t as familiar with the prophecy as the others, but for Theo to have asked both of them to come, the stories must be accurate.
Theo hadn’t moved from his spot, never taking his mismatched eyes off that travel party. One iris held a bronze hue, the other a glacier blue. Callum watched as every single one of Theo’s muscles tensed, those broad shoulders tightening.
He was restless, and Theo didn’t get restless.
Although he questioned this whole expedition, Callum trusted his captain with his life. After all, Theo had saved him the night he came—him and his brother.
It was maddening sometimes. The countless years of life, the repetitious nature of their existence. Like none of their actions mattered because ten, twenty, or fifty years down the road there would be another opponent, another problem. An endless cycle that Callum grew bored with, and when Callum was bored, he grew rash and careless.
He knew Theo felt it too. The monotony they had settled into was the price of living far too many lifetimes. It’s why he was such an insufferable ass half the time.
At least the beasts beyond the border wreaking havoc added some intrigue lately, a challenge. Callum loved hunting them down, reveling in the carnage. Fierce creatures nearly five times his size. They could be anything, really. There was no telling what new species would spawn from the east. The monsters had bred with each other over time, making whole new abominations.
Gods, mortals, and monsters—Callum believed he and his friends were a combination of all three.
I want her unharmed.
He rolled his dark eyes again at his captain’s words. Callum wasn’t even the most dangerous of the Troika, far from it. Theo was as brutal and mean as they came. It’s what made him a good leader—a damned good one.
Callum used his dagger to cut a small apple he had found into slices. He glanced upward, smirking as he put the sweet fruit between his lips.
