Page 16 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

Bren let out a heavy breath, then nodded. We embraced once more then turned for the door back into the room.

“Well, Ruin—” I stopped two steps in the door.

The chair remained on the floor, the leather ties cut and discarded, the belts unbuckled and slung away from the chair.

Ruin was gone.

And as a new wash of rage threatened to boil my blood, the only thing that kept me from roaring my frustration was that in the bond, I felt Bren go cold.

7. Just for Show

SOUNDTRACK: One Last Breath by Tommee Profitt and Nicole Serrano

~ BREN ~

I needed to stop shaking. I really fucking needed to stop shaking.

Once we’d ascertained that Ruin was really gone, and not waiting in hiding for us, Donavyn urged me to change my clothes. He wanted to talk to the innkeeper, and send a message back to the king about Ruin’s presence, using the networks here in the city. Yet, he refused to leave me in the room alone. I swung between grateful and pissed that he wouldn’t leave me. But it meant I needed to change before we went downstairs.

Donavyn stood over me while I undressed, then quickly changed into the blouse and skirt. Or tried to. Once again, I hooked a toe on the waistband and overbalanced—this time because I was trying to pull the skirt up over my leathers and boots. Donavyn caught my elbow, so I didn’t fall. I cursed and yanked the skirt up, ignoring that crumbling feeling in my chest, fumbling with the buttons and hissing until Donavyn caught my hands again, and I fought him for a moment.

“I just need to get these stupid fucking—”

“Bren, look at me.”

I went still, no longer fighting him. His tone was soft. Soothing. Serious. And I was suddenly reluctant to meet his eyes, because it felt like ripping my chest open and exposing my heart.

‘Bren?’ he sent with quiet insistence.

When I finally looked up, his brows were heavy, shadowing his eyes. His forehead lined with concern.

‘I’ve got you. You’re safe.’

I swallowed back a lump the size of my fist and nodded. ‘I know.’

‘No, you don’t. But it’s true. Breathe for me. Long and deep. Count down from five… four… three…’

It was stupid. Ridiculous. Childish that his tenderness made me weaker. I wanted to fight, to grit my teeth and pull my hands out of his gentle grip. But when I tensed, he tightened his hold and shook his head.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said softly, his eyes clear but intense. “You get those buttons straight—I’ll help you if you need me to. Then you hold my hand and we’re going downstairs. Just a soldier with his young wife, remember?”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

“I’m going to have a very short, but very clear discussion with Horace—it’s not going to end well. But that’s not a problem. Then we’re leaving. And we’re never coming back to this place. Ever. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, now please, Bren. Breathe.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been holding the air in my lungs. It whooshed out, then I inhaled again. Donavyn kept talking to me calmly, slowly as he helped me get the buttons straight—because I’d buttoned the shirt in the wrong holes. Then, exactly as he’d promised, when I was ready, he gathered all the things into the bag he’d left there, hurriedly scrawled a message on a piece of parchment that he shoved deep in the bag, then slung it over his other shoulder, gripped my hand in his, and led me out of the room, down the stairs to the raucous tavern below.

My body wanted to shrink, but I just gripped Donavyn’s hand tighter, lifted my chin and focused on his back as he led me through the room, stopping at the bar to ask one of the barmaids to find Horace, right now.

The woman’s eyes widened. She didn’t even drop the cup and cloth she was using to dry it, just hurried out of the bar and returned moments later with the rumpled Horace, looking awake, but confused. The moment he saw Donavyn, his expression went blank. Donavyn turned without a word to walk into that back alcove room. There were only two men back there, playing a game of chess, obviously hoping to avoid the noise and bustle of the busy inn tavern.

Donavyn strode straight to the table in the opposite corner and sat down, pulling me to his side. Horace took the seat across from us just moments later.

“It is late, Lord Duran, but I could find a messenger—”