Page 45 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

I stop instantly. Binx pauses at my ankle, his shadows pulling tight against his sleek body.

Voices drift toward us.

Fae voices.

Leaning around Thane, ignoring the frantic beat of my heart, I peer through the trees in time to notice a gathering of at least six males in the not-so-far distance. Their armor glints faintly, gold and polished. Crud. It’s more of the queen’s soldiers.

Thane shifts without a sound, taking my hand arm and tugging me a few feet further into the trees. He presses a finger to his lips, points at Binx to stay where he is by my left boot, then angles his body just enough to block us from view.

I’m very aware of how close Thane is. Too close to breathe comfortably, or maybe that’s because my nervous heart is just about lodged in my throat.

“Stay calm,” he murmurs, barely audible. “They won’t see us.”

“I thought you said the woods were safer,” I whisper back.

“They are,” he replies. “This is the mistake most travelers make. The queen’s guards like their roads. Makes them feel important. So we stay on the edge, watching for them, then hide if we have to. They won’t follow us further in here unless we give them a reason to.”

One of the soldiers laughs up ahead. The sound is sharp, cruel. My fingers curl instinctively around the hilt of my sword.

Thane’s hand covers mine, a silent warning to wait.

That’s what we do. We wait until the voices fade, until the road empties again. Only then does he step back.

“You did well,” he murmurs. “Didn’t panic at all.”

“I panicked internally,” I admit.

“Better than stabbing me by accident.”

I huff, loosening the grip on the sword. “Once! That happened once!”

No surprise that we leave the road behind, cutting just enough West that we’re firmly hidden in the trees.

Thane glances at me as we walk. “We’ll stop soon. Practice a bit more. Find a brook to refill the canteens.”

“Practice?” I echo, like that’s the only part I heard… and it might’ve been. “Is this another ‘try not to stab me’ lesson?”

His grin is wicked. “That depends. Are you feeling stabby?”

Gods, I love it when I see the truly teasing side of this male. “Always.”

Holding his arms open, a daring pose if I ever saw one, I laugh. “We stopping now?”

In answer, Thane draws his sword and tosses me a look that’s all challenge. “Come, Alana of Sombra. Show me what you’ve learned so far.”

I do.

It’s clumsy at first and, oh, who am I kidding? I’m no swordswoman. Having half my skirt missing helps with the footsteps, and it really was an accident the last time I stabbed him, but while I’ll never be as good as a century-and-a-half old fae with two decades of banditry under his belt, I don’t embarrass myself too much. Thane circles me, correcting me with quiet words, guiding my wrist, shifting my stance with a hand at my hip that feels a long more natural than the first time he took leave to touch me.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Again.”

Sure.

I thrust. He parries.

Again.

And again.