Page 9 of The Last War We Ever Fought

With a sigh, she spun to him. A feigned stunned expression etched in her features, something so entirely not her. “I…I am really sorry, Adam,” she snivelled, her eyes rounding and widening with false fear. “I…I didn’t think…didn’t know I’d calculated them wrong. There must be something wrong, I really didn’t mean to.”

When he smiled up at her, the mask she’d just put on melted off her face, bringing back the bored and lifeless look she always wore. He slowly clapped, chuckling. “Fascinating.” Shaking his head, he said, “Frailty does not suit you, though. I’ve never known a woman to be frail.”

“Strange, because frailty is all men see when they look at a woman. Whether it suits us or not.”

“Men have strange eyes. They never usually connect to their brains.”

She spared him a glance. “Thankfully for me.”

“Unfortunately for them.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her. “Why are you delaying them?”

“Who says I am trying to delay them?”

“Then what are you trying to do? Get yourself caught and be killed as a traitor to your queen?”

“Perhaps.”

“A dishonourable death your kind would say.”

“There is no honour in death. Whoever thinks otherwise simply is afraid of death.”

“And you aren’t?”

“Why would I be afraid of liberation? Look around. Life here feels like you’re living in your own land under enemy rule. You’re either a survivor or a slave.”

She left before Elijah could ask her what she was. If she was a survivor or a slave. But maybe he knew. He could tell from her eyes that she’d not survived. That her soul still clung to this world somehow, made a slave to serve soulless men.

The boy, Daniel, sat near her at the dinner area, laughing and gabbling at her. Though she didn’t engage with him at all, she didn’t bark rude remarks or send scathing glares in his direction like she did to most—like she did to him. Instead, she let him go on and on and on about ridiculous things that didn’t need such attention.

Elijah got to his feet when the boy threw an arm over her stiff shoulders. That was enough to draw her attention in his direction. The glaring returned, and Elijah couldn’t help himself from chuckling.

He threw her a wink and she almost recoiled, wincing and cringing and shaking her head at him. Only a gag would have completed the look of utter disgust she flashed at him.

He wondered if he’d always been this masochistic because he enjoyed that reaction far too much.

When she joined the rest of the soldiers to leave the designated open dining space, he stepped before her. She was a tall woman, but he still threw shade over her entire body, even her eyes, too—the green turning almost black when she tipped her head back to look at him. “Any particular reason why you aggravate me on purpose?”

“What did I do?”

“Breathe.”

“Apologies for insulting you as such, but with great pain I have to tell you that unless you kill me, I will keep doing so.”

Her eye twitched and she made to step away, but he blocked her path again. “What?” she snapped at him.

“I just wanted to see.”

“See what?”

“You and your angry eyes. Closely.”

“Gods give me strength,” she murmured low between her teeth.

“Pray to me and I’ll give you all the strength there is. After all, you’re part of this,” he said, gesturing around the camp. “How can you not?”

“It’s because of those who have prayed for you that I am here.”

“Why not choose to remain away from it?”