Page 83

Again, almost as if she felt Areanel spiralling, a winter breeze wove through her mind. More insistent now, Winter pushed at their bond. What is wrong? she seemed to ask.

The wave of anxiety had Areanel relenting an inch; she pinched a small piece of that power resting deep within her, pulled it like a thread and sent a steady stream of balmy quiet down the link she shared with all her bonded wolves, hopeful that it would keep them at bay.

‘He did. Everything is ready. We leave in two days.’ Elmrynn carefully dodged her hidden question. Elmrynn would not betray their father, no matter what. His lips were sealed.

The conversation ended as quickly as it began. Both their heads turned, eyes assessing the soldiers before them. It was a quiet form of camaraderie they fell into. Neither of them speaking, just watching.

Areanel nodded to the group of women as they passed; they had just finished their sets, and all eight looked like they had been training since high noon, given how their breath sawed out of them, and the sweat soaked their leathers.

She was proud of how far they had come.

‘They train well.’ Elmrynn followed her gaze, watching the soldiers exit with bright smiles on their faces. ‘Twice as hard as any of the males. They’re constantly pushing themselves. Rymedur has done well with them,’ Elmrynn appraised.

‘He has.’ At the mention of her husband, Areanel found herself scanning the training ground in search. She didn’t even need to. It was like she was drawn to him like a magnet, pulled in his direction. She instantly found him in the ocean of bodies, and like he could sense her, she found him already looking her way.

Emerald clashed with blue, and the rest of the world fell away.

A wide grin stretched across his face—toothy and contagious—as Areanel fought her instincts. She wanted to move toward him, reach for him.

In the throng of training, Areanel could just make out who he was with and what he was doing. Her sons—James and Lukas—stood in front of him with their feet shoulder-width apart and a weapon clutched in their hands. Rymedur was instructing them. Working on their swordsmanship.

Good, they could always improve.

With his own favoured weapon slung over his shoulders, Areanel could not help taking a moment to drink in the sight of him. Clothed in a deep black that seemed to absorb the light, Rymedur looked like one of his shadows taken human form. His shirt was form-fitting, causing the muscle and sinew beneath to practically bulge, and the leather that wrapped around his legs was so tight that absolutely nothing was left to the imagination.

Areanel felt something pool deep within her. Shifting her weight to ease some of the heat, her tongue traced the bottom of her lip of its own accord as she allowed herself this moment. Just this single moment. The heat of her gaze was branding, admiring, titillating, and Rymedur’s wide grin morphed into a sensual, knowing smirk. Like he could tell exactly where her mind had gone just by looking at her.

An abrupt cough came from her side. ‘Do you mind?’ Elmrynn cleared his throat, refusing to meet her gaze. ‘You’re practically undressing him with your eyes.’

Shit. Her scent.

Areanel shoved all salacious thoughts of her husband aside and rubbed the back of her neck. Elmrynn didn’t say a word, turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction.

Bringing her lips in between her teeth, Areanel suppressed a smile at the awkwardness. It felt so… normal. She enjoyed it. Areanel would do anything to have some semblance of normalcy in her life, even if it made her brother uncomfortable.

Dropping her hands to her side, Areanel slowly made her way over to Rymedur and her sons. They had gotten back into a fighting stance as Rymedur showed them how to hold a weapon properly. Why was he starting at the basics again?

His movements were slow as he paced around the training circle, piercing gaze focused on James and Lukas’s feet—but Areanel didn’t miss the subtle wink he sent her way as she drew closer.

Using his preferred weapon—an obsidian scythe, created for defence, with a long and bloody past—Rymedur nudged Lukas’s shin. ‘Move your right leg further back, son. That way you will distribute your weight, so you don’t lose your footing.’

‘Yes, Da,’ Lukas replied. Areanel heard the exasperation in his tone. Lukas did not like to be told what to do—much like a certain redhead she knew.

She was apprehensive about the upcoming mission, but at least she’d get to see Vasilio soon. It had been far too long.

Rymedur used the dull edge of his scythe to tap at Lukas’s bicep for the snide tone. The flexible blade had a perfectly sharp bat-wing-shaped edge inlaid with complex carvings. A cherry-wood handle and decorative red grip.

‘You’re getting better, Lukas.’ Rymedur tried to encourage. His focus shifted to their eldest son James, but as soon as he spotted Areanel stopping at the edge of the mat, he turned to her. ‘Ah. Look who came to watch.’

James tilted his head in her direction. ‘Ina!’ he acknowledged with a bright smile—a smile that reminded Areanel of Rymedur. He was a smaller version of her husband, right down to the slight dimple in his left cheek. But of course, he was. It wasn’t like she had carried her children in her womb and then given birth to them. Of course, he’d be the spitting image of his father! Only Lilith, Lukas and Aurora had hair of molten silver—but even then, they took after Areanel’s father. Not her.

A streak of white jabbed forward. Lukas moved like a blur and struck James’s side with the flat end of his blade. James yelped in surprise, whirling away from her.

‘Never turn your back on your enemy, Jay.’ Lukas’s lips stretched from ear to ear in a shit-eating grin. She knew it wasn’t often he was able to beat his big brother, so this would be a cherished milestone.

Rymedur’s howling laugh wrapped around her as his shadows often did—but instead of the cool, phantom feeling, heat rushed up her spine. Gods, did she love that laugh. Midnight blue strands fell into his eyes as Rymedur shook his head, and Areanel had to fist her hands to stop herself from running her fingers through his tousled hair.

James all but glared at his younger brother, but amusement glimmered behind his feigned frustration. ‘Low blow, attacking me like that.’