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His fingers closed around her wrists.
And he withdrew them from his body.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said roughly. ‘We can’t. You shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t have —'
It was as though a bucket of icy water had been tipped over Thea’s head. She pulled back sharply, her stomach hardening, spots flashing in her vision. Twice now, she had made the move, twice now, he’d spurned her. What ever happened tothere’s nothing more attractive than a woman who knows what she wants?
‘What twisted game are you playing?’ she demanded.
‘No game.’ His words were pained. ‘I have seen what something like this does to people. And you… You’ve fought so hard to get where you are, I can’t be the reason that’s taken away. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have let this happen.’
Thea flinched. ‘No, you shouldn’t have, if that’s how you feel.’
‘It… It is.’
‘Then I’ll go,’ she heard herself say. Face aflame, she snatched up her cloak, wrapping it tightly around her and made for the door, taking the torch she’d brought with her.
‘Thea…’ Her name was a pleading whisper behind her. But it was too late. She was done. Without another word, she left the warmth of the cabin and hurried away into the dark, trying not to choke on her own embarrassment.
But when Thea slipped into bed and Dax settled himself dutifully at her feet, she couldn’t sleep. Her body felt too alive, too aware of the sheets against her skin and the low voice that not only now echoed in her mind, but vibrated through her bones. She sighed heavily, trying to push thoughts of the half-naked Warsword, his rippling muscles and heated touch from her head.
Try as she might, there was no erasing his fevered kisses, or the throbbing between her legs.
And so Thea stared up at the ceiling until the watery hours of the early morning before she rose to resume her training.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Two weeks had passed since that horrific afternoon with Vernich and Seb, and Thea returned to her shieldbearer duties with a renewed sense of purpose. The days went quickly and quietly, and Thea began to feel stronger; much stronger. Kipp was back as well, though his face looked a little different since his injury.
‘It makes me more ruggedly handsome,’ he insisted one morning as they scarfed down their breakfast.
‘When, in the history of the midrealms, has anyone called you ruggedly handsome?’ Cal shook his head.
‘Well, if you must know, at the —’
‘Don’t even say it,’ Cal cut him off with a warning glare.
They didn’t have time to continue their bickering. The whole cohort was due at the stables and Thea had to practically drag the pair there to avoid being late.
When they got there, Thea’s skin crawled at the sight of Vernich, whose face still sported the evidence of Hawthorne’s beating. He was in an intense discussion with Esyllt and Torj. The Bear Slayer’s presence had her looking for the third, but Hawthorne was nowhere in sight. In fact, she hadn’t seen him even in passing since her visit to his cabin, though her thoughtsoften returned to that night. Her toes curled at the memory of his lips brushing against hers, his smell wrapping around her, her heart fracturing just a little at the thought of that flower braid on his table. But he’d made himself clear.
Beside her, Kipp stiffened at the sight of the Bloodletter and she reached down to squeeze his hand. No matter how brutal Thezmarrian training was supposed to be, what had transpired during that session should never have happened. Neither Kipp nor her spoke of it, but that afternoon had left more than just physical scars on the both of them. The way Cal was grinding his teeth told her the experience had left a mark on him as well, that his guilt for not being able to protect them cut as deep as any wound.
Kipp gave her hand a squeeze back and dropped it before anyone noticed.
Esyllt held up his hand for silence and the cohort fell quiet, eager to discover what madness awaited them next.
‘The Guild Master has requested that the shieldbearers undergo a mock skirmish,’ he announced. ‘Sparring in the arena is one thing, but applying those skills in the midst of battle is another. You are all to gather your shields and weapons and meet us down on the Plains of Orax to await further instruction.’
Excited chatter broke out across the crowd.
‘Do not take this exercise lightly,’ his voice rang out through the stables. ‘We will be watching each and every one of you. If you have a speciality, now’s the time to show it.’
That only fuelled the hushed conversations further as the shieldbearers scrambled to get their weapons from the armoury and make their way down to the fields beyond the Bloodwoods.
Unlike Cal and Kipp, Thea didn’t have a speciality suitable for the mock battle; she was deadly with her throwing stars, but she could hardly use them without spilling the blood of her fellow shieldbearers.
Throughout their various lessons, she had trained the hardest to dual wield, like Hawthorne and the great Talemir Starling, and so she sheathed two practice swords at her belt.
