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‘So I realised.’ The words were tinged with a note of regret, though the older Warsword said nothing of the sort; that wasn’t his style.
‘My own apprentice, however, is gravely injured,’ he said instead.
‘Shame.’
‘Osiris is calling for witnesses. So we can explain to his uncle what happened.’
‘Tell him it was a battle. People get hurt,’ Wilder said.
‘He’s a silent benefactor of the guild. He’ll need a bit more detail than that.’
Wilder didn’t reply, merely followed Vernich’s gaze to where Thea was telling a group of captivated warriors some heroic tale that involved Cal. It wasn’t long before men all around them were raising their cups, toasting to Callahan, the Flaming Arrow.
With his chest still heavy, Wilder forced himself to his feet and went to find the rulers of the midrealms. For the war was not over when the battle was done.
* * *
The celebrations lasted well into the evening, and it felt like a lifetime before Wilder found Thea again, swaying on her feet.
‘You need to rest,’ he told her, his voice low, positioning himself to catch her should she fall.
He expected her to argue, as she so often did. But it seemed his apprentice, his love, had learnt when to accept defeat. She nodded, gazing up at him blearily, and that was all he needed to see to show her to the tent he’d snagged on the outer perimeter of the camp.
She stumbled inside, the shock of the day finally wearing off, leaving her shaking and cold. Wilder followed her into the tent, which seemed too small with him inside it as well, but he didn’t mind. He wanted to be close to her, wanted to hold her through the night. They still hadn’t exchanged more than a few words, but perhaps that was for the best, given what he knew. Given what he had to do next.
But first, he would allow them this comfort.
They didn’t speak. They simply wiped the dirt and blood from their bodies and curled up on the bedroll together, Wilder enveloping her body with his, waiting for her tremors to subside.
He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke to Thea tracing the contours of his face, her lips brushing against his.
‘I need you,’ she whispered.
‘You have me. Every part of me belongs to you,’ he told her, seizing the kiss, her mouth parting beneath his, allowing his tongue to slip inside and brush against hers. He drew back for a moment. ‘But tell me exactly what you need, Thea, and it’s yours.’
‘Remind me that we’re alive. Promise me that as long as we’re together, and our friends are unharmed, that’s all that truly matters.’
A chasm opened in Wilder’s heart as the words washed over him. Somewhere deep inside, he knew it wasn’t just the battle that had her shaken. There was something more, something she hadn’t yet told him. But he wouldn’t push her – not when she needed him most, not when she asked this of him.
The reassurances wouldn’t come from his mouth, but from his body. With his body he could offer her comfort.
With the rest of the camp around them, Wilder was mindful to peel their clothes away in silence, to clap his hand over her mouth as his teeth closed over a nipple, as he dragged a finger down her centre.
In the blue-tinted light within the canvas, he could see the bruises marring her skin. He kissed every one of them with reverence, along her collarbone, her ribs, and beneath him, Thea arched into his touch.
He exhaled shakily.
This woman…Mywoman…He had fallen for her long ago, but what he’d failed to realise was that when it came to love, it wasn’t a single fall, but many, over and over. It was there in the grander gestures: slaying monsters, fighting furiously and making heartfelt declarations. But it was in the smaller, quieter moments that he felt it the most deeply – that shift at the very heart of him, where he fell for her beyond reason.
His throat closed up as it hit him. He would forever be falling for Thea.
And so, in the dim light of the tent, their breaths mingling together, her fingers gentle in his hair, Wilder sat upright and pulled her into his lap, her thighs either side of him.
He kissed her, long and slow and thorough.
Only when they were both breathless did they break apart.
Celadon eyes met silver as Thea slowly, torturously, slid down the length of his cock.
