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‘It doesn’t scare you?’ She had asked some version of this question once before, on the cliffs at Thezmarr, a lifetime ago. But so much had happened since then. Everything had changed, and there were so many challenges still to come…
‘It never has.’ He pressed his mouth to the back of her hand, kissing it, the sensation hot but brief on her skin.
Something in Thea eased, a coil of tension she hadn’t even known was there. She gave her Warsword a quick smile before taking the lead and making her way through the last few rooms of the Singing Hare.
True to his word, Everard had cordoned off an entire private section of the tavern for their meeting. A crackling fire blazed in the hearth, and sitting at a large round oak table were Torj Elderbrock, Cal and Kipp.
Thea dropped Wilder’s hand and braced herself as the latter two jumped to their feet at the sight of her and half tackled her in an overzealous embrace, grinning from ear to ear.
She squeezed her friends tight, relief rushing through her. ‘It’s so good to see you both,’ she said, not quite ready to let them go yet.
‘And you, Thea,’ Cal replied, though he was pulling away, having noted the towering Warsword at her back.
She bit down a laugh and revelled in the joy of seeing them. ‘You’re both well?’
‘Never better,’ Cal reassured her, still warily keeping his distance.
Kipp, however, flung an arm around her shoulders, still beaming, his gaze sliding to Wilder. ‘The Shadow of Death and her faithful mentor, the infamous fallen Warsword… Together again at last. You’re both looking… refreshed.’
Behind him, Torj groaned.
The sound only seemed to delight Kipp further, and at last he released her and held out his hand to the others. ‘Cough up, gentlemen.’
To Thea’s shock, both Torj and Cal scowled, reaching into their pockets for their coin pouches. Cal passed a handful of coins to Kipp with a grimace, while Torj threw his whole bag on the table.
‘Un-fucking-believable,’ he muttered.
Wilder’s laugh sounded. ‘What was the wager?’
‘Oh, nothing important,’ Kipp said, gleefully scooping up his winnings and wiggling his brows. ‘Just a little bet between friends.’
‘Oh, fuck off, Kipp.’ Thea threw herself down into the closest chair, unable to suppress her smile.
‘That’s how you treat your dear friend whose countless connections saved your sorry arses?’ He gave Wilder a knowing look. ‘I said you’d need that handkerchief again, didn’t I?’
Wilder took the chair beside Thea. ‘That you did, and I’m grateful. I owe you a debt.’
‘Always good to have a Warsword’s favour,’ Kipp replied with a grin. ‘I’ll collect in good time.’
Wilder chuckled. ‘I don’t doubt it.’
‘When did this exchange of favours take place?’ Thea asked, brows raised.
Kipp shrugged. ‘That’s for us to know, and for you to never find out.’
Finally wiping the frown off his face, Torj stood, reaching across the table and grasping Wilder’s forearm in greeting. ‘Glad you made it out of that gods-forsaken floating dome, both of you,’ he said with a nod to Thea.
Wilder bowed his head. ‘I’m in your debt too.’
But Torj gave a warm smile. ‘There are no debts between Warswords.’
There was a moment’s pause as the mutual respect settled between the great warriors.
‘Now I sound like a prick,’ Kipp blurted.
Cal scoffed. ‘Youarea prick.’
Thea held back her laughter as Torj gave a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples as he sat back down.
