Page 34 of Shadow & Storms

But Adrienne was cut off by one of the doors flying open. A dishevelled Wren entered, wearing an apron, her face smudged with dirt. ‘Sorry, sorry!’ She wiped her hands on a clean patch of her apron and reached for a plate as she scanned the room. ‘Did I miss anything? Did anyone else arrive —’

‘Like who?’ Anya said, a coy smile on her lips.

Wren pinned her with a challenging glare. ‘Like Cal, and Kipp…?’

‘No one else?’ Anya pressed, her eyes bright. ‘Not a golden-haired Warsword, perhaps?’

Beside Wilder, Thea glanced between her two sisters and bit her lip, fighting a smile of her own. Wilder waited for her to explain, but she just shook her head. Later, she mouthed.

Wren was still glaring at their shadow-touched sister.

‘Cal and Kipp are on their way,’ Anya replied, still grinning.

Wren’s eyes narrowed and she looked as though she wanted to ask something more, but instead she turned back to the food and scooped an enormous serving of salad onto her plate. ‘Good.’

A huff of amusement sounded, and Wilder looked across the room to see Talemir cradling Ryland in his arms. The little boy looked so small sagging against his father’s broad chest, his tiny wings drooping at his back, his cheeks flushed with sleep.

‘Thank the gods for that,’ Drue muttered from her armchair, downing the rest of her drink. But she looked at the pair with utter adoration in her eyes.

‘Turned out pretty well for them, don’t you think?’ Thea said quietly, following Wilder’s gaze.

‘I wouldn’t have believed it yesterday,’ Wilder admitted. ‘But… yes, I think it did.’

He didn’t want what Tal and Drue had, not exactly. He only wanted Thea. A future with her. And for a moment, he allowed himself to dream that fate would allow them to have it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THEA

The festivities lasted well into the evening, and Thea found herself enjoying the odd company. It was a combination mad enough that it might just make their alliances work.

For a time, she sat between Wren and Anya, trading stories about their worst name days. Both Thea’s and her older sister’s were on the horizon, just two months apart.

‘I spent my last freezing my arse off in the hinterlands, hunting down Wilder,’ Thea offered, glancing at her Warsword across the room. Warmth bloomed in her cheeks as she took in his handsome form, his smile soft as he watched Talemir conjure shadow birds for Dax to chase around the room.

Wren scoffed. ‘That’s nothing. What about my fourteenth name day? When that tonic exploded all over me and I had to stay wrapped in those smelly leaves for three days to treat my burns?’

‘That was gross,’ Thea admitted.

‘I see your smelly leaves and raise you a bog,’ Anya declared, leaning back and resting her boots on the table.

‘A bog? You spent a name day in a bog?’ Thea asked, barely keeping the laughter at bay.

‘It had been a while since I’d had a hot dinner, and there was this chicken…’ Anya began.

Wren blinked. ‘A chicken?’

Anya nodded solemnly. ‘A chicken —’

‘Gods, not the chicken story,’ Dratos moaned from nearby.

‘It’s my name day story,’ Anya objected.

‘It’s your everything story. Chicken. Name day. Bog. Last I heard there was a rogue artist involved too —’

Anya gave a dramatic sigh. ‘You’ve built it up now. It was my name day. I followed a chicken into a bog and got stuck. Mud up to my tits. Couldn’t move a muscle. For the entire day. The end.’

‘But what of the rogue artist?’ Thea pressed, her cheeks aching.

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