Page 21 of Shadow & Storms

‘When’s the wedding?’ Thea asked with a laugh.

Talemir’s gaze slid to Wilder. ‘Eight years ago.’ There was no note of malice in his tone, but the comment cut deep all the same.

Wilder shifted on his feet and looked from his former mentor to Thea and Dratos. ‘Can you give us a minute?’

Thea didn’t hesitate to elbow Dratos. ‘Come on, you can show me where we’re staying. I need a fucking bath.’

‘No arguments from me,’ Dratos retorted, stretching his wings leisurely before tucking them behind his back. The shadow-touched ranger led Thea away, leaving Wilder to face Talemir alone for the first time in almost a decade.

Time had etched lines on both their faces, but something softened the edge of their previous conflict. Tal met Wilder’s gaze with understanding in his hazel eyes. ‘I hope you’re not going to challenge me to another brawl,’ he said with a faint note of amusement.

A pang of regret pulsed through Wilder as he recalled one of their last conversations, in which he’d attempted to pummel the older Warsword into the ground for keeping his wraith side a secret.

‘You’re not exactly in fighting shape,’ Talemir continued, his stoic facade breaking into a genuine grin. ‘And I bet that left hook still needs work, Apprentice.’

Once, the term would have sparked irritation in Wilder – anger, even. But now relief and gratitude swept through him. And guilt.

‘I’ll never forgive you for this,’ he had ground out long ago. ‘You’re no longer a Warsword, no longer a brother of mine…’

‘Tal…’ he croaked, emotion threatening to bubble over.

Strong hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him.

Wilder hung his head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry —’

The weight of those years apart seemed to dissolve in the charged atmosphere, in the unspoken language of brotherhood. At last, the armour cracked, and Talemir’s heartfelt embrace bridged the gap of hurt and pride.

For a moment Wilder froze, his apologies numb on his lips.

‘It’s alright,’ Talemir said, holding him firmly. ‘It’s not your fault.’

A ragged breath escaped Wilder. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t —’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Tal repeated. The shadow-touched Warsword didn’t let go. He held Wilder upright, until Wilder lifted his own arms and returned the embrace. The camaraderie he’d missed for all those years surged to the surface, and he clapped Talemir on the back.

Returning the gesture, Talemir released him at last, his eyes lined with tears. ‘Gods, it’s good to see you.’

‘And you,’ Wilder replied hoarsely.

Talemir gave him a roguish grin and squeezed his shoulder. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet —’

But the Shadow Prince was interrupted by the return of Thea and Dratos, who were squabbling.

‘Just think,’ Dratos was saying. ‘Now the whole of the midrealms knows you’re Princess Althea Embervale.’

‘For fuck’s sake, shut up,’ Thea replied. ‘You’re worse than Kipp and Cal.’

He observed her with mock scrutiny. ‘You don’t seem particularly fond of the whole royal thing.’

Thea clicked her tongue in annoyance and gave Dratos a playful shove. Only she clearly wasn’t used to her Warsword strength yet – to Wilder’s delight, the shadow-touched rebel went flying into one of the stone archways, fragments of stone crumbling around him.

Thea clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Gods, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to —’

Talemir laughed as Dratos dusted himself off with a scowl. ‘He’ll survive. When we were fighting, I didn’t think to caution you about your strength, but now… you might want to exercise more care.’

Thea raised a brow. ‘He started it.’

Dratos scoffed. ‘I merely pointed out the obvious —’

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