Page 146 of Scourged

“What do you mean?” Andrian ran a hand through his hair.

It was too fucking long.

“I mean,” Sebastian said, something like humor in his hazel eyes, “Mariah has obviously started to forgive you. I can see it on you; how desperately you need her to. So, I’ll ask again: what do you plan to do now?”

Andrian tensed. He’d been taking things with Mariah one day at a time. They hadn’t been alone together since she’dconfronted him the night they’d returned from the market district, and he’d been too cautious to try seeking her out.

But nothing had made him happier than when his skin brushed hers at the meeting, and she hadn’t shied away. When she’d leaned into him instead, the hint of that blush creeping into her cheeks.

He swallowed. “I’ve been trying to give her space. I want her to tell me when she’s ready for … more. From me.” Gods, this was uncomfortable. He’d shared stories with Sebastian in the past—all young men did, growing up hot-blooded and stupid with a city at their disposal—but about Mariah? Something about that made him defensive, a primal instinct roaring awake.

“I know. That’s good.” Sebastian grinned. “But I think she may also be waiting for you.”

“What?” Andrian bit out, astonishment and surprise like coils of lightning in his veins. “Waiting for me to dowhat?”

Sebastian waved his hand, exasperated. “I don’t know. Make some grand gesture.” His grin widened. “Trust me, Andrian. Last night, none of us saw a woman afraid. Perhaps her fear is still there, lingering, but she is conquering it. As she does most things. I think she has a lot of emotion bottled up and is just waiting for an offering of trust so she can let it all out.”

Andrian remembered last night, vividly. The group was rowdy, drunk, and happy. And despite everything, despite the tension that still existed between them, Mariah had sat beside him, the warmth of her body pressed against his thigh. She’d lost so much weight in that hellhole, but she was putting it all back, and the sight of the healthy flush to her cheeks, the tan glow of her skin … Fuck, it had taken all his strength to walk away. To go back to his rooms when the night was over and not linger there in her threshold like a lost puppy, waiting for her to either let him in or slam the door in his face.

Perhaps Sebastian had a point. He was so fucking gone, and the only way either of them would get past this was through an act of trust. Something he could offer to show her that he was hers in every way he could be.

Andrian tapped his finger against the armrest, feeling the annoying brush of his hair on the back of his neck.

“I think I have an idea.”

Chapter 51

“You almost had me there on that last move. I’ll give you that much.”

Mariah cast Matheo a sidelong glance as she panted, smearing sand across her sweat-drenched skin. His face was streaked with sand and dust and dirt as he sprawled across the grass outside the sparring pit, grinning broadly. “‘Almost?’ I had a dagger to your throat.”

“Yeah, well …” Matheo’s grin faltered as he shrugged, grumbling, “you weren’t supposed to have the dagger, anyways.”

“Oh, dear Matheo.” She leaned over, clasping a hand to his bare shoulder. “Ialwayshave my dagger.”

Behind them, Trefor snickered, his laughter turning into a cough with the glare Matheo shot over his shoulder.

This morning was one of many like it before. Always Trefor, usually Matheo, and sometimes the others, meeting in the game park to train. The build felt slow, but Mariah was feeling strong again.

She was still underweight, but when she looked in the mirror her cheeks were no longer sallow and sunken, her bones nolonger jutted out at odd painful angles. Her curves were filling back in, muscle forming in her arms and legs.

That morning, she’d picked up her favored twin short swords for the first time since being freed.

Mariah grinned, releasing Matheo. “Either way, it was a good spar. Thank you for joining us.”

Matheo sagged into the soft grass, messy brown hair falling across his forehead. “Of course. I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled but didn’t answer.

She was proud of herself, too.

“C’mon,” she said. “We need to get to the aviary before today’s hawks are sent out.” She reached for the pocket of her training leathers, feeling the outline of the small, folded letter.

The letter to her family.

Matheo sprang to his feet. Trefor brushed his shoulder against hers, a playful shove.

“Lead the way, queenie,” Trefor said with a grin. Mariah chuckled, adjusted her dagger on her thigh, and set off down the forest trail.

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