Page 119 of Bound By Darkness

Chapter 35

Bonfire

THALIA

Finand I followed the faint drumming sounds as we weaved through the tents. The roads were empty, carts and caravans packed up against the sides. A chill breeze cut through the camp, sending shivers under my wool cloak as if a front of rain had slammed into the ground.

The smell of smoke tickled my nose as the drumming grew louder and louder?—

It was breathtaking.

Dancers lined the outskirts of the massive bonfire, their orange skirts thin and flowing as they twirled to the steady beating of the tambourines and drums. It was mesmerizing and intimidating as everyone danced to the same tempo, their feet in perfect harmony.

Laughter ebbed and flowed between laments of beating, filling the open air with a vibrating buzz.

“I’ll be right back,” Fin whispered in my ear before tapping my hand in farewell.

Shuffling to the far right, I blended in as much as possible, hoping to disappear among the merriment. I wanted to appear uninterestedso no one would spot me before the announcements. I hated talking, especially when it required me to be cordial and polite. Those conversations were filled with fake promises and stupid questions society had deemed necessary to socialize. Even as a kid, my father said my ability to interact was poor. Maybe it was because I saw through the bullshit.

Biting my fingernails, I let the music sway me, the melody sweet and pungent as it caressed my ears. My foot tapped along to the beat, my head bobbing gently as the drums reached their forte.

When was the last time I’d listened to the swell and lull of music? Because this, this music?—

“Here.” A mug filled with sweet-smelling liquid dangled in front of my face, Fin’s grin visible from the side. A similar mug rested in his hand as he took a sip, a loud sigh flowing from his lips. “Gods, the ale here is heavenly.”

Grabbing the mug, I took another whiff, notes of cherry and brown sugar sticking to the back of my throat.

“Take a sip. Live a little.”

Furrowing my brows, I bid away the small, panicked voice in my head as I took a swig. Bitter liquid coated my tongue until the sweetness of the sugar quickly washed it away. It left a pleasant aftertaste as I swallowed another gulp and another?—

Fin wrestled the mug from my lips, a trail of liquid dribbling down my chin. “Take it easy.”

Wiping the sticky ale away, I clutched the mug between both hands. “Weren’t you saying to live?”

“Yes, alittle. I much prefer you when you aren’t in a drunken stupor,” he mused. “An escort wouldn’t let a lady waste away without proper company.”

Grinning, I took another sip. “Oh? And where would this proper company be?”

Fin’s chin flicked behind me, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I found you the perfect company.”

The ale bubbled in my stomach as Ivan stepped around the corner, dressed in black. He wasn’t wearing his fighting leathers or a random shirt he’d found from the slowly dwindling pile in our tent.

He’d replaced it with a well-made coat—black as the night sky. A stark contrast to the pop of blue peeking out from underneath. A few buttons were popped open, allowing the sheer blue material to stand out. Black pants fit him at the hips and remained straight to his feet, where a pair of similar black boots sat. His fighting boots.

His hair still twirled in familiar curly patterns, but it covered his ears instead. He always kept his hair behind his ears. A detail I’d noticed since Gwen’s house. As for his face, a bit of stubble covered his jaw, showing off his gods-damned blessed lineage that had heat pooling where it shouldn’t.

Turning around, I quickly took another largesip from my mug. “Anyone but him.”

“Too late. I believe he’s spotted us,” Fin said as he waved his arm in the air in greeting.

“Liar. You called him over here.”

“I did no such thing.”

Glaring, I opened my mouth in protest, but was cut off as Ivan clapped him on the back.

“You clean up well,” he said, a wide grin forming across his lips. “Iyanna’s outfit of choice too?”

---