Page 17 of The Gathering Storm

“Anya Bloodletter is an old friend.”

“Aye, she is at that, but have ye told her?”

Sigrid kept her expression carefully blank. “Not yet.”

Moira narrowed her pale blue eyes into shrewd slits. “Ye’re afraid she’ll see right through ye and reject yer claim.”

“I fear no Daughter,” Sigrid said, her voice icy.

“On a battlefield, aye, ye’re the equal of most,” Moira agreed calmly, “but where the heart’s concerned, ye’ve always held fear. How many husbands have ye claimed?”

Sigrid snapped her jaws shut. Never had she taken a husband, only ever lovers, and Moira well knew that to be so. “What’s your point?”

“Young Will deserves a bit of happiness,” Moira repeated. “He’ll no’ find it in your less than tender care, will he?”

Sigrid glanced toward Will. His hands were busy polishing glasses, but his gaze rested on the unknown Daughter. It was soft, kind, and held a tender note she’d never seen him direct her way. “What’s the Daughter’s name?”

Moira turned and her gaze followed Sigrid’s to Will. “Chana Wolfbane.”

“I know of her,” Sigrid murmured. “She’s a good Daughter. Strong.”

“That she is.”

“You’re willing to risk our friendship over a man?”

“Over this one, aye.” Moira faced Sigrid and clapped a hand to Sigrid’s arm. “Be a shame to muss yer chiseled cheekbones with a blow of me fist.”

Sigrid reluctantly pulled her attention away from Will and mustered a knowing smile for her friend. “And risk the babe’s health?”

“Oh, the babe will have a hand in the blow, too.” Moira jerked her chin at the entrance. “Go on home with ye, now. Have a proper think on the matter without yer loins turning ye cross-eyed.”

“As if,” Sigrid huffed. “I’ll be back to watch the next ACC game.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Sigrid pivoted and left without looking back, but above the crowd’s lively chatter, a low male laugh drifted to her, teasing her with what could be.

Will woke slowly the next morning, his mind clouded with the night’s dreams. Sigrid leaning against him, laughing up into his face, her hands stroking his chest. Sigrid kissing him, her passion as great as his own.

Sigrid backing away from him, her ice blue eyes frozen and unfeeling.

He raked a hand over his face, tucked it behind his head, and blinked up at the ceiling. He’d waited for her all night, searched the face of every person entering The Omega, and not once had it been her. The tiny disappointments mounted up over the evening until eventually, they grew into a huge lump lodged in his throat.

She’d broken her promise, something no Daughter did without due consideration. He should’ve known he wouldn’t hold her attention for long.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered, and yanked the covers off his legs, baring them to the room’s chill. He rolled out of bed, inched the heat up to a respectable temperature, and slogged into the bathroom under the heavy weight of resignation.

Blessed Mother, why had he allowed himself to hope for even one second?

He drowned the faint hurt clinging to him under a hot shower, attempted to scrub it away, and finally, when the water was too cold to tolerate, he turned it off and got dressed for the day.

His cellphone was blinking when he retrieved it from the bedside nightstand. He opened the notifications, thumbed into his messages, and grunted. Rebecca wanted him to drop by her office as soon as he could, today if possible. He stuck his cellphone in his back pocket and finished getting ready. Food could wait, and probably should, given the hopeless ache knotted in his stomach.

By the Lady Ki, he had it bad.

Half an hour later, he jogged up the steps of the IECS’s main administrative building toward Rebecca’s office and checked in with her secretary, then plopped onto the couch in the waiting area and thumbed through the current issue of World of the People.

Six pages in, a picture of a Greek cup depicting an Amazon warrior on horseback was printed opposite a short paragraph speculating that the Bones of the Just had been found. Will shook his head. That wasn’t quite true. Only three sets had been found, as far as he knew, but even those few were cause for celebration.

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