Page 68 of A Fate so Cruel

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

She eyed him, then the fire. “So many questions. You probably should have asked them before we left Nàdair.”

“As I recall, the details of this mission weren’t exactly disclosed. Otherwise, I might have.”

“You knew you’d be working with us. Last I checked, putting one's life in the hands of their comrades is fairly normal.”

“Not for me it isn't.”

A shrug. “Maybe you don’t give people enough credit.”

“Oh, I have.” His voice was a near whisper. “And I’ve regretted it every single time.” Not just Caol. No, he’d worked with plenty of groups that had wound up dead by his hand. “Three days was the longest any of them waited.”

She stretched out her legs. “Then I guess we’re setting a new record, aren’t we?”

“I want to know,” he pushed and she looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. His breath caught from the way the firelight illuminated her eyes. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

She huffed. “Maybe I’m just good at hiding it.”

“Exceptional.”

Her jaw worked. “Maybe you’re just not who I thought you’d be.”

“Is that good or bad?”

She smirked. “Take it however you want.” She stood and Rion followed her every move as she poured hot water into another cup, refilled her own, then returned to her place on the floor. She set the mug before her and placed a fresh tea ball inside before gesturing to it. “I made you some.”

She’d already had the tea ball ready. His eyes traced her face, her pulse, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. “Is it poisoned?”

At that, she chuckled. “I take great offense to that.” She lifted his cup to her lips and sipped the hot liquid before meeting his gaze again. “Rest assured, Rion of Brónach. When I try to kill you, it won’t be with a cup of tea.”

He couldn’t draw breath and wasn’t entirely sure his voice was steady. “Doyou plan to kill me?”

Another smirk. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Chapter Nine

He drank the tea, mulled over plans, slept on the floor with his magic laid out around him, and had far too many inappropriate dreams about a certain bronze haired female.

Rion woke before sunrise and raced from the room, desperate to separate himself from her. He just needed fresh air, a moment or two to collect himself.

His mind refused to settle. Rion ran the perimeter of the city twice before he could think clearly. He moved through a series of training exercises until his muscles shook, then marched back through the city gates.

The guards were the same as before, with the exception of an added female. All nodded and this time none appeared glassy-eyed or inebriated.

Familiar scents of eggs, steak, and bagels wafted through the air and Rion found himself drifting to a storefront. He swore the poor female inside would die on the spot. She greeted him with a smile on her face but couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as he purchased a few pastries from the window shelf.

Mimicking Selina’s actions, Rion left a generous tip. Even so, he'd choose a different shop tomorrow. Saoirse had been poisoned once before and she’d taught him all the ways to avoid it.

Her first tip: avoid routine.

It was still early by the time he returned to the inn. A few patrons remained, some still dozing at various tables with their mugs in hand. They’d have a raging headache when they woke.

The male who owned the inn gave Rion a subtle nod in greeting and appeared to relax when Rion headed straight for the stairs

Selina was in the bathroom when he entered.

“I’m back,” he announced, just so she wouldn’t exit in anything indecent, though, from what he’d already learned about the female, she might do it anyway just to get a rise out of him. He sighed. Perhaps he wouldn’t survive this mission after all. Not if she had any say in the matter.

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