Page 144 of Echoes of War

“They won’t stop calling me that.” I rolled my eyes. Truly though, I didn’t mind. It was a little badass.

“Well, when your body count rises over a hundred within a few minutes, you get nicknames you can’t kick. It’s part of the notorious, scary girlfriend package.”

I leaned myself back, pulling us down into the water. Alexiares’ grip broke at the impact of the wave. His hair was plastered in front of his eyes, a dead stare on his face as he fought off a laugh. Splashing obnoxiously, I swam back over to him, clinging to his waist until he forgave me, pelting me with kisses across my cheeks and supported my weight.

“What are you cheesin’ for?” he asked, pausing in his assault of affection.

We hadn’t had much time alone over the last few days; he was only cleared from the infirmary today. I’d visited when I could but everyone needed me in so many ways and there was only one me. Figuring out how to be General and leader of this place was going to take a lot of effort. The pace of which would be unsustainable if I weren’t only doing it for the short-term.

“Because,” I said, guiding his lips toward mine and biting down on his bottom lip. I kissed the spot after, holding it for a few seconds, not wanting to put more distance between us than this. “You’re alive. Riley is alive. Reina is alive. Moe is alive. Abel is alive and back home.”

Alexiares’ head tilted, wondering where I was going with things. Yes, we were alive but to any sane individual, being alive just meant another day of suspended death.

I rested my chin on his shoulder, connecting our heartbeats. He waited, letting me gather myself before finishing my thoughts.

“Prescott is dead,” my voice shook. “Jax is dead. Both are Seth’s fault. Seth is dead. And now, all that’s left is to kill the person who made him this way. That makes my mission clear, simple, one-tracked. With a clear mission, makes a clearer path for everyone’s happiness. I’d say, that’s reason enough to smile.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through my chest. “Sure, princess. If you say so.”

The words caught in my throat, unsure if I were brave enough to force them out. “So the question becomes, Alexiares, you say you’re falling in love with me because I make you feel alive, that I make you want to be better. But how about feeling alive from bringing death? Would you do that notforme, but with me?”

“I’d do anything for you if it meant doing it with you,” he said, body going stiff. “But I don’t like where this is going.”

Burying my face into his neck, I finished my thought before it remained stuck in my throat forever. “I’m not done. I have a plan, one none of you are going to like. Which is fine by me, as long as you respect it. We need to find out who Seth was talking about before Moore has the chance to tell us himself. If they’re threatening enough for Covert to work out a deal with me, then that’s someone I want on our side.”

“I’m not seeing the part of the plan that is supposed to make me angry.”

“Give me a second, I’m getting there,” I said, huffing out a sigh. “The rest of you guys will stay here. I have to go alone. After Prescott, how can I leave these people vulnerable, Alexiares? They need support, to think there’s something left to fight for, especially with Covert here watching our every move.”

“If you think Reina and Moe would ever let you go somewhere without them, you’ve lost your fucking mind. The only way Riley will ever let you out of his sight again is if I’m at it, whichleads to my final point: I’ll knock you over the fucking head if you ever mention leaving me behind again.”

Alexiares grabbed my waist, prying me from around him to look me in the eye. His stare was heavy, searching, but for the first time in a while, I couldn’t read the emotion behind it. The lines of worry that usually etched his face were replaced by relaxed features. Slowly, those honey brown eyes lingered over my mouth then found their way back up, his pupils dilated.

“You once told me that you think I deserve the world, happiness or whatever. That I’m not a bad person, that I’ve changed for the better. Here’s the thing, princess, I’m not a good guy. I have no desire to be better outside of being worthy of you. Agood guywould let you risk your life to keep everyone you love safe. To keep this place safe, Compound first and all that bullshit. I’m not that guy. I care about them. Would die for them, clearly. But you? I’d kill for you. I have killed for you.” His brows pinched, face reddening as his grip tightened against my skin. “And I’d do it again. I’d burn this world for you. This world, and the next. My only desire is to keep you safe, to keep you alive.”

One, singular tear fell down my smile ridden cheeks. “I don’t need a hero,Alexiares,” I said teasingly.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m the villain of this story?” He smirked, pulling me into a tender kiss.

Tomoe

Hiraeth.

Noun. It’s Welsh. In my studies I’d come across the word and never been able to drop it. There was no direct English translation for the word. The Welsh define it as a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home that possibly never was—the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past. That deep longing for something that is infinitely out of reach.

When I’d first read about it, I had thought it odd how it was a noun and not an adjective. The look in Amaia’s eyes made me see the tangible, complex emotion that it was. Made me think if I reached out and got close, I could hold in my hand, mold it, make it mine.

Shesat near the fireplace in Prescott’s old quarters, a cup of coffee, a slice of pie, and mancala board sprawled across the coffee table. I hadn’t exactly been quiet upon entry, yet Amaia didn’t bother to meet my stare until I was right on her. It wasn’t that she didn’t know who approached her; I knew my sister. She’d probably known who I was before I even opened the door.

Instead, she reverted her eyes back to the coffee table, playing both turns of the beaded game. Amaia paused thoughtfully between each play, thinking through what Prescott would do.

“It doesn’t have to be that way, you know.” I asked, stopping a few feet away, wanting to give her some space.

Sometimes Amaia was all predator, and other times she was a scared fawn. If you got too close, cracked the wrong stick, she’d flee. A scattered Amaia, a startled Amaia, served to no one’s benefit. It wasn’t often I’d seen her go the irrational route, but when she did …

Her body stilled as I spoke. “Doesn’t have to—what are you talking about, Tomoe?”

I risked an inch closer. “Amaia. You knowexactlywhat I’m talking about. It does not have to end that way. There are options, other avenues to make this end.” I kept my tone even, voice soft, nurturing.

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