Page 20 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
With Dratos for an older cousin, and two other rangers as his adopted sisters, Gus had a tendency to hero-worship any sort of warrior. ‘It’s going to be hard to keep him away from Talemir,’ Drue said.
‘You truly think he’s that dangerous?’
‘He’s a wraith, Adri. He can’t be trusted.’ Her hands trembled as she laced the ties of her now bulging pack. ‘I’ve lost enough brothers. I won’t risk Gus as well.’
Adrienne closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around Drue. Drue sagged against her friend, exhaling a tight breath, her shoulders suddenly aching as she relaxed into Adrienne’s embrace.
‘We all miss them,’ Adrienne whispered.
‘I know.’ Drue squeezed her back before pulling away. She never let herself sink too far into any comfort offered, for she was worried her grief might get the best of her. She gathered herself and nodded to the general. ‘I told the Warsword we’ll ride out at first light.’
Adrienne knew her well enough to recognise a dismissal when she heard one. ‘I’ll meet you at the stables before dawn, then.’
When Adrienne had left, Drue double-checked her bag and her weapons. She went through the list of things she needed to do before they set out to the watchtower. But when all the tasks were done, she still felt unsettled.
That damn Warsword had rattled her. Beyond rattled – he’d got under her skin, heated her blood in a way that she couldn’t dismiss, couldn’t forget. She paced the worn stone before the fire, allowing it to burn low because she was already too hot.
The image of the water sluicing down Talemir’s sculpted, naked body sent a rush of need through her. She had seen her share of unclothed males throughout her life, but they were boys compared to the Warsword who had stood dripping and exposed before her, every inch of him honed by training and battle, every part of him corded with unforgiving muscle.
Drue swore under her breath, glancing up to find Terrence watching her, as though he knew exactly where her traitorous mind had taken her.
‘It’s not like I can help it,’ she muttered in his direction.
But the hawk simply cawed and nestled his head in his chest feathers.
With another curse, Drue stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed, knowing full well that sleep would elude her for hours to come.
It was still darkwhen Drue reached the stables to prepare her mount for the ride. To her dismay, the Warswords were already there, waiting. Of course they were. Soldiers through and through.
‘Morning, Wildfire,’ Talemir said with a charming smile, as though it wasn’t the crack of dawn. Their stallions stood saddled and ready beside them.
‘My name is Drue,’ she ground out, pushing past him into the stables, nodding in greeting to several rangers as she looked for her favourite mare. ‘You can address me as such.’
‘Where’s the fun in that?’ He followed her into the stall.
‘You’re not here to have fun.’
‘No? You could clearly use some… Bit tightly wound there, aren’t you?’
Drue’s temper frayed completely, and she whirled around to face the infuriating Warsword, shoving him hard in the chest with all her strength.
He didn’t move an inch.
Talemir laughed softly. ‘You’ll have to do better than that.’
Drue yanked her hands away from him, the heat of him like a brand, even through his leathers.
‘What in the realms are you playing at?’ she hissed at him, trying to shed her rage before she approached her blameless horse.
‘Oh, we haven’t even started playing yet.’ Talemir winked at her.
Drue lifted her chin in defiance, letting the challenge gleam in her eyes. ‘Is this some useless ploy to make me see you as a man rather than a monster?’
Something flickered across his expression then, something akin to hurt. ‘No.’
She looked away, checking her mare’s hooves and adjusting the bridle. But a quiet sense of unease filled the stall. Drue’s hands stilled mid-task, but when she turned to face the Warsword, he was gone.
Good riddance, she thought, despite the discomfort churning in her gut.
