Page 47 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
“Because the kiss with her was different,” he sighed. It was—he used women in Alentus to blow off steam, to ease the urges to shift. It helped control the wolf clawing its way out, but they were always meaningless. For both him and the women that joined him. None of them had ever shown interest past his pretty face or toned body, until her. Ember had seen him for more than the brute commander, giving him hope for a future, a family.
Shaking her head, Farah smirked. “This is why I prefer women. You men are so thick sometimes!” she chuckled.
“This isn’t funny, Farah—” But Ajax couldn’t help but laugh alongside his friend. Maybe deflection was the key to calming her all the way down, allowing Farah’s magic to settle and retreat fully.
“No, it’s not. I get it, you went to help your friend. It’s been a year since I lost Celene and, to be honest, Ember reminds me a lot of her. She’s spunky and sarcastic and, most of all, trusted me as far as she could throw me when we first met. When Ember was screaming at me, all I saw was Lene and my blood boiled. You know I never lose control, but seeing Ember fuming at me just like Celene used to on today of all days…” Her shoulders sunk and lingering tears strained to leave glassy eyes. With her forearm, Farah wiped away any remnants of pain. Ajax hated seeing his friend this way, her rawest of emotions on display, thinking she was weak when she was one of the fiercest and steadfast women he knew.
“We were both in the argument and instead of running to this woman you supposedly love and seeing how she was first, you tried to calm me. From her perspective, you didn’t even glance in her direction. Why is it so hard for you to just tell her how you feel?”
Maybe Farah was right. Maybe he was the problem. Why was it so hard for him to just say what his heart knew so clearly? There wereapparent signs that Ember reciprocated his feelings, and he wanted to know every little piece of her, wanted to be the only man that did. Yet in the moments he was alone with her, ready to express the only real emotion he had ever known, he froze. Because everyone that had meant something to him was taken away. He would not let her meet that same fate.
“I don’t know—maybe it’s because I’m afraid I’ll ruin it all, that I will do something to fuck it up. If I lost her, her respect, her light touches, that sparkle in her eyes when she gets determined to prove everyone wrong—that would be worse than death.” A tug pulled low in his gut, a nausea he could not describe even when he felt nothing a moment before. Ajax rustled the back of his hair with his palm.
“Just tell her, Jax. I know more than anyone what regret will do to you—especially when it comes to those you care for.” Light steps shuffled across the floor as Farah stood and made for the door.
“Farah?” he called after her. Her gaze turned back toward Ajax. “Maybe you should take your own advice—maybe it’s time you know happiness again too.”
Chest rising in a deep breath, Farah clutched the handle to the worn wooden door. “It’s too soon—it will always be too soon.”
Ajax padded up behind her. “Well then, it is lucky for you that I must give you a directive as one of my most trustedkatáskopoithat involves a certain young woman that you so clearly”—Ajax grinned—“loathe.”
The way Farah’s eyes whipped right to him in a narrowed glare gave him butterflies. There was little the princess could keep from him, especially not the way she gets all pink and flustered around Ander’s sister.
“And what exactly is this directive of yours, Spymaster?” Farah hissed, one hand firmly planted on her hip.
Earlier, Ajax had spoken with Ander and Nikolaos about who would be travelling to Cyther with them and who would need to travel elsewhere in case they were not able to succeed in destroying Hades’ soul once and for all. Although the plan Ander had for Farah was dangerous, it was also well crafted, and he respected the captain for that.
“I need you to travel to Hespali with the princess. She is to speak with her aunt about allyship,” Ajax explained.
Snorting, Farah shot both her brows up. “Hespali? You do realize that Avra despises Giselle and therefore her daughter as well?”
He figured she would bring that up. “Yes, well, that is why you are to go with her—as a way to temper the queen’s irritation toward the Kirassos house.”
“Her hatred runs deeper than a young tryst she had with my father years ago, Ajax. This is a mistake and you know it,” Farah shot back.
“Perhaps it is, but Avra leads the fiercest and largest army to walk the continent of Voreia. If she stayed neutral, that would be one thing, but if she is swayed by your father we are doomed.”
“And what exactly do you propose I do to gain this alliance?” Farah cocked her head to the side. Gods, Ajax respected this woman so much. She was thrown to the wolves time and time again as one of his spies and yet still blindly followed him into peril.
“Remind the queen why Giselle stopped her marriage to your father in the first place.”
She would have to succeed and if there was one person above all others that Ajax knew would not stop until the deal was signed and Hespali’s fleet and army sailed under the Nexian banner, it was her.
“So a light day’s work then?” Farah laughed once more, but this time it was not from comfort or joy.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ander
Waves slapped against the hull, salty spray flying over the gunwale. Two harpoons were latched to the bow of the skiff, wooden fishing poles with horsehair line lay on the floor boards. Fish heads filled a worn wooden barrel nailed to the transom, providing a foul stench that clung to Ander’s nostrils. The smell never bothered him, despite the pungent aromas of guts and copper tang of blood. Leighton, on the other hand, always wrinkled his nose as they emptied the bait into the barrel.
“There is something I must tell you, brother, though I regret not having our discussion on solid ground.” Alexander faced his friend in the small skiff.
“And why is that, Ander? Afraid I might push you off and use you as bait?” Leighton chuckled.
Gods, he really should have done this on the shore, where either he or Leighton could escape. It pained Ander that it had taken him this long to tell his friend. But was it really something that deserved to be blurted out as soon as his feet hit the deck ofThe Nostos? No—Leighton deserved to hear it when he was alone. When he could process what Ander was about to tell him without the prying eyes of the crew or court.
“That I am. It is about your sister,” Ander began.
