Page 65 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
“Please be time.”
Please be time. Please be time.Please be time.
Backing away from Adbeel, I called to my shadows, watching as the paper appeared atop my hand.
Please, Nicola.Please.
You are so impatient.
Yes, it is time. Perdita Harligold will be at the coordinates below. The king and queen are ready for your attack.
Remember, all who die risk the future itself. If you do not care about their lives, at least care about Asher’s. Be as fast as you can.
Nicola
“Time to get our princess,” I whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Henry
“Why do they have such a big market? This is ridiculous,” Genevieve whispered. Gods, she was irritating. And so fucking gorgeous. I could not tell if I wanted to shove her face into the dirt or against my cock.
“Well, perhaps they enjoy the sense of community. Or maybe, just maybe, this is good for their economy,” I remarked. For my sarcastic jibe, she took her pointy little elbow and jabbed it into my hip. “Ow!”
“I hate you,” she hissed, speeding up her walk to nearly a jog. I kept up with an embarrassing amount of ease, my hands slipping into the pockets of my trousers to annoy her.
“Hate, love, who can tell the difference these days?” I teased.
Sadly, my taunting had the opposite effect of what I wanted. Genevieve stared forward, her golden curls fanning out around her and blocking her face from my view. What was once contempt became…nothing. And I realized in that moment that I would take her hating me over her not caring about me at all.
“Listen, Genevieve, I think we need to talk about—”
“Found it!” she shouted, breaking into a run. Just ahead of us sat a booth with a sign that read “Adams’ Pottery”. How original. I jogged, catching up with her just in time to watch the male pop out from inside with a stunning vase. It was long, wider on the top than it was on the bottom. The colors were a swirl of green and blue and teal, like the Sea of Akiva on a clear day.
Like the water near Haven.
We had not received word from Nicola since parting from the horrid pirate’s ship and being forced to leave Lian behind, so what exactly we were meant to do from here was beyond us. Still, Genevieve rushed forward, completely unphased by her potential downfall. How could she be a monarch and a trained warrior, yet be so reckless at the same time?
Speeding up, I cut her off with an arm in front of her, shoving her behind me as the male looked up and met our eyes. He looked to be a few hundred years old, his dark brown hair pulled back in two long braids and free of gray. His facial hair was full, cut so it stuck closely to his skin. He had eyes that matched the soft dirt below our feet and clothes that were the color of the tropical trees that stretched out above us.
There was nothing extraordinary about him other than the fact he seemed far too fit to just be sculpting clay all day. That, and he had tattoos that wrapped around his arms in swirling patterns.
The hood of my cloak, the one Genevieve had returned to me smelling suspiciously of the strawberry-scented soap she loved,covered my round ears, but I could still tell that he knew exactly what I was.
“You are earlier than I expected,” he said, fussing over the vase as he displayed it on the center of his counter, the plethora of pottery around it looking almost dull in comparison. “Meet me back here just after sunset and I will have your order ready.”
With that, he waved us off, picking up a thin red vase and walking over to a small group of browsing fae.
“Well, I guess that is our cue to leave,” I said. Genevieve grumbled incoherently at my side, her foot coming down in a soft stomp upon the ground. It was so wonderfully endearing watching her cross her arms and lift her chin. As if she was both annoyed and above the male’s actions. “Come on, we should find a place to go that will save us from this awful heat.”
Not bothering to look back, I wove through the crowds, hoping that I was right and Genevieve was far too unsettled around these immortals to stray far from my side. When I came to a particularly congested area, Genevieve’s small hand slipped beneath my cloak and gripped my elbow. Of all the things in the world that could bring me to my knees, I would have never thought it a simple and desperate touch. But there I was, prepared to beg her for a moment of her affection.
I spotted a tavern ahead, resting just beyond the market, as if it needed space from the chaos just like we did. I tugged Genevieve along, reaching over to wrap her arm around mine fully. She did not complain, but when I looked down at her I caught her eyes darting to where we linked.
I knew she loved me. She had to love me. There was no other reality that made sense. No other future that felt like it was worth breathing in. Why it was her that felt so right, I would never know.
There were times early on when I wondered why Bellamy had picked Asher out of all the males and females he had been with.She was not nicer, smarter, or even exceptionally more beautiful than any other. Asher was powerful, but she was not perfect. So why her? Why be so utterly obsessed with her? Sure he saw parts of their future together and that was what pushed him towards her, but what was it that made him stay?
