“Be careful,” she said.
He caught her by the arm. “Wait. Don’t go.”
She shook her head. “Kaine—I’m so tired—I don’t want to fight.”
“We won’t.” He was looking at her more closely now. “Come with me. You’re worked to death. They can spare you for a night. We won’t fight.”
She managed to nod. The flight was a dull haze; she barely felt the wind. She was half asleep when Amaris landed. Kaine carried her inside and laid her on the bed. She felt him pulling off her shoes, and then he sat on the edge of the mattress, his hand resting between her shoulders.
He was safe. He had come back.
She roused the instant his hand withdrew.
He paused. “I need to eat and wash.”
She caught his hand, gripping it so tight her nails bit into his skin. “I was afraid you’d die. You said you couldn’t leave without special arrangements, and you were gone so suddenly, I thought—you might not come back.” Her voice was thick. “You’re always in danger, and I can never ask you to stop.”
He ran his thumb across her knuckles. “You know I would if I could. I’d run with you and never look back.”
“I know—” Her voice broke. “Don’t die, Kaine. You can’t leave me behind.”
He sank back down beside her, and didn’t leave until she stopped crying and fell asleep.
When the bed dipped, she woke to find him on the far side of the mattress. His hair was damp and hung over his eyes. She shifted across the bed and into his arms, burying herself there, letting her eyes close as she traced her fingers across his skin. She would know him blind.
He caught her hand and rolled her under him.
He studied her, that ever-present grief visible in his eyes, until she lifted her head and kissed him.
His hand slid up to wrap around her throat, and his thumb nestled under her jaw. A gradual, deepening kiss. She laced her fingers through his silver-white hair.
She never thought she could know a person with such slow intimacy. She knew exactly how he would press his lips against the pulse-point of her throat, the way his body shifted when she was beneath him. The grip of his hands on her hips, his teeth grazing her inner thighs, and the heat of his tongue.
“Mine. You’re mine,” he said as he kissed her.
“Always.”
CHAPTER 62
Augustus 1787
NEWS OF THE UNDYING’S ALLIANCE WITH HEVGOSS was of no surprise.
Letters were dispatched to the surrounding countries, urging them to object, to pressure Hevgoss into withdrawing, but there was little response. Even Novis was slow to reply and tepid in their condemnation.
“Let’s focus on the bright side: This alliance with Hevgoss is a clear sign that our obsidian offensive is having an effect,” General Hutchens said with casual assurance to the assembled members of the Eternal Flame.
On paper, Hutchens had an excellent record—he’d been in command of the ports and only given them up after the bombing because the Resistance couldn’t maintain control of them without leaving Headquarters vulnerable. Not only had Hutchens managed to extensively sabotage the ports prior to retreating, but he’d done it with almost no casualties. He was a good choice, but he was also a true believer in Luc and Sol and the Eternal Flame, and his confidence in their eventual victory was implicit.
Details like supplies and the humdrum labour of war tended to fall beneath his consideration. Sol would provide.
Crowther could not and did not trust him, and it was creating an ever-widening gap between the true circumstances of the war and how Hutchens and the rest of the Council understood them.
“What we need to do is increase our obsidian supply and hit them hard before the Hevgotian mercenaries arrive.”
Helena wanted to throw up at the mere thought of producing more obsidian. Even if she could, only so many people died in circumstances in which she could be present.
“We lost more than half of our forces and territory the last time we were about to perform a similar offensive.” With all the upheaval in the Council, Crowther was forced to speak for himself, and even when his comments were pertinent, he lacked the charisma to make anyone agree with him. “While I am optimistic about the effect of our obsidian, there is a risk that Hevgotian mercenaries means more nullium usage. Hevgoss has few alchemists; the battalions arriving will be from the prisons.”