Page 51 of Savage Devotion
7
KAELGOR
The scout's approach is silent, professional. I notice the subtle shift in the air, the whisper of leather against fabric, before he even reaches our camp. My hand moves instinctively to the blade at my hip, but I recognize the gait, one of mine, from the Ironspine reserves stationed at the ridge.
"Commander." His voice is barely a breath, pitched low. "Urgent."
I extract myself from her warmth with careful precision, every movement calculated to avoid disturbing her rest. She stirs slightly, makes a small sound of protest, but doesn't wake. The sight of her face in the growing light,peaceful, unguarded, makes something fierce and protective coil in my heart.
Outside, the scout waits with the rigid posture of a man bearing bad news. His name is Vorth, young but reliable, with the steady nerve that makes him valuable for reconnaissance. The tension in his shoulders tells me everything I need to know before he opens his mouth.
"Speak."
"There's an issue with the Vaelmark command structure. One of their envoys has been passing coded messages. To Commander Heldrik."
My fists clench involuntarily. "What kind of messages?"
"Intelligence about Lady Ressa's movements. Her tactical decisions. Her..." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Her associations."
Her associations.Me. Us. Whatever fragile trust we've built, whatever understanding we forged in fire and flesh last night, someone is working to destroy it.
"How do you know this?"
"I've been watching the camp perimeter. Standard security sweep. Caught sight of the exchange two nights ago. Thought it was routine communication at first. But the pattern's wrong. Too secretive. Too careful." Vorth's jaw tightens. "And the envoy's been asking questions. About you. About where Lady Ressa goes when she leaves camp."
Ice settles in my veins, cold and sharp. Someone is spying on Ressa. Reporting her movements, her decisions, her private moments to her own uncle. The man who already sees her as a liability, who would gladly use any excuse to strip her of command.
"Description."
"Dark hair. Medium build. Scar through his left eyebrow—old blade work. Wears a silver pendant, wolf's head. Keeps to the southern edge of camp, near the supply wagons."
I know the man. Saw him yesterday during the briefing, standing just behind Heldrik's shoulder like a shadow. The way he'd watched Ressa then suddenly makes sense, not the assessment of a subordinate, but the observation of a predator.
"Continue your patrol," I tell Vorth. "Report anything unusual directly to me. No one else."
He nods and melts back into the pre-dawn gloom. I stand in the growing light, my mind churning through possibilities, implications, threats. The warmth of last night feels distant now, replaced by the cold calculation of a warrior who's learned that trust is a luxury he can't afford.
But this isn't about trust. This is about Ressa.
They're watching her. Hunting her.
This is personal. Primal. The same instinct that drove me to shield her from the ember-wolves, the same fierce protectiveness that made me teach her the mountain-steel techniques my clan guards jealously.
I move back toward the tent, but Ressa is already stirring. She stretches like a cat in the growing light, all graceful lines and unconscious sensuality. When she sees me standing in the entrance, her smile is slow and warm, full of remembered heat.
"Morning, warrior." Her voice is husky with sleep, intimate. "Come back to bed."
For a moment, I want nothing more than to crawl back under the furs with her, to lose myself in her warmth and forget about spies and coded messages and the web of betrayal closing around us. But the intelligence burns in my mind like acid.
"We need to move," I say instead. "Your uncle called a war council for dawn."
Something in my tone makes her sit up, instantly alert. The softness leaves her face, replaced by the sharp focus of a commander. "What's wrong?"
I want to tell her. Want to share the burden of knowledge, to let her decide how to handle the threat. But if I'm wrong, if it runs deeper than one envoy, any premature action could make things worse.
"Nothing specific," I lie, hating the taste of deception on my tongue. "But something feels off. Stay close to me during the meeting."
She studies my face for a long moment, and I can see her weighing my words, looking for the truth beneath them. Finally, she nods. "All right. But Kaelgor, if there's something I need to know..."
