Page 33 of Vengeance Becomes Her

PART II

I will hone my rage into a weapon that will not fail me.

CHAPTER TWELVE

In the weeks since their night out, a lot of the barriers Rhiannon had set up against Tristain had been slowly lowering.

Her trust in him had grown significantly between his willingness to be honest with her about Silas and his dedication to helping her. And more than that, they had started to develop something that resembled friendship.

That was until she saw Tristain and Jade exchange a knowing look, matching secretive smiles on their face at breakfast this morning. She couldn’t help that their exchange caused a painful twist in her heart and a subsequent anger that spread rapidly through her likeflame on wood.

She had to dismiss herself from the table. She hadn’t had a plan in mind—she just couldn’t stand the way jealousy burned beneath her skin—but she ended up with her sword in her hand. She didn’t want to analyze why she was so upset, she just knew she needed the weight of steel in her hand, the release that came with slicing it through the air. She swung her sword, practicing some of the more difficult techniques she’d been trying to perfect to distract herself.

She didn’t want to be jealous of her sister, or more specifically, the thought of Tristain and her sister together. It made sense he would pursue her. Jade was kind and warm, while Rhiannon was distant and cold. She told herself she shouldn’t care. She didn’t want him. She just needed him to help her becomestrongenough,fastenough,skilledenough, to kill his brother. When they’d accomplished that, they’d go their separate ways.

She didn’t need to worry about what he did with who as long as he showed up whenshe needed him.

She made another strike and another. She threw her frustration into every swing until her muscles were screaming for mercy. Shewas so wrapped up in the motions, she didn’t hear Tristain calling her name until a final shout startled her. In her surprise, her arm slipped into an off-kilter thrust that got away from her. The sword flung from her hands, slick with sweat, and flew rapidly toward Tristain.

If he hadn’t been so quick to react, it would have severely wounded him. Luckily, it only clipped him on the arm. A large plume of crimson rapidly soaked his sleeve. Tristain dropped to his knees in shock or in pain, or perhaps both.

Rhiannon ran to him and dropped to her knees in front of him. She moved his hand from where it was clasped around the cut. She assessed the damage, which was little, but she still ripped the bottom of her shirt and tied it around his bicep to staunch the bleeding.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. You surprised me.” Panic and frustration made her voice shaky.

He erupted into laughter.

Rhiannon’s mouth popped open in surprise before her own laughter spilled out. “Tristain, I could have killed you. What wereyou thinking?”

He fell back onto the grass as his deep laughter filled the space around them.

Rhiannon leaned over him, bracing her hands on either side of his head. She stared down at him in bewilderment as she tried to understand what was so funny. The man had just had a sword careening toward him.

“Did I somehow knock you over the head too?” She pushed a finger to his forehead.

Tristain fought for breath between his rasping laughter. Tears streamed from the sides of his eyes, but he nodded his head at her.

His throaty laughter was contagious and she folded over on top of him, her forehead resting on his diaphragm. Tristain’s hand went to the back of her head, cradling her into him.

It took them several minutes to regain control of themselves, each of them falling into fits that set the other off all over again. When she finally caught her breath, she turned her head to the side to get some air. She’d suddenly become aware of the weight of his hand on her head. She felt safe tucked against him, his heart pounding in her ear. At first, it filled her with warmth, but then she remembered why she’d come out here in the first place.

Rhiannon rose slowly, trying not to put her full weight on him as she sat back on her knees. She could feel the mess of tears and sweat that coated her face, but she didn’t care—he’d already seen her at her worst many times over. Plus, he wasn’t interested in her, he was interested in her sister. The lightness that had filled her was replaced with that flash of jealousy again. It felt like a punch in the gut.

Tristain beamed up at her but his smile dropped and his gaze pooled with worry as he took in her shift in mood.

He reached for her, but she stood abruptly and dusted away the thick dirt and grass that coated her palms on her pants. Ignoring the hurt in his eyes, she extended a hand to help him up and pulled against his weight. Something unspoken hung in the air between them, making it uncomfortable for her to stand there any longer.

“I’m going to go take a nap, I’m not feeling well,” Rhiannon blurted out. She turned to walk away, but Tristain grabbed her forearm.

“What’s wrong?” His brow creased with worry.

“I’m just tired.” She didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t say that looking at him right now made her feel angry and insecure. So instead, she tugged her arm out of his grip and walked home.

Part of her hated that she was growing attached to him. He was becoming a distraction. But he also made her feel so alive. Sometimes she even felt her old self stirring back to consciousness. He was her one reprieve from the misery and regret that continuously pounded against the walls of her sanity.

Sometimes these bursts of happiness hurt more than feeling nothing at all. But then, she found herself chasing these moments. She could avoid him—eat meals in her house instead of with everyone else, train for shorter hours,notgo out drinking with him—it would be easy. But she didn’t want to avoid him and that was the problem.

The feeling of someone watching her pulled Rhiannon from her thoughts. Tristain was standing in the same spot, his gaze had followed her all the way to her front door. The way his body was turned toward her, as if he were going to come after her, was the resolve she needed. This couldn’t end well. She needed to put some distance between them, they were getting too comfortable with each other. They were starting to rely on each other’s companionship and she couldn’t have that. She’d picked the wrong brother and now she had to live with the consequences.

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