A Curse of Blood & Stone (Fate & Flame 2)

Romeria

Taking a deep breath, I trudge beyond the invisible border of the camp, my nerves on edge as much from the frequent and hair-raising screams that echo through the wilderness as the brooding warrior perched on the rocks ahead. Zorya redid his braids earlier, but only half of them, leaving the other half of his ash-brown hair cascading down his back.

“What do you want?” Jarek snaps, not even turning around.

“How did you know—”

“Your footfalls.” He pauses. “And your blood stinks.”

I snort as I settle on the boulder beside him, noting how the distant campfire shimmers in the blade he grasps. “No, it doesn’t. I have another day before the morels start fading.” And even when they do, I know the smell of my blood entices him. Entices all of them, no matter how they feel about me. “Which direction do you think they’ll come from?”

“The trees.”

“We’re surrounded by trees.”

“Then my answer is logical. Why are you here, Romeria? To pester me? Or to tell me more lies?”

“I never lied to you.”

“You never told me the truth.”

“Seeing how you’re reacting, can you blame me?” I shift to get more comfortable, wincing at the ache in my thigh where Abarrane chopped me with her wooden stick. Gesine offered to heal the bruising, but the commander scoffed at the idea, insisting I should learn to heal like the warriors I’m trying to impress. “Zander and Abarrane were worried you’d kill me if you knew.”

“I haven’t killed you yet, have I?” he asks, deadpan.

“Should I thank you for that?”

“It would be the courteous thing to do.”

My head falls back with an unexpected laugh, but it’s what I needed to crack into this stifling tension between us. “Thank you for not killing me.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” I correct. “Can I ask that you resist the urge?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing since the moment I met you?” The faintest hint of amusement touches his voice now.

I cling to it. “I don’t believe that. At first, yeah, but not anymore. I think you were starting to like me. Or at least tolerate me.” I feel Jarek’s gaze on my profile, but I keep mine focused on the darkness ahead. “I talked to Eden.”

Silence is the only answer I get.

“Why do you make yourself out to be a perpetual prick when you can actually be decent and principled?”

“A perpetual prick. I like that.”

I lock my arm against the impulse to elbow his side. We may be talking, but that doesn’t mean he won’t turn on me like a rabid dog might snap at its owner. “She’s been through a lot. I’m worried that anyone who shows her even an inch of kindness will get whatever they want from her.”

“And you assume I would take advantage of her, like a predator homes in on its prey.”

“Well … yes.”

A harsh screech cuts through the night.

I shudder. “What was that?”

“A wild cat. It’s a mating call.” He pauses. “Not all that different from the sounds you were making this morning—”

“Shut up.” This time I do elbow him. At least he’s joking with me now.