Page 179 of The Trials of Ophelia
“Who?” I asked.
“He was there when she…” She did not have to finish her sentence for me to understand the atrocities that man was guilty of. “She attacked him. He fled. We didn’t pursue into their camp.”
In an eerily timed motion, both Lyria and the Engrossian commander ripped their hands from the air. From our backs, arrows soared again, this time coated with flames.
At theirs, the wolves howled and snapped, brimming the edge of the valley.
“Stay true!” Lyria roared finally, her sword singing as she pulled it from its sheath.
Our army echoed her call.
And they charged, Lyria flying down the hill after them, Quilian beside her. Mila and I lingered behind, as instructed.
“Before we go,” Mila whispered, eyes on her friend’s disappearing form, “I have to ask…When?”
“When what?”
“When did you start to see me differently?” Her profile caught the moonlight, almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Or am I a part of some savior complex for you because of Lucidius? If that’s the case…”
Swords met axes, horses and wolves and warriors alike crying into the night. And yet she was the center of it all. The soothing voice that grounded me, reminding me I could do this.
“I don’t remember when, if I’m being honest.” Falling for Mila had been finding myself in the darkness. The two had happened in an intertwined pattern, one unavoidable with the other.
“It was gradual,” I continued. “When I first saw your scars, I needed to know you. Needed to.” The clashes of battle and death grew louder, and a vice formed around my throat. Like I was running out of time, and if I did not tell her these things now, I might not get a chance to. “It was all I thought about whenever we were in the same room. How you got them, who was responsible, and whether or not they got what they deserved.”
“They did.” Even without looking, the satisfaction in her voice was evident.
I matched it. “I’m glad, although I wish I had been the one to do it.”
Her sharp eyes glinted. “I’ve never had someone to protect me,” she said. “Only Lyria.”
“I will always protect you, Mila,” I swore, a promise as easy as breathing. “I’ve been attracted to you since the day we met, but my head was too fucked to realize what it was.” Deep in the valley, the screams began. “Then, when I came here, I realized how much I admired you. How strong and resilient you are.” The whistle of the archers’ arrows soared overhead, and the rest of my words came out hurriedly. “I was looking forward to training more and more every day, starting to feel like myself again because you showed me I could. And when we were in the Labyrinth, and you were gone, I missed you. I wanted to do anything to get you back. I guess that was the moment I finally realized it. I’m new to a lot of this. My whole life I’ve either been with Ophelia or been in a cage. I’m relearning what it feels like to be close to someone new. To trust someone new. To want someone new for more than a night.”
Mila flinched as a particularly guttural roar spiraled up the mountains. We both watched for our signal.
“And that’s me?” She sounded vulnerable in a way I hadn’t heard before. It was different than when she spoke of being a prisoner. That had been a hardened kind of haunting. This was skeptical, as if she truly didn’t believe I would want her despite the reasons I listed. “You want me for more than a night?”
“Mila, I want you for a hell of a lot longer than that.” And because I needed to know before we charged into that battle, I asked, “When did it happen for you?”
“Back in Damenal,” she said, without thinking, “when Ophelia was gone, and I saw how you tried to step up. I recognized something in you that I felt after the war. And as I watched that piece grow each day, I started to want to know it better. Started to fall.”
Neither of us looked at the other as we spoke. We stared out over the valley, taking in the devastation and trying to mask it with words that felt at least a little hopeful.
“Thanks for waiting for me to catch up,” I said.
It took a moment for my words to land, for my admission to sink in, but then her full lips split into a savage smile. “Best survive tonight, Warrior Prince.”
She pulled her short swords from her back.
“I plan to, General.” I unsheathed my own weapon.
A fire flared to life at the peak directly behind us, casting Mila’s form in an array of warm hues. A signal bellowed. And together, we led the second charge into battle.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Ophelia
We raced around the edge of Thorentil, staying well out of reach of the guard towers lining the walls to the Mindshaper capital. Apparently, before I’d killed him, Aird had been a bit paranoid. The guilty usually were.
