Page 30 of The Trials of Ophelia
“That’s beautiful,” I said. “Is it new?”
When her eyes met mine, it was clear she heard what I didn’t say. That I was figuring things out. That I needed support. She curled her fingers around mine in answer.
“It’s from Grandmother. For my birthday.”
“Wait,” Tolek barked from behind us, having finished Rina’s evaluation. “I missed Jezebel’s eighteenth birthday.” He blew out a breath as if he had just realized and the knowledge punched him in the gut.
“I completed the Undertaking six months ago now,” Jezebel argued, reaching for a canteen. “Eighteen doesn’t matter for me.”
“That’s a load of Angelshit, and you know it.” Tolek ripped the water from her hand and held it above his head. Jez jumped to her feet, stretching up for it. “Baby Alabath isn’t a baby anymore. That’s something to celebrate.”
“Don’t call me baby Alabath,” Jez grumbled, tugging his arm so she could reach her canteen. Once she retrieved it, she sat back beside me.
Tolek sat on my other side, a grin bursting his cheeks, and I had a feeling he’d refer to her as Baby Alabath exclusively from now on.
Beneath that smile, though, his discomfort was evident. Maybe not to everyone else, but the slight crease of his brow and roll of his shoulders told me how much it unsettled him that he’d missed these important moments in our lives.
Still, he allowed Jezebel to drop the argument—for now—and slung an arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side. “You know,” Tol whispered in my ear, “we could certainly play some games out here.”
Our taunting games from his office came back to me. The brush of his fingers along my spine, his lips nipping at my ear, and the feel of his length through his leathers had my own arousal stirring. I fidgeted, fighting the urge to squeeze my thighs together.
Tol chuckled, pulling a deck of cards from his pack. “Get your mind out of the mud, Alabath.” With a wink, he placed a quick kiss on my cheek, and turned to the group. “Sanctifiers?”
I waited.
Waited for the fleeting looks from our friends. For the amused laughs or wide-eyed inquisitions. They knew things had shifted between Tolek and me, but they had rarely seen us together. Everything so far had belonged to the two of us. Intimate and private.
Not a secret—I meant it when I told Tolek I would not hide us.
But how would everyone react? Would they be concerned for our group dynamic? For our hearts? They’d watched Malakai and me fall apart; did they think this was a repeat of that cursed fate?
But Tolek shuffled the deck, and still I waited for comments that didn’t come. As if Tolek and I being together was not only natural to me, but to our friends, as well. And that soothed a piece of the concerns I hadn’t realized I’d grown.
Santorina grinned as she looked at her hand. “We haven’t played much since Cub’s.”
“I miss those nights.” An ache beat through me at the wistful memories. Shaking them off, I looked at my cards: a Soulguider four and a Mystique five, nothing matching of the two.
“My offer of games still stands,” Tolek teased low against my ear, teeth grazing my skin.
“Don’t know what you mean, Vincienzo.” I did a terrible job hiding my interest, my voice low and breathy. Tolek smirked.
Jezebel exhaled a small laugh, quiet as she took her cards and shrewdly evaluated the hand.
“Thank you,” Vale said, taking hers, too.
Cypherion rolled his shoulders and pushed up from the ground. “I’m going to get more firewood.”
Liar. We had plenty.
Folding my hand, I stood. “I’ll help you.”
Cyph wanted to tell me not to—I could see it. But instead, he huffed across the plain.
When we’d gotten far enough away from the group, I turned on him. “I won’t force you to help me?—”
“Cursed fucking Spirits,” he mumbled, trying to step back.
“However,” I continued, grabbing his arm, “I have a plan for Vale, and I’d like your input if you’ll give it.”
