He raises an eyebrow, playing along. “All four of them? Busy life you’ve had.”
I smile sweetly. “What can I say? I’m hard to resist.”
He chuckles, leaning in. “Oh, I’m finding that to be the case. However, I think I could convince you to keep me around.”
Before I can respond, Mathis chimes in, grinning. “Not likely. Trust me, mate, if you’re smart, you’ll run while you still can.” He tilts his chin at Grellor, who gives a characteristic growl. “I should’ve taken their warning when I could’ve.”
The man laughs, but before he can say anything, Rylan stands abruptly, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. His growl is low and deadly. “Take his advice.”
The man holds up his hands in surrender. “Easy, friend. I like my heart and head exactly where they are, thanks.” He winks at me. “If you ever get sick of these sad sacks, I’ll be at the bar.”
I shrug and say, “Noted. But please make sure you line up behind my other prospective ex-husbands already waiting there, though.”
He laughs and leaves, tipping an imaginary hat to me.
I take the opportunity to stand up to excuse myself when Rylan’s voice cuts through the din, commanding and unyielding. “Sit down.”
“But I need—” I start.
“Whatever you need, Yosef will get it for you.”
I stare at him, incredulous. “And what if I need to use the chamber room? I have had a lot of drinks bought for me tonight,” I challenge, crossing my arms.
Rylan’s eyes narrow, flashing with something I can’t pinpoint, but he doesn’t back down. “Yosef can do that for you too,” he replies, his tone dry.
I can’t help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. “Well, Yosef is proving to be terribly useful. I’m failing to see what my use is for you.”
He glares but gestures for me to lead the way, following close behind me as I make my way to the public chamber room. The air between us thickens with each step as we navigate through the crowded inn. When I finally reach the chamber room and step inside, I breathe a sigh of relief, glad to have a moment of peace. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look a complete mess; days of travelling haven’t done me any favours. I pat my wind-mussed hair down, to no avail, and giggle to myself as I think about the men who’ve tried their luck with me tonight, despite me looking like a street urchin. But then the thought that I’ve looked like this while sitting inches from Rylan has me cringing with embarrassment. He’s only managed to look more ruggedly handsome as the days have gone by, the shadow along his jawline only emphasising his masculinity. Damn him.
When I open the door to leave, Rylan almost tumbles into the chamber room, having been leaning against the door, his eyes closed, clearly exhausted.
“Something been keeping you up?” I ask, unable to keep the bite out of my voice.
His eyes flicker open, and for a moment, I see a flash of vulnerability before his usual stoic mask slips back into place. “Let’s go,” he says, ignoring my question and turning on his heel.
As we walk back to the table, the tension between us continues to simmer, but before we can return to our seats, a man the size of three of me stumbles into my path, his breath heavy with the stench of ale. He’s taller than me by at least a head and a half, and the dangerous glint in his eye puts me immediately on edge.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” he slurs, leering down at me. “You’ve been turnin’ down all these boys tonight. It’s about time you had a real man.” His hand clamps around my upperthigh, the stickiness of his palm slapping against my skin and making me gag. “And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.”
I jerk back, my pulse quickening, ready to defend myself, but before I can move, Rylan steps in front of me like a wall of solid muscle. His hand snaps out, gripping the man’s collar so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “Back. Off,” he growls, his voice low and deadly, like the distant rumble of an approaching storm.
The man sneers, stumbling slightly but yanking himself free with a grunt. “What’s it to you what I do with her? Doesn’t look like you’re getting anywhere either.” His eyes flick to me, a sickening grin spreading across his face. “Seems like a waste to let that sweet piece of ass go unused.”
Rylan’s entire body tenses. His anger burns the air around us. His voice drops even lower, so cold and quiet that it sends a chill down my spine. “Touch her again, and I’ll make sure you never touch anything for the rest of your miserable life.”
The man takes a staggering step toward me, his hand reaching out, his fingers dirty and groping. “I promise I’ll return her to you, mostly in one pie—”
Before he can say another word, Rylan roughly grabs the front of his shirt with both hands, and his hands ignite. Fire dances across his fingers, and in an instant, the flames leap to the man’s clothes. The drunken sneer turns to terror as the man stumbles back, his shirt ablaze.
Panic ripples through the room as chairs clatter to the floor, and the inn’s patrons scramble to get out of the way. The flames climb higher, licking at the man’s hair, and the smell of burning fabric fills the air. He shrieks, patting at the fire, but it’s no use. The flames burn with relentless fury.
Rylan’s voice is low, cold. “Looks like you need to cool off.”
The man, wild-eyed with fear, staggers back, crashing into tables and scattering dishes as he tries to escape the infernoconsuming him. Finally, he stumbles toward the door, tearing off his burning shirt and throwing it to the ground as he bolts outside. The inn is left in stunned silence, all eyes on Rylan.
For a heartbeat, the room is still. Then, another man—a hulking brute who had been drinking with the first—slams his fist onto a nearby table, spilling ale everywhere. “You think you can burn my mate and get away with it?”
Before I can react, he lunges at Rylan, but Rylan’s already moving. He sidesteps easily, catching the man’s arm and twisting it back with brutal precision. The man cries out in pain, but Rylan doesn’t relent. With a sharp shove, he sends the attacker flying into a group of men, knocking over more chairs and tables.
