She deserves marriage. A husband.
I hurry out of my tent, moving swiftly through the camp, past the smoldering remains of fires and the night guards.
The lake comes into view, its surface a mirror of the starry sky above. Without hesitation, I strip off my clothes and wade into the icy water. The cold shock steals my breath, but I welcome it.
I dive beneath the surface, letting the frigid water envelop me completely. My lungs burn, but I stay under, pushing myself to the limit. When I finally come up for air, gasping for breath, her face still lingers in my thoughts.
Cursing, I swim further out, my muscles working against the current. The physical exertion helps, but not enough. I still feel the ghost of her touch on my skin. Still taste her on my lips.
How can one woman have such a hold on me? I’ve known her my whole life, yet she’s become this irresistible force I can’t escape.
The logical part of my brain screams at me to forget her, to focus on my duty to my people. But my traitorous body wants nothing more than to run to her tent and take her in my arms again.
But I won’t do that to her.
Chapter
Forty-Two
CENRIC
The wind whipsat the tent flap, waking me before dawn. My frigid swim last night hadn’t done what I needed.
I needed a distraction, to forget, but I couldn’t forget. I tossed and turned for hours, remembering every kiss, every moment, especially the way Everly gave herself to me. It’s as if…
No. I refuse to think about that, to put it into words.
I sigh and haul myself from the bed.
As I dress, I remember the missive Praxis handed me in Alvina’s cottage. I yank it from my cloak, sit at the table, and open it.
Hawke’s sharp, angular script leaps off the page. I read it once, twice, three times, desperately hoping I’ve misunderstood.
A,
I’ve done as you requested. The spy is in place within the Bloodstone camp. Trust in me, sister. Believe in our cause. Everly will gather the information we need. Soon, we’ll have everything necessary to bring down Cenric and his warriors.
Stay vigilant.
Our time approaches.
H
A quick exhale escapes me as I crumple the missive, willing the world to right itself, but it doesn’t. Nor does that damn letter disappear.
Everly is the spy?
Unbidden, images of her flood my mind. Her shy smiles, the way her eyes light up when she sees me.
Is it all a lie?
I stand abruptly, nearly upending the table, and pace my tent. Part of me screams to act, to confront her, to cast her out of the camp and be done with this betrayal.
But this is Everly, the woman I’ve known most of my life. The one who used to follow me around like a shadow, her bright eyes filled with adoration. The same woman whose lips I claimed last night, whose body I yearned to possess.
Surely, she wouldn’t spy for Hawke. Surely, she wouldn’t deceive me like this.
Hades.
