When Jaren returned, he circled them, glancing down at the flames and frowning, but blessedly refrained from commenting. She almost heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t have nearly enough energy for a lecture.
Slouching on the ground across from them, he picked at the food Vera had set out for him, and she felt the corner of her mouth lift in a small smile. He acted so tough and merciless, but she was starting to think it was just a mask. The more worn out he became, the more it seemed to slip.
She took a long drink of water before removing her cloak and wadding it up. Curling up as close to the fire as she safely could, she propped the bundled cloak underneath her head and yawned. Even the hard ground was no match for her exhaustion.
“If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was ask. I know a few ways we can keep warm without the use of a fire.”
She tilted her head to throw Trey a mock glare. She hadn’t realized how close she’d gotten to him when she’d laid down. She should’ve known his ornery ass wouldn’t keep quiet about it.
“But, of course,” he continued, “if you’d rather work off the day’s stress first, I certainly wouldn’t say no.” He winked, and it took every drop of self-control she had not to laugh. Instead, she forced herself to form a bored expression.
“Being left unfulfilled and disappointed doesn’t sound like the most enticing way to fall asleep.”
Trey looked genuinely offended, but after a slight pause, he let out a strangled laugh and settled down next to her. “Damn, woman, give a man a chance.”
Mere seconds passed before she felt Jaren come around to lay on her other side as if she and Trey needed a chaperone. She wondered if all Magyki males were over-protective of females, or if it was just because he distrusted Trey.
As Vera laid there, in the middle of nowhere with two people she barely knew, she couldn’t help but think about how surreal her life had become. In only a matter of days, everything she’d known had been completely turned upside down.
The Crown Prince had proposed to her—kind of—and now here she was, sleeping under the stars, miles away from home with a proclaimed enemy. Gods, she now looked like the enemy. She flicked her tongue over her teeth, wondering how long it’d take to get used to them.
What would Eithan think of her when Trey told him everything? It would happen eventually, and Vera had no idea what he’d do. He’d likely be disgusted and accuse her of sullying herself, and she wasn’t sure she cared. She’d never be able to be herself around him, and that just wasn’t a future she wanted.
It was his own father who’d forbade women from training and fighting. Not to mention, he’d only saved her because of what he hoped to gain through her, not because she mattered as a person.
She wanted to believe Eithan was different, but she refused to trust her future to a wild hope. There was a high chance the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and she was tired of being smothered by misogynistic men.
Jaren was right. There was a voice whispering in her head, telling her she had so much more to offer than what the Matheris men wanted. She was strong, she could fight, and she needed to stop being ashamed of it.
She rolled over, already knowing Jaren was looking at her. She’d felt the heat of his stare since the moment he’d laid down. They both needed sleep, but his mind was apparently just as busy as her own.
His eyes seemed to devour her as they stared at each other. Neither said a word. She was scared to tell him the truth about her family, scared to trust that he hadn’t supported the rebellion and wouldn’t betray her. But as she laid there, she realized she wanted to tell him. Something in her craved his trust and acceptance.
She inched her arm toward him, stopping to rest her fingertips a hairsbreadth from his own. He didn’t move, his eyes darting to their hands and then back to her face.
“I’m not against the idea of an alliance, I think it’d be wonderful. But I don’t want to marry Eithan. Not because of who he is, but because I selfishly don’t want a marriage that has politics as its foundation,” she admitted, part of her hoping Trey was already asleep and wouldn’t hear. She knew he’d protect her, but she wasn’t sure if that protection extended toward his prince.
“Then don’t.”
She almost told him right then that she wanted to go to Bhasura with him. She wanted to see her true home, meet people who had known her family, and learn more about the taint and the crystals. But something held her back, a lingering fear he’d change his mind, and she’d be abandoned all over again.
The rational side of her knew he wouldn’t, knew he believed she should never have been on Aleron to begin with. But the other side, the side that had experienced loneliness her entire life, was terrified of his possible rejection.
So instead, Vera pulled her arm back, tucking it under her head, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long she laid there before sleep finally took over, but the last thing she remembered thinking was no matter how much she’d miss Elric, she never wanted to go back to the armory.
Chapter 20
VERA
The following day went by uneventfully. Jaren woke them just before the sun, pacing like a caged animal eager to escape.
They ate a quick, meager breakfast and took turns washing at the river. Vera had no qualms admitting she smelled at that point—they all did—so she opted to strip and bathe completely.
Ignoring Jaren’s order for her to hurry, she submerged herself, scrubbing vigorously at her scalp. Between the humid air of the forest and her hasty finger-combing, her hair was bound to look worse coming out than it had going in. She’d just surfaced, her back to the bank, attempting to wrangle her tangled hair into a plait when she sensed his approach.
Her entire body responded. Her heart rate increased, heat crawled up her neck, and tiny hairs across her skin rose to attention. She glanced over her shoulder only to be accosted by the sight of Jaren’s bare chest, and her throat closed. He wasn’t the first male she’d seen half-naked, she’d caught sight of plenty of topless guards throughout the years, but he was by far the most attractive she’d ever seen. While the majority of Matherin guards were wide and bulky, Jaren was lean and sinewy.
Dragging her gaze up his body, she jolted at the intensity of his glower. He wasn’t staring at her face, but at her bared back as if the sight of it infuriated him.
“I tell you to hurry, yet somehow you translated that to mean you could turn the river into your own personal wushech?”
His eyes lingered on her back, and she sensed something else swirling and mixing with his anger—something stronger. “I won’t apologize for having good hygiene. Now leave so I can get out.”
His eyes finally flickered up to hers, flaring slightly, before he spun and stomped off. Well, maybe not stomped. She didn’t think Jaren was capable of stomping. Even his angry movements were graceful.