Glow (The Plated Prisoner #4)

I chuckle when Ryatt flips me off and then walks away in the direction of his tent. The soldiers around him nod deferentially and clear out of the way. Him coming back has been a big morale boost too. Definitely helped to have him here while we crossed over the last of the rot.

I know I should turn in soon too, but I take another drink of wine, listening to Keg and the others strum and blow into their instruments. But when I’m wiping the drink off my beard, I suddenly catch the faint scent of flowers.

Think of the vixen, and she will appear.

I look up as a shadowed silhouette blocks the flames in front of me. The little she-demon stands there in borrowed clothes that swim on her, all but hiding her form beneath my oversized shirt and coat. I could’ve given her someone else’s spare set, like Himinn who’s much closer to her size, but the thought of her wearing any other man’s clothes other than my own sets my teeth on edge.

“Evening, Yellow Bell,” I drawl.

She glares at me, hands on her hips, and then glances around at all the soldiers. I shoot them a look, making them instantly scatter. With a small pocket of privacy now, Rissa sits down on the vacated log the others were sitting on, tucking her legs beneath her.

The brazen woman reaches over and plucks the cup right out of my hand and takes a sip of my wine. A grimace pulls at her face that’s Divine-damned adorable, but I’m more focused on the way her pink tongue slips out and drags across her lips. “You’ve been avoiding me,” she says.

My brows lift. “Thought you wanted me to avoid you.”

She opens and closes her mouth like she’s not sure how to answer. It’s only because of how watchful I am of her that I’ve discovered her tiny tells. She’s got a very good poker face usually. Most people probably wouldn’t notice the way she curls her pointer finger, scraping it against her thigh when she’s anxious. But I do.

“You kissed me, then you left. Figured that meant you didn’t want to repeat the mistake after all,” I say with a smirk as I take the cup back from her, making sure to drink from the same exact spot she just did. The way her eyes darken lets me know that she’s fully aware of it, too.

“Well, it was a mistake,” she finally replies.

“Yeah? Well, it all depends on whether or not you want to make those mistakes, Bell.”

She faces me fully, the fire making one side glow a soft orange and her coiled hair look like a sun-ripened peach. “Why would I want to?”

“Didn’t you ever have your rebellious years when you were young?” I ask. “Sneaking out to get drunk when you knew you shouldn’t? Picking fights even though you knew you weren’t going to win four against one, but instigating it anyway because you wanted to punch something? Fucking someone you knew you were gonna regret, but doing it anyhow because you had an itch to scratch? Some mistakes are just too damned gratifying.”

Rissa snorts and shakes her head, but she doesn’t deny it. “Why does it not surprise me that you’d pick a fight with four men?”

“I didn’t become captain because I shied away from fights. Or killing.”

“What did you do before you became a captain?”

“I was a mercenary in First Kingdom.”

Her eyes widen.

“Don’t ask questions unless you’re ready to hear what the answers might be,” I tell her. “I killed for coin, and I was good at it. Liked it, even. Does that bother you?”

I watch as she processes what I’ve said, watch as thoughts practically stream across her blue eyes. “Well, some people claim that saddles fucking is just as big a sin as people killing, so I suppose I have no room to judge.”

“The world can judge us all it wants, doesn’t mean we have to give a shit.”

“Eloquent,” she says dryly, though her lips tilt up into an almost smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut. What would she look like if she really smiled?

I shouldn’t be thinking questions like that. Which is exactly why I need to keep avoiding her.

“Never said I was a poet.”

Getting to my feet, I leave the cup on the log before straightening up. “Enjoy the fire.” I start walking away to head for my tent, but light footsteps rush after me.

“Why are you leaving?” she asks as soon as she reaches my side.

“It’s getting late. Gotta get up before dawn to start breaking all this shit down again, just like I do every morning.”

I can practically feel how loudly she’s thinking, but it’s not until I reach my tent and stop to turn to her that she drudges up the determination to speak. “I’ve been thinking. I know we’re going to reach Fourth’s capital soon, and...well. You know my plans on leaving, but I thought...”

I’ve never seen her so unsure before, stumbling over her words and looking around nervously.

“You thought...” I prompt.

“Maybe you were right. About making good mistakes.”

I arch a brow but say nothing.

Irritation blooms over her face. “Do I have to spell it out? I want to fuck.”

Her blunt words make me rear back in surprise, and I instantly go hard, my dick pressing against my leather pants.

I cross my arms in front of me. “You don’t know what you really want.”

Her irritation morphs into full-blown anger. “Excuse me? Don’t presume to speak as if you know what I’m thinking. I’m here, aren’t I? I approached you.”

“Yeah, but you also kissed me, and that didn’t stop you from regretting it after. I’m all for actively enjoying some fucking great mistakes, but I’m not interested in regret. That’s something else entirely, and we both know that’s exactly what you’d condemn it as.”

She can’t even deny it. I see it right there on her face, and it fucking guts me. Her stunned silence says it all.

“Thought so,” I tell her as I let out a sigh. “Go back to your tent, Yellow Bell.”

Embarrassed hurt flashes across her features, which feels like a knife digging into my stomach, but I hold my ground.

“You think you know what you want, but you don’t. Not yet. So come and find me when you figure that out.”

Red blotches dot her cheeks, and a bitter laugh escapes her. “You know what? Fine. I just thought we could do it to pass the time, get whatever this is between us out of our systems. But you’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever come back to you now. I know my worth.”

I level her with a look. “So do I.”

Her eyes widen fractionally, and her delicate throat bobs. Guilt wracks me because I know I’ve embarrassed her, know I probably just put the last nail in the coffin to this thing before it could even open in the first place, but I also know if I let her instigate this now, it won’t be right. And I need it to be right—for both of us. Because I think there could be something here, and I don’t want it to be ruined by letting her try to get me out of her system. Fuck that.

“You are the worst bad mistake I’m glad I never made,” she hisses.

“And you’re still the best mistake I can’t wait to make,” I retort with a smirk. “When you’re ready to admit it.”

Letting out a growl, she turns and stomps away, and as soon as she disappears from view, the amusement wipes off my face.

Fuck.

I hope I made the right decision. Because if I’m wrong, I just pushed her away for good, and that means I’m going to be the one with regret.





CHAPTER 54




SLADE



It takes ten minutes on the back of Argo to make it to the city’s army base.

At the bottom of Banded Mountain, you can spot the corners of a few of the buildings if you’re standing on the west tower of the castle. It’s a checkered collection of squares tucked in with the forest trees, walled up and meant to house a few thousand soldiers.

Right now, it’s about to house far more than that.

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