Page 161 of Sword & Shadow
“I understand just fine,” he shot back steadily. “I may be young, but I’m not as innocent as Raff and Thom like to pretend. I fought in an underground fighting ring, remember? You don’t think I encountered girls who found that attractive?”
Having never considered it, Evylin now realized he was right. Had she known about the fighting ring in Trollenston, she likely would have gone in search of it. As a young woman, she would have found a skilled young fighter like Ethenn immensely impressive—andattractive.
Ethenn gave her a flippant, if bashful, grin. “I’ve kissed my fair share of girls. Trust me, I know what it’s like to kiss for fun. And that’snotwhat you and Deckard were doing.”
Somewhere between amused, intrigued, and disturbed, Evylin pressed her fingers to her temple. “Why are we discussing this?” she asked irritably.
He gave her an equally frustrated frown. “Because I need to know if I’m doomed to a life of either unhappiness or destruction,” he said, a thread of desperation in his voice.
Evylin drew back, startled at the admission.
Ethenn threw his hands in the air, staring into the forest around them as if seeking direction. “I feel lost, Evie. When I was a boy, all I wanted was to be like my parents—to be a hunter, have a small home and a happy family, and never leave Trollenston. Then everything changed.”
He didn’t give an explanation, and Evylin didn’t think she should ask.
“I left the town because of choices I made,” he said matter-of-factly. “I told you before: I’m dangerous. My anger gets the better of me, and I lash out violently. I thought maybe if I left, it would get better.”
Ethenn’s face scrunched with something like disappointment. “Now, I’mthis. I’m a bloody Warrior—a living weapon, meant only to create death. It makes sense in a cruel way—why I am the way I am.” He let out an embittered laugh. “And it seems I’m doomed to two choices: I either accept that fate and find a Mage to marry or live a normal life with a normal woman who can’t make me happy.”
Evylin frowned, not liking the conversation. “We aren’t destined for Mages, Ethenn. You can be happy with whomever you like.”
“Can I?” Ethenn asked bluntly. “Whatever you say, whatever lie you like to tell yourself, now that you’ve experienced what it feels like to be with Deckard, can you honestly imagine loving someone else?”
She couldn’t. But not for the reason he thought.
His lips curled in discontent. “Now that you’ve felt that rush,” he continued in a whisper. “Now that you know what it’s like to be fully alive... Can you truly believe you’d ever be happy with anything less?”
Evylin’s pulse thrummed in her ears. Ethenn’s panic, his fear, echoed her own. She’d asked herself these very questions many times. Could she live a life not as a Warrior but simply as a woman? Could she forget how her senses heightened in the rush of a fight, making the world purer? Could she be happy without Deckard? Was happiness even an option for her?
When she didn’t answer, Ethenn gave his own response. “I can’t.”
Caught in her indecision, Evylin ran a hand across her forehead. She didn’t know how Ethenn came to his conclusion, but she feared that if she followed her thoughts, she’d find the same one at the end. She didn’t want to feel that way.
To distract herself, Evylin latched onto Ethenn’s predicament. “You said you want to be insignificant. If you’re a Warrior, you can’t be.”
He nodded.
“If you’re a Warrior married to a Mage,” she added, “youcertainlycan’t be.”
“I know.”
“So what? Are you...planning on offering yourself to Ilain?” she asked skeptically.
“No,” Ethenn said, his denial almost too quick to be believed. “No, I just know I can’t return to who I was before this. And I suppose I wanted to know that pursuing this life isn’t something to regret.”
“I’m not the person to answer that, Ethenn,” she warned. “I regret everything.”
“Because of Hewitt?” he asked gently.
“Yes.” It was the only answer she had. The only one that mattered.
Evylin regretted everything because her choice, her blind dedication to keeping Ryen alive, had led to her losing Hewitt. If she could go back to the beginning, to that moment when she sat at her cousin’s grave and whispered into the cold night, she would tell herself not to make that damning promise. “It isn’t worth it,” she would say. “Losing him isn’t worth what you’ll gain.”
A sting of bitterness pierced through Evylin’s heart. She’d lost Ryen. She’d lost Hewitt. In exchange, she’d simply gained another man she’d inevitably lose.
“Evie?”
Ethenn’s voice broke her out of her downward spiral. She looked up, realizing her vision was blurred with tears. He stood there, dark hair hanging in his eyes as he watched her warily.
