Page 30 of The Incendiary

“How’s the forest treating you?” I asked Shera. She had been quiet and angry that I hadn’t ruined my cover by punishing Elias for striking me. I’d told her what happened and wished I hadn’t.

“I found a burrow to sleep in, but I miss the foot of your bed.”

I missed my bed and Damond’s cooking. One small, stale loaf of bread and a bowl of porridge was all it took for me to admit I’d almost been spoiled enough to forget how it felt to starve.

“Have they come close to you while searching the perimeter?” I asked.

“Close enough. They didn’t see me. And they won’t.”

My chest pinched with worry. It was selfish of me, keeping her near but out there, beyond the fortress walls.

“Maybe you’d be better off going back⁠—”

“I will not leave you.”

The stubborn feline rejected the idea every time.

“Has the commander blessed you with his presence again?” Shera’s agitation echoed down the pathway connecting us.

“No. I hope he does soon, though.” If only so I could convince him to let me out. Most of my time was spent pacing and doing whatever exercises I could in my cell. I refused to lose a single ounce of strength I’d worked for.

“I don’t,” she answered sourly.

But at the end of that day, Elias paid me a visit.

Only the gods knew how long he stood there, tall and beautifully masculine, leaning lazily against the wall outside my cell, assessing me with dazzling eyes. His mouth curved into an arrogant smirk when I shot straight up in bed, body bristling.

“Hello, Fera.”

I clenched my teeth. It would be a grave error to reveal that the sight of him agitated me. But how did he get that thick, chestnut hair to sit so perfectly?

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Commander?”

He idly rubbed his jaw before pushing off the wall, snatching a torch from its sconce, and covering the distance to the cell in four quick strides.

“Cheek looks rough,” he observed, sounding indifferent.

I grimaced. “Well, you hit me.”

“You disrespected my queen.”

“Do you think your queen would approve of you striking a woman?”

He scoffed, but the torch’s flickering glow illuminated the fleeting guilt in his expression.

“You were last in Brinnea around the Solstice,” he said.

I cocked my head. “Is that a question?”

A loose laugh. “You know, you’re awfully mouthy for someone who’s defenseless and locked in a cell.”

Blood thrummed in my ears. I suddenly felt far too exposed. “I’m far from defenseless.”

Elias hummed in amused agreement. “The mouthy part still stands.” His eyes lingered where my fingers curled around the cold, rusted metal bars of the cell. “What did you see in Brinnea the night of the Solstice?”

I feigned ignorance. “What am I supposed to have seen?”

His sigh was thick with irritation. I was testing what little patience he had.