Bastian bent over, prepared to rush through anyone in his way. Until the claws snapped forward, curled around Connor, and pulled him through the doorway.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Bastian shot Stacia a look of hatred. She replied with a smile. Her tongue crept out the side of her mouth, licking Connor’s blood and pieces of his flesh off her lips. She blew Bastian a kiss. “Go now. Run. There’s nowhere for you to hide. We will find you again.”
She slipped through the doorway, following the beast and his best friend’s body.
Bastian leapt off the dais, grabbed Tressa’s hand, and tugged her away from the crowd.
“That’s not the first time we’ve seen one of those.”
Bastian glanced down at her. “What are you talking about?”
“That was another dragon, just like the one that died in our village.”
Bastian’s anger grew. He’d been so blinded by the vicious woman and the way she’d flailed on Connor to make the connection. Another dragon. More myth come to life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tressa didn’t let go of Bastian until they were well away from the town. She laid a hand on the rough bark of a tall tree. Her panting led to a raspy voice. “Can we stop now?”
She slipped her hand out of Bastian’s.
“I don’t know where to go,” Bastian admitted.
“We should try to get back to our village. Let them know there is a way out. Maybe with more people to help, we can find a cure for the plague. We need to tell Hazel what happened to Connor.” Tressa’s heart ached, knowing how devastated Hazel would be. “And you should be with your wife.”
She glanced up at him. Bastian kicked the tree, and then stalked away ten paces. “Why do you do that?”
Tressa thought to say, “Do what?” but she knew he would see right through her. He always did. Instead she said, “Because it’s the way things are.”
“Nothing is as it was. We’ve escaped. Connor’s dead.” Bastian motioned her toward him.
Tressa took a few tentative steps, not sure what he wanted. His eyes softened, standing in stark contrast to the blood on his vest. Connor’s blood. It was all they had left of him. The only item they could offer to Hazel in consolation.
She closed the distance between them. Her fingers fumbled at the buttons on Bastian’s vest, setting free the three wooden orbs from the looped fabric. She touched Bastian’s shoulders. The vest pushed backward. Her hands slid down his arms, until the vest was at his wrists.
“Take it off.” Tressa drowned in Bastian’s blue eyes. Her fingertips grazed his wrists.
“If I take this off, I’m shedding the last of my ties to Hutton’s Bridge. That includes Vinya.”
“You have a daughter.”
“I grew up without a father. So did you.”
His breath lingered on Tressa’s forehead, stirring that longing she’d spent so many years suppressing. She tore her gaze away from his. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for your daughter growing up without her father.”
“No one is responsible for anyone else’s choices. Despite what your guilt may tell you, my desperate desire to have you in my arms again isn’t forced. It isn’t a game. It isn’t nostalgia. Whether we’re here, facing an uncertain future, or back in the village, the only consistent want I’ve ever had is you.”
Tressa read the truth in his face. It was the only truth she’d ever known outside of her love for Granna. Bastian was hers and she was his. She may have tried to fill that void with Connor’s friendship. Connor had become the wall between them.
The wall had fallen. So had her resolve.
Tressa ripped the vest off of Bastian, tossing it onto the ground. She tugged on the string at Bastian’s neck. His shirt opened. Tressa’s hands reached under his shirt, her fingernails scratching at his muscled stomach.
A groan slipped from Bastian’s lips. Tressa lifted his shirt up and over his head. He took it off the rest of the way and tossed it.
Bastian grabbed her forearms, forcing her hands from his body. “Are you done fighting me, Tressa?”
“I’ll never stop fighting, Bastian. We have to get rid of the fog, lead our people out, and figure out how to kill that bitch who killed Connor. But I swear right now, on the life of my sweet Granna, I will never deny you again.”
Bastian lifted Tressa into his arms. Her toes dangled just above the ground as he kissed her for the first time in years. To her, it felt like they’d never stopped being together. In her mind they hadn’t. This is where they were supposed to be.
“There’s no bed. No cover,” Bastian growled into her ear as they sank into the soft grass.