Relinquish(25)

“Because I can’t,” he spits back. Anger disfigures his handsome face, drawing his eyebrows into a deep V. “I can’t stop looking because I need to protect you!”

I step back, shocked at the vehemence in his tone. His chest puffs with anger as he turns and slams his fist into the brick wall. To his credit, he hardly makes a sound as his knuckles shatter. Blood trickles down toward his palm.

I sigh and pull his hand into my own. A ripple of warmth floods down my arm and a golden glow spirals over his hand. A moment later, I step back, all hint of injury vanished. “Was that really necessary?”

“No,” he mutters, clutching his hand to his stomach, “but it felt like the only thing I could control.”

I lower my gaze and breathe out a weighted breath. “I really don’t want to do this again with you, Eamon. I’m tired of hurting, of being alone, of feeling like you’re always looking too far beyond me to even see me standing right here in front of you.”

He steps forward and grips my upper arms. His grasp isn’t painful, but it is firm, demanding. “I know where this leads, Illyria. If you go, you won’t be coming back.”

“You don’t know that,” I whisper.

“I do.”

“How?” I look up into his ice-blue eyes for some hint of the man I love. Only deep, profound sadness looks back at me. “You told me my future is veiled from you.”

His grip tightens as he draws me close enough for me to feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I don’t need to see the future to know. I can feel it in my gut.”

“Well, your gut isn’t my commanding officer, Eamon.” I push back from him, nearly losing my resolve as he crumples before me, as if a great weight presses down upon him. “I’m sorry, but I have to go pack. Carleon will be by to get me soon.”

I glance at him one last time and turn my back. I keep my head held high as I walk away, each step resonating loudly in my ears. He doesn’t call out for me, but I can feel him watching, silently begging. I can’t listen. Not when there is no point staying.



I swat at a swarm of mosquitoes that seem to have a rather large appetite for my blood. They’ve hovered about my head for the past couple of hours, dive-bombing the instant I stop swatting to give my weary arm a break. Shouldn’t these things be dead by now?

When I first heard about this assignment, I was thrilled most about being back in the woods. Kyan told me to pack light but to prep for a hike. That means trees, fresh air, and a campfire. Pure bliss. At least it would have been if Kyan had been a bit more forthcoming as to whom my companions would be on this little trek.

I march at the back of the group, fuming in silence. How could Kyan not tell me that Eamon was leading this group?

I should’ve known there was a catch. It was probably the only way Eamon even considered agreeing to let me go. One thing continues to nag at me as we wind our way down the side of the mountain, keeping to a steady pace.

Eamon hasn’t been trained to fly a Sky Ship. Nor have any of the other men in our group. Quickening my pace, I whistle softly and Carleon hangs back. “What’s up?”

“You want to tell me what I don’t know?”

Carleon attempts to keep a straight face as he shakes his head. He shoves a branch out of his face, nearly letting it swing back to smack me up the side of my head, but he catches it at the last second. “Why do you always try to get me in trouble?” he hisses as he rises onto his toes to see Eamon storming through the woods at a clipped pace.

Everyone is struggling to keep up with his grueling speed, but no one complains. Not loud enough for him to hear, at least. It is thick in here. The brambles sprout angry-looking thorns the size of my thumb and errant tree roots appear out of nowhere to trip you when you least expect it, rising from the newly fallen snow.

“Just spill it. You know I won’t tell anyone who told me.” I adjust the straps of my pack against my back. Its weight is draining on me, rubbing my shirt against my stomach. It rises a few inches over my head and straps about my waist, brown to match the barren trees. I have everything I need to survive for at least a week on my own. A tent to pitch for inclement weather, three changes of clothes, a sack of food and pots to cook with, a few hunting knives that I’d sorely like to use on Drakon as target practice, and a comm unit to signal for help. Everything else the forest can provide.

“Oh, come on, they all know how close we are. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who told you.”

I grin over at him and reach out to ruffle his hair. “I wonder if Anwen knows that sometimes you suck your thumb at night while you sleep.”