Page 21 of The Stolen Throne
Something hard smacks me in the back, then drops to the sand by my knee—a ball of mud. I snap my head around to find Cain standing twenty feet away, two heavy-looking bags on the ground beside him, his face a study of anger and…yup…once again, betrayal.
“You left us there.”
9
Amends
Cain glares at Reven. Clearly, all the blame is going to my Shadowraith for the way we got out of the palace. And probably the kissing, too.
Relief, apparently, can be almost as painful as worry and guilt, threatening to split me wide open.
Reven’s hands dig into my hips where he’s gripping me. “Were you followed?”
“Screw you,” Cain shoots back.
My shadowy scar twitches ominously. I think because Reven twitches, too.
“Thank the goddess you made it,” I rush to say. I’m off Reven’s lap in a heartbeat, hurrying over. But Cain is still busy glaring over my shoulder.
“No thanks to him.” He’s looking past me at Reven, who I can hear also getting to his feet. “I think you pulled that on purpose.”
The low growl from behind me is a bad sign. “Listen, you spoiled—”
I wedge myself between the two men squaring off like dogs over a hindquarter of meat, but I keep my gaze trained on Cain. “Eidolon discovered us. Reven had no choice.”
Cain leans back as though I shoved him, gaze darting over my shoulder, then back to me. After a moment, while he still doesn’t say anything, the way he relaxes slightly tells me he accepts that.
“Where is Achlys?” I demand.
She leans around from behind Cain, eyeing Reven with visible trepidation. It’s no wonder, if I think about it. The last time she saw him, he was Shadow. And what Eidolon did to us…that was only hours ago.
“It’s okay.” I reach out a hand. “Are you okay?” If Quinten touched a hair on her head, I’ll send him straight to the hells.
After a second of glancing between the two of us, she focuses on me. “I’m unharmed.”
Thank the goddesses. In my relief, I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. The sun picks out blazing copper colors within the short strands of her hair. Plus, she sort of…glows. Her heavily freckled, almost alabaster skin might as well be a beacon in the light.
I practically shove Cain out of the way, reaching for her hands, but she throws herself down, prostrate before me. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to help you find the book.”
“The book?” Reven’s question is sharp.
I ignore him, dropping to my knees. “I know. It’s not your fault.”
The tears running down her cheeks when she lifts her head make my heart squeeze hard. “I thought they’d assume I was in there doing my work.”
“You were trying to find his book?” Reven demands.
Cain jumps in, too. “Uh, what book are we talking about?”
But Achlys is still crying. I scoot closer and wrap my arms around her, which makes her gasp. She may not be from my dominion, originally from Tropikis, but she’s been here long enough to know touch is important in Aryd. Plus, I’m her sovereign. Technically.
“You were only trying to help,” I whisper to her. I shouldn’t have told her about it anyway. That was my burden and mine alone. I let my frustration at not being able to go anywhere without the king knowing get to me.
After a second, Achlys takes a breath, then nods. Letting go of her, I lean back, and we smile at each other as she wipes her tears away with her sleeves. Then we both get up.
I look at Reven. “We didn’t find it.”
After a long stare—is it sad that I even missed his intense stares?—he nods. “Did anyone follow you?” he asks Cain.
