Page 178 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“That was a good life.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “It was.”
“But I think finding each other post-ascension is better.”
“I wholeheartedly concur.”
August pulled aside the oversized t-shirt, exposing my shoulder, and then trailed fiery kisses down my neckline.
We both gobbled down our breakfasts while frying four entire loaves of whole wheat bread for our team, laughing and reminiscing over our coffee. It was when he slid me the third mug of steaming bitter liquid that I finally sighed, reality settling in over me.
“We need to get clothes for everyone. We’re a bit of a motley crew at the moment.” I glanced to the gathered warriors in the living room and laughed at what appeared to be an enormous game of strip poker. So casually, they all settled in nothing but undergarments. A soldier’s life, I supposed.
“I’ve already sentThe Oddessybrothers into town to fetch clothes for everyone. I assumed August was fine with me dipping cash from the safe,” Freya said nonchalantly from the couch, her nose in a book she’d swiped from the shelves. “They were eager to escape your nauseating reunion.”
We exchanged smirks before bursting into laughter again. And then, wordlessly, August seized my hands, and began to lead me in a dance to the guitar melody on the radio. We swayed shamelessly from side to side, and I breathed in his musk, fingers touching every piece of skin they could find, devouring the constant strobe of visions that came from a soul with so much shared history. He was mine. My husband. My soulmate. Everything. August was my everything. And good God, nothing in the world had ever felt so divine beneath my skin.
EIGHTY-TWO
LOST
AUGUST
Aren’s hulking form was heavy with a sobering defeat, forearms resting on his knees. His pale eyes on the snow below his boots. He wore only a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans and combat boots. Unshaken by the chill of the mountain. The manwasthe mountain.
Alvara didn’t drop my hand as she strode ahead, pulling me towards the little cabin. As she settled us on the porch next to her sire, I saw Brody reunite with his brothers in a wincing collision in my periphery, his wounds still aching. The wood of the porch was cold and damp, even through the insulated jeans the brothers had bought for all of us. The smell of pine, smoking meat, and garlic was heavy in the air, and I salivated, despite gorging myself on the best French toast of my life.
Wordlessly, Alvara rubbed his back and then pursed her lips in a tight line. When Aren raised his eyes to hers, they were red rimmed.
“Aren?”
I needed my mind to be present, but she made me so God damned happy, I didn’t really care if the world fell around us. But a defeated man had somehow replaced the hulking sixteen-hundred-year-old sage that led our armies to a brutal victory on the strength of his blade. He held out his great hand, and she took it in her own. Her eyes went distant for a moment, and then she snapped back to the present. The shadows that flickered in her eyes were enough to decapitate my lightheartedness. In its wake was only fear. Alvara swore under her breath.
“The wounded?” I asked, dread riddling my stomach for those we had abandoned to the safe house. She shook her head, brunette waves shifting with the movement.
“Grayshell. We still can’t access Grayshell.”
My stomach twisted.
“All those souls,” his voice was like gravel, rough and clipped. Pain rippled in those ancient eyes.
“We don’t know that, Aren. Brody and his brothers came to us when we needed them. We couldn’t get to Grayshell, but they could still get out of Westerlund, as planned. For all we know, nothing is wrong there, except for the number of missing warriors and healers.”
“But I don’t understand. That was Adrastos’ spell. It should have broken when he fell.” As the words left my mouth, I caught the anxious glance between Commander and second. “What?”
“Adrastos’ body was not among the dead. Saraya’s souls double checked every corpse. Agamemnon was where you left him. Adrastos was not found.” It was anger, rather than fear that filled her eyes. Anger…and what looked like shame. She shook her head, brow furrowed, and then her eyes settled on her hands, glaring as though they had failed her. Ally's throat bobbed as she flexed her fingers before balling them into tight fists and lowering them to her sides. “What now?” Her voice was a husky whisper, and she peered up at her sire, knuckles white and jaw tight.
Aren shook his head softly. “Adrastos is a problem for a later day. He has no army. His General fell. You drove that blade in yourself. If he’s alive, he was gravely wounded. He poses no threat compared to getting into Grayshell.”
“Heisthe threat behind Grayshell. He must be alive, or we could go home.”
Aren rubbed his temples, and then his eyes flicked back to hers. “Will you call?”
It wasn’t a command to a second. It was a plea to a confidant. A plea to a sister. A friend. She nodded, only once. Alvara stood and pulled her fur hood over her head. Then she kissed his forehead, pecked my own cheek, and walked away from us into the pines.
The living roomhad transformed into a crowded command center. Aren’s luxurious leather furniture had been stuffed and stacked against the wall in an attentive tower of couches and chairs. Whiteboards had been pulled from somewhere, and hastily nailed into the log walls. Stretching lists of names covered one board, and the other had a crudely sketched map of the globe, marking the locations of the Renown’s attacks and known armies in red. Crawler attacks were in black.
Freya had marched inside like a Commander on the warpath and started barking orders and tossing out clothes. Graciously, the souls had accepted the them, tossing about shirts and jeans to make sure the right size got to the right person. They didn’t pause to question the woman yapping directions—albeit, most exchanged amused glances behind the little newcomer’s head—and a similar amusement filled me. She was kissing eighteen years old in this life and was even slighter in stature than Fae. Her small body was still filling out with the strength of ascension, and I realized that she was the first soul I’d witnessed rise amid battle. But the soul within was much too large for the vessel that held it. How had I never felt that before? Never felt her raw power? Been blind to the way her energy overflowed around her.
