Page 122 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“Great! So, not only does Briar probably think I’m dead, but now he also thinks I might’ve been macking on some other dude.”
You kind of were, my inner voice scolded me.
Pete’s pointed expression mimicked my thoughts.
“Oh, shut up.”
He laughed.
Despite myself, I grinned.
“Be at ease, Shorty. He may have thought you fickle, but he didn’t seem to think you dead. After Jade’s account, he stormed from the tavern, declaring his intent to track your trail.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, my hopes soaring.
Pete’s amusement softened. “Sorry, darlin’. Neither I nor Sionna has picked up on another’s scent. Your betrothed may be a right powerful bugger, but he’s no tracker.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe he’s just keeping far enough behind us, so you can’t smell him. So he can rush in and rescue me when you drop your guard.”
“Playing the long game, is he?”
I scowled, eliciting more laughter.
“Besides, if he were any good at tracking, he’d have scented me long before I sent those sluaghs after him.”
I stopped dead.
Pete and Bob moseyed on, the former shamelessly smirking over his shoulder.
My leather pants squeaked as I scurried to jump in Bob’s path. The donkey tramped to a stop, braying at me. I ignored him, my glare solely for Pete.
“Youwhat?”
Pete faced me, hands open. “I needed him out of my way, and the sluaghs were the easiest solution. Would you rather I had killed him?”
My whole body went rigid, my hands fisting. “How long were you stalking us?”
Pete ran a hand down Bob’s neck when he railed again. “Sionna and I caught your scent just after you passed through Avenshire. Did you realize your scent grows stronger when you’re angry?” He sniffed the air. “Aye, you’re as ripe as a pear tree at dawn now. Just as you were then.”
Heat crept up my neck. I was beginning to smolder.
“I did wonder why you were so irate.” Pete raised a hand, and Sionna stopped dead like a statue of a pointing hound. “I had to keep fairly far behind you to remain undetected, so I couldn’t hear why you were arguing.”
“Good! It was none of your business!”
“My marks’ lives are never my business. Still, I listen, and I did catch something important on the wind—Amy.”
I gaped, more than startled.What the hell else had he heard?
“If you knew my real name this whole time, why the hell didn’t you just tell me that? Why go around calling me Shorty all the damn time?”
He snickered, leaning to get in my face. “Because I could tell it nettled your knickers.”
Pete ducked just in time to escape the fireball that exploded out of me. It flew over him, bursting like a firecracker when it hit the knoll we traversed.
Rattled to my core, I trembled when Pete surged back up, clasping my wrists. “That was good, Shorty,” he praised, all provocation gone. “You managed to stay on your feet that time, and you didn’t blaze until you guttered out. Your aim is fair too.”
“You—you did that on purpose?” His touch was as rough and warm as it had been in my dream. “You just said all that stuff to rile my fire?”
