Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,46

sighed and rolled over to face him. Over Fallon’s shoulder she saw Caden and two other men with their backs to them.

“How did they find us?” Shea wasn’t sure how she felt about being awoken to three of Fallon’s Anateri keeping watch.

“They’ve been with us the whole time.”

Shea froze, her eyes meeting his as her shocked expression gave way to a glare. “Last night?”

He nodded, his expression guarded.

“So, while we were in the water? After?”

His nod would have been called cautious on another man—a word not often applied to Fallon, a man who liked to use brute force and evidently had about as much sensitivity as a rock.

She rolled away from him, snatching the underwear that was lying beside them. She had to walk a few more steps for the breast band and pants. She donned each item with angry motions, mortification and outrage making her nudity a concern of the past.

Shea hunted for her shirt, turning in a circle to find it. With each passing moment that she couldn’t, her anger grew.

“Shea.”

She turned in a sharp motion to see Fallon dressed and holding her shirt out to her. She looked at it for a split second, wanting more than anything to throw it in his face—a face she had spent considerable time kissing last night where every man in his command could watch and comment—but not being able to, because his men were standing right there and she was wearing nothing but a thin scrap of cloth across her breasts and a pair of pants.

She grabbed it from him and yanked it over her head—her blue eyes spitting chips of ice at him as they appeared above the collar.

She turned and stalked off, her strides eating up the distance. Fallon finished dressing and was a silent presence at her back as they made their way along the soul tree’s thick branch. Caden took point while the other two positioned themselves at Fallon and Shea’s back.

“Why are you so upset?” Fallon asked.

Shea’s lip lifted on one side in a semi-snarl. She wished she was some great beast with the ability to breathe fire. It would perfectly punctuate what a stupid question that was.

“Not now.”

“Shea.”

Shea ignored him, continuing without sparing him a glance. She didn’t know what made her more upset, the fact that Fallon’s guards had been shadowing them the entire time when she thought they’d successfully left them behind, the fact that they’d probably overheard them last night when Shea had made no attempt to muffle her cries—something she at least tried to do in camp where the walls were canvas-thin. Or perhaps it was the fact that Fallon didn’t even know why that would upset her.

He took hold of her arm in a firm grip, drawing her up short. “Shea, don’t ignore me. Answer my question—why are you upset?”

She twisted her arm out of his grip in a move leftover from her training as a pathfinder. “I do not wish to discuss this now.” Her eyes went to the guards at their back.

His gaze followed hers. Understanding dawned on his face.

He got it. Good. Took him long enough. Shea spun and continued on, not looking at anyone as her strides ate up the ground. She made no attempt to move quietly, rather liking the heavy thunk of her feet hitting wood. It made a nice accompaniment to her anger.

She’d always been a private person, or as private as you could be when half your life was spent on the trail with other people. There wasn’t a lot of physical privacy to be had out in the wilds, but she managed for the most part. The thought that the Anateri had heard Fallon and Shea in the middle of sex, or even worse, that they had heard any of the conversation afterward was enough to send Shea’s blood boiling.

The worst part was she should have known better. Fallon hadn’t hidden the presence the Anateri had in his life. They went everywhere he did, but while in camp their presence wasn’t quite as apparent. They were rarely in Fallon and Shea’s quarters, and when they were out and about, they could easily be lumped in with the rest of the Trateri.

So yes, she was pissed at herself just as much as she was pissed at Fallon. It didn’t help that the conversation last night hadn’t had the outcome that she wanted, matters left unresolved. Again.

They were quiet on the journey through the twisting pathways of the treetop roads, Fallon content