Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,68
escape this coming confrontation was strong. It would be so easy.
He straightened, the movement that of a tightly coiled beast preparing to pounce. “Because the way I hear it, what you did pretty much amounted to a suicide mission.”
Shea’s hands tightened on her thighs, the knuckles turning white for a brief moment. Witt. It had to be. He was the only other person among the Trateri who would have had any inkling of just how big a risk Shea had taken.
“What was I supposed to do, Fallon? Just leave you there?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you should have done. For all you knew, we weren’t in its grip.”
She aimed a sharp look his way. “I knew. I could feel you slipping further and further away with every breath. Yes, it was dangerous, but it had to be done or you and your men would have never made it out.”
“You promised to stay safe,” he barked at her.
“I never did any such thing. This world is too dangerous to make such an asinine vow. I am a pathfinder; this is what I do.”
“You’re not. Not anymore.” Thunder was in his face. “You left that life behind. It would be really nice if you acted like it for once, instead of rushing straight for the most dangerous, sure to get you killed, situation in a hundred miles. How am I supposed to trust you after this?”
A tight feeling took root in Shea’s chest at those words. She looked away from him. “I’m well aware that path is closed to me. Thank you for pointing that out. That doesn’t mean you can relegate me to the rear with the gear and expect me to sit pretty somewhere while you or others are in danger. That’s not who I am, and you knew that before we started.” She put every ounce of her frustration and resolve into her eyes as she met his thunderous glare. “You don’t get to make this choice for me. You don’t get to berate me and make me feel ashamed for having the skill and gumption to pull your ass out of the fire. If you can’t accept this part of me Fallon, we won’t last long.”
There was a crack and then a crash as he kicked the chair he’d been sitting in. It flew back and clattered to the ground after it hit the tent wall with a loud thud.
There was movement in the other room and then Trenton came through the partition, sword in hand and his eyes scanning for a threat.
“Get out!” Fallon roared.
Trenton’s gaze went to Shea as if to check that she was in no danger before he gave Fallon a short bow and backed out of the room.
“Do you feel better now?” Shea’s voice was calm with a slightly sarcastic edge. She felt a tinge of pride that it showed none of her throat-gripping unease.
Fallon remained facing away from her. One hand went up to rub his face before going back to grip his neck. He stood like that for a long moment, his shoulders slightly bent and his head hanging down.
He looked so miserable that Shea almost softened. She stiffened her spine.
“Fallon, I don’t take stupid risks for the hell of it. The risk to go deeper into the mist was a calculated one. Yes, it was more dangerous than I originally let on, but you can’t expect me to sit back while you’re in danger and do nothing. That’s not who I am.”
He still didn’t turn. Shea sat there, the covers pooled in her lap and an ache in her chest.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Fallon said without looking at her.
Every fiber of Shea went cold. A beast gripped her by the throat—one fueled by heartache, pain and desperation.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked, her voice eerily calm. A calm she in no way felt. There was a turbulence inside her that was just beginning to make itself felt. A turbulence that felt like it had the power to destroy her if she didn’t hold perfectly still.
His sigh was long and held an emotion she had never thought Fallon capable of. Hopelessness. Dejection. Defeat.
“I don’t know. I need to think.”
He needed to think. Shea felt like he had just slapped her across the face. She was left blinking dumbly at him. He still hadn’t turned to face her.
Well, wasn’t that just ducky. He had to think. Fine. He could think. She’d give him all the time in