Bound to the Battle God - Ruby Dixon Page 0,206

at the torn up battlefield, at the men that fling themselves at the stone walls even as others get mowed down by Hedonism Aron, and feel a hint of despair.

I don’t see how we’re going to get close enough.

71

We remain a safe distance away from both city and battlefield as we wait for the sun to go down. Aron sits atop a rock and instead of practicing with the men, he holds me close and presses his mouth to my hair.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Faith. Trust in me.”

I love that he’s trying to comfort me in my obvious terror, but it doesn’t make me feel better. The only thing that would actually make me feel better would be if we didn’t do this at all. I know it’s not an option, though, so I keep my thoughts to myself. Kerren, Solat, and Markos talk in low voices, sharpening their swords and adjusting their traveling armor. We let the woales go, setting them free, because one way or another, our path ends here.

I try not to panic at how final that feels.

Despite my wishing that the day would never end, the sun goes down and we get to our feet. “Faith,” Aron murmurs as he presses a kiss to my palm one last time. “Take something for me, yes?”

“What?” I ask, curious.

He goes to his pack—now sitting in the grass—and pulls the long wooden staff from it. The staff he trained me to use. I bite back hysterical laughter. “You think I can bludgeon a zombie to death with this, then?”

“I just want to know you have a weapon you can use while you’re gone,” he says, and the look on his face is no longer easy or playful. “Markos, Solat and Kerren will protect you, have no fear with that. If they do not, I will make certain that they suffer eternally.”

It’s eerily quiet with that pronouncement. I glance over and see that the men are pale, their gazes averted. Markos’s hand twitches over his pommel, as if he wants to pull his blade and protect me even now.

I step closer to Aron as I take the staff from him. “You should be nicer to them.”

“A little fear will speed their footsteps,” he murmurs to me. His gaze devours my face, and for a moment I think he won’t let go of the staff. He finally releases it, though, and it’s like he’s releasing me, too. I can see the tension in his shoulders.

He hates this. He hates this so, so much. And that’s the only reason I don’t freak out. Because he’s taking this as seriously as I am.

Aron turns to the others. “Take only what you can carry easily. I will not have you encumbered. Your only goal is to get Faith into that keep alive. Do you understand me?”

The men nod and as I watch, Solat drops his pack and picks through it one last time, discarding a few items. A metal buckler—a plate-sized shield meant to attach to the arm—is discarded, and I pick it up. “Can I take this?”

Solat frowns at me. “Of course, but why?”

I pull out the neck of my gown, shove the buckler down the front of my dress, and then tap my chest. The lip of it rests against my thick Novoran belt and it remains in place right over my heart and breasts. “Because I want armor, too.”

His lips twist in a wry smile. “If they get that close to you, we’re already doomed.”

“Fair enough, but I like being safe.”

“You should go,” Aron says. “Before it gets too dark to see. I’ll wait until the moon is higher in the sky before I head out.”

I swallow hard and nod. I want to run to him and hold him tight in one last hug, but I also don’t want to be a pain in the ass. “Be safe, okay?”

He gives me a swift nod, and I turn away, moving toward Markos and Kerren. There’s a hard knot in my throat that I do my best to ignore, but I clutch the staff and head forward…to my destiny.

Man, just thinking that phrase makes me want to barf. I steel myself for the evening ahead. Please be safe, Aron—

A heavy hand lands on my shoulder.

I turn and Aron’s hard mouth is on mine, his hand on the back of my neck as he gives me the hardest, most fiercely possessive kiss ever. His tongue slicks into my mouth, claiming me

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