Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,21

to him, so I know on some level, he doesn’t mind my company. “No, wait, I want to talk to you!” I plead, and he must hear the note of hurt in my voice because he stops. He doesn’t slow down to a stop, he literally just stops, and because I’d been hurrying to catch up, I slam into his chest as he turns around.

His hands reach up to steady me, grabbing my shoulders and holding me in place. “What?” he demands.

“Are you okay?” My eyes run over his face. His frown mars his brow once again, making his scar on the right side of his face look all the more severe, and he appears tense and stressed, but my question makes him take a step back. “What?”

There’s a pause as he runs his gaze over me. I miss the feeling of his hands on me, and now that we’re away from the fires and the sun is setting, the ceremonial cloak is not quite enough to ward off the chill of the evening. I hadn’t realised how far out we’d moved away from the others, but it’s quieter out here, with only a couple of fires. I can hear him much clearer, and there are not as many people to overhear us, so I know we can speak freely. If he will actually speak to me that is. Time ticks by, and I rub my hands over my exposed arms, his eyes tracking my movements.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that,” he finally replies, his head tilting to one side as if he’s reassessing me.

Raising my eyebrows, I throw my arms out in a ‘what?’ gesture. “What were you expecting me to say?” I query, but then I start laughing at his expression as a sneaky suspicion dawns on me. “You were expecting me to tell you off.” His face confirms I was right, and I start chuckling again, rubbing at my arms to try and warm myself up. I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm? my inner thoughts grumble before I point at the elf again. “Well, you were an ass.”

Eldrin snorts a chuckle, and the next thing I know, I’m in his arms as he brushes his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me. He needn’t have bothered, as soon as he touched me, my body felt like it was on fire, not that I’ll tell him that, in case he takes away the delicious heat of his body. “I’m trying to decide if I like drunk Clarissa or not,” he grouses like it’s a hardship, but I know otherwise, hearing the slight note of fondness in his voice.

“I’m not drunk.” Much, I think to myself as I nuzzle into the warmth of his chest, waving off his statement and pretending not to feel his body freeze at the contact. “Answer the question.”

“Why do you care?” His tone makes me pull away and look up at his face. He’s not frowning for once, and his expression is open and raw, like the answer to the question could have repercussions. This is definitely not an inquiry for me to be answering now, which is probably exactly why he’s asking. If I mess this up… Instead, I arch a single eyebrow, letting him know simply with my expression that I won’t be answering any questions until he’s answered mine.

Sighing, he rolls his eyes and concedes with a nod, but I know I won’t be let off for long. “I’m fine,” he starts, and I’m about to protest, thinking he’s trying to get away with that as his answer, but he growls low in his throat when I open my mouth to speak. “It’s a lot to take in. I don’t know where my place is here.” He lets go of me now, and I don’t protest, feeling plenty warm enough as he continues.

“You have your mates, even Naril has his place as your adviser. I am nothing to you.”

Pain cuts through me at his words. I hate that he feels this way, that he believes this about himself, and I know the elf queen partially has to do with that. She treated him like dirt and made him feel like he was worth nothing to her because he was scarred. Never mind that he earned those scars trying to protect his people in a mission she sent him on. He was tortured, and she did nothing to help him. When he finally