Mikoto and the Reaver Village (Amaranthine Saga #4) - Forthright . Page 0,35
belatedly fired, and he put a name to the face. “You’ve kidnapped Lord Mossberne’s eastern bride?”
Tenma Subaru’s hands formed a greeting. “Hello, Sinder.”
Did everyone know his name?
Ginkgo grinned, “You’ve met Tenma?”
“No.” With an apologetic posture to soften a blunt truth, Sinder admitted, “I’ve seen his file.”
Tenma stood and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you. Sorry for imposing.”
“Not a problem,” he lied.
Something in the man’s expression shifted, and he firmly said, “Sit by me.”
“Yeah, join us.” Ginkgo was already pouring a fresh glass, and he picked up the thread of the story he’d been telling. Something involving Isla, who was clearly a mutual friend.
Sinder eased to a seat at the crowded little table. Zisa plied him with snacks, but he only picked at them. A hand found Sinder’s under the table. Tenma never looked away from Ginkgo as his fingers slid between Sinder’s, pressing a crystal between their palms.
An offer?
Pretending fascination with the foam on his drink, Sinder triggered the ward that promised privacy. Almost at once, Tenma was there. A willing soul.
Sinder liked both the offer of comfort and the challenge it represented. Could he indulge without tipping off the others at the table? Probably not if Waaseyaa had been the one offering, but Tenma’s reserves were modest. And unique.
If he were entirely honest, Sinder hadn’t only seen Tenma’s file, he’d helped compile it. He knew what this was. He even knew what to do—theoretically. Sinder tried a little squeeze that was supposed to mean, Sure about this?
Two heart thuds later, Tenma pulled Sinder’s hand into his lap and covered it with his other.
So he composed himself outwardly and worked on a little inner investment. Because according to reports, Tenma Subaru turned pebbles into gemstones and dewdrops into deepening pools. Give a little; gain the sky.
“Hey, there.” A hand lightly pressed Sinder’s forehead, and he twisted away from it. “Come on, Damsel. You’re getting heavy. Tenma’s only human, you know.”
Sinder’s eyes popped open, and he groaned.
Ginkgo chuckled. “Rough day?”
“Worst for me. Best for those recruits.” Reluctantly pulling away from Tenma’s warmth, he was grateful when the man didn’t let go of his hand. “Can’t really complain, since that’s the goal.”
“You should have said something,” grumbled the fox crosser, who was such a nanny. “Are you hurt?”
“Me? I’m in heaven.” Which wasn’t really a lie. Tenma had a rep for good reason.
Tenma quietly contradicted. “He’s in pain.”
Ginkgo growled. “Want me to find Colt Alpenglow?”
“No.” Easing more of his weight off Tenma, Sinder muttered, “Rather have Michaelson.”
“No kidding?” Ginkgo looked ready to tease, but the door swung open.
Daylight was softening toward twilight, and Mikoto stood uncertainly on the threshold, eyes rimmed in red and ankles imperiled by his little nipper of a pup. The young man’s confusion was no different than Sinder’s upon finding the house cram-packed.
“Good evening?”
Mikoto didn’t sound sure, and he looked emotionally mangled. Could be grieving, yet. Sinder didn’t know the kid well enough to say for certain.
Waaseyaa stood and passed the napping little one to Ginkgo. Hurrying to Mikoto, he drew the young man further into the room and closed the door behind him. Zisa was there with soft words and tiptoe kisses, which Mikoto bowed his head to accept. He outstripped these ancients, yet he seemed young and lost and entirely overwhelmed.
Ginkgo gave them several moments, then repeated his earlier question. “Rough day?”
Mikoto nodded.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here. You can shore up our gap. Once Timur arrives, Sinder will have a full harem.”
Sinder couldn’t help but snort. “A harem full of males?”
“Perfect for our Damsel.” Ginkgo lowered his voice. “You’re awfully ragged for someone who’s just come off a long sleep.”
Which was true. And sobering.
A chair scraped, and Sinder lost hold of Tenma, who moved around the table to offer his palms to Mikoto.
“Hello. My name is Tenma Subaru. May I know your name?”
With only a moment’s hesitation, the young headman returned the greeting. “Mikoto.”
“And your clan?”
Everyone in the room turned to stare at Tenma.
Pushing at his glasses, he asked, “I apologize. Are you … unaffiliated? Some are, I know.”
Mikoto finally found his voice. “I am Mikoto Reaver.”
“But you’re ….” Tenma glanced at Ginkgo before cautiously asking, “Are you a crosser, then?”
“No? I am a reaver.”
“Glint can vouch for his bloodlines,” said Waaseyaa. “Mikoto is a Reaver among reavers.”
Tenma was staring hard and shaking his head. “But all the colors. I’ve never seen the like. You’re positively … prismatic.”
NINETEEN
Snow
Although Kyrie’s father gave every impression of hating the idea of sending his sons to Wardenclave for the