Fallon fell silent after that. Shea rubbed her chin against his shoulder, trying to give him wordless comfort. It was a poor offering, given what he’d shared.
“I understand your desire to cling to this notion that you can keep me safe,” Shea finally said. She lifted her head to look up at him in the poor light. “It is a noble feeling, but you must understand that it is not possible to wrap me in swaddling to protect me from what’s out there. Just look at what happened earlier with the mist. There are no guarantees in the Broken Lands.”
“You cannot argue that the danger you are in increases every time you go outside the camp.”
“That is true, but your enemies are more likely to do me in, than anything out there. You know this or else you wouldn’t have put as many guards as you could spare on me.”
She could tell by the loaded silence he didn’t want to concede that point. Seeing a chink, she pushed on, “Fallon, you can’t make me into something I’m not. I’ll never be a pretty trinket on your arm or a ball of fluff sitting by your side. I deserve more; I am more.”
The shadow of his head dipped in the dark and Shea got the sense his intense eyes were focused on her.
“What is it that you like about being a pathfinder?”
Shea drummed her fingers against his chest. She’d never really thought about it before. It was just the world she was raised in—the world she was born into.
He didn’t wait for her answer. “Because from where I sit, you don’t appear to like it.”
Shea reared back. How could he say that? Yes, she might not be able to quantify what she liked about it, why it drew her, but that didn’t make it less the case.
“How can you say that? I’m a damn fine pathfinder.”
“Are you now?”
Shea opened her mouth to say yes, then shut it.
Sensing he’d scored a point, Fallon pushed his agenda, “You forget, my love, I talked with Eamon and your men before we ever began. I spoke with every one of my units that you led or worked with. I know what makes you tick, and you were one of the worst soldiers or scouts in my army.”
Shea opened her mouth to protest; a warm palm covered her lips before she could.
“Not in skill. There you were better than any man in the clans. But there is more to being a scout, and I’d wager a pathfinder, than skill. From what I heard from both Eamon and others, you flirted with the edge of insubordination more than once. That if you hadn’t been so damned talented, they would have had you strung up and whipped as punishment.”
Damn Eamon and his big mouth. She knew exactly what incident had been at the forefront of his mind when he’d told Fallon that.
Her sigh was angry. There was little argument she could present. What Fallon said was true.
“I loathe stupidity,” Shea finally muttered.
Fallon’s chest moved under her as he chuckled. “I am well aware, as is anybody you worked with during your time as a scout.” He settled under her. “I’m not just doing this because I want you safe. It’s a big part, but not the only part. You’re too good and too smart to be a follower, and at the end of the day that’s all a scout is. They follow orders about where to go and sometimes how to get there. You’re meant for more. I don’t want a pretty trinket; I want a strong and powerful partner capable of ruling by my side.”
“Shouldn’t this be my decision?”
“No, not in this. I am the Warlord, and if I say you won’t be a scout, you won’t be a scout.”
She sat up. This, this was what drove her crazy. They were having a reasonable conversation and now he was back to being an autocratic ass.
“I hate when you pull that card.”
His arms came up to yank her back down. “I know. Why do you think I do it?”
She pushed against him, his strength no longer as amusing as it was earlier. “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to say something and then have it your way.”
His sigh was heavy and frustrated. He rolled over, pinning her wriggling body under his. “We haven’t seen each other in months. Do you really want to fight? Whatever our thoughts, this issue will not be solved tonight.”
He pressed a few kisses along her jaw and one on her nose.
“Fine. For now. We’ll pick this up at a later time.”
He pressed another kiss against her neck and collar bone. She shivered.
“And in the meantime, can you at least try to find something meaningful that takes advantage of your unique skills here?”
Her silence was stony.
“Shea?” He kissed lower, using his chin to drag her shirt down until he was kissing the tops of her breasts.
She wriggled again, testing his grip but getting nowhere. “Fine, I’ll look, but I make no promises.”
She felt rather than saw his smile against her skin. “That’s all I ask.”
He resumed kissing her, sliding until he nuzzled the valley between her breasts.
“Really, again?”
A hand sliding under her shirt was her only response.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“WARLORD.”
The hushed whisper woke Shea from where she’d nestled into Fallon, her body seeking his warmth in the cold of the night. Her back was pressed against his side and her head was pillowed on his bicep while both hands clasped his wrist.
Shea came to the realization that she was naked, never having put her clothes on after the last time she and Fallon coupled. She lay unmoving, playing possum and praying that the interloper would go away without noticing her.
“What is it, Caden?”
“There is a situation in camp that requires your attention.”
There was a heavy sigh that held a hint of a growl. “Understood. We’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Warlord.”
Shea didn’t even hear the man leave, his stealthy movements would have made any assassin proud.
Fallon moved beside her, briefly spooning her from behind. He kissed her hair and then said into her ear, “I know you’re awake.”
Shea grunted, not quite past the mortification of being naked in front of Caden, a man she was pretty sure only tolerated her presence under duress.
“Dress, it’s time to face the world again.”
Shea 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.