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 the world to think.
“You do that, Fallon.” She ripped the sheets off and crawled out of bed. The soft mattress made it difficult to convey the depth of her rage by its utter comfortableness and inability to give her motions any violence. She finally made it to the edge and swung her legs down. “You just remember—it wasn’t me who started this relationship. I warned you before we ever began. You’re the one who couldn’t listen.”
By this time, she’d found her pants and jerked them on in angry fits and starts, at one point almost falling before regaining her balance. She located her shirt and grabbed it, her movements sharp and angry. She pulled it over her head and got stuck, fighting with the material for a long moment, her arms sticking over her head as the material restricted her movements better than a rope ever could. A pair of large hands guided one arm into a sleeve and then the other arm into the other sleeve before grasping the bottom and giving one hard jerk. Shea’s head popped out of the top. Her blue eyes spit sparks of fury as they met Fallon’s whiskey colored ones.
It wasn’t fair that his eyes were pools of warmth, trying to reach out and heat her insides. She stepped back and then moved around him, her hands smoothing the shirt into place. Not fair at all. Especially when they were fighting. Especially when he was threatening to end them.
Just like a man. When things get tough, take a break, run for the hills. He was a warlord, he was supposed to break obstacles with his pinky finger. Not give up when they reared their ugly little heads.
“Shea.”
She didn’t listen and stalked out of their chamber. Well, his chamber if he was serious about not being able to make their relationship work.
She stopped in the next chamber at the sudden realization that if they ever did end, what would happen to her? She assumed she wouldn’t be able to keep this tent. It had been specifically built for the warlord, a man responsible for uniting the Trateri tribes. Not for his former telroi. Would she even be able to stay among the Trateri? Would they let her go back to being a scout, or would that door be closed to her now?
The righteous indignation she’d been using to shield herself from the hurt that was lurking deep inside drained out. She’d seen what happened to those unfortunates that had no place in either the clan or military caste. They lived on the fringes of Trateri society, relying on the kindness or lack of it from the clans. Their existence was meager and humble. Two things Shea had faced before, but not like this where you had to rely on the charity of others.
That wasn’t the life for her. If Fallon and she were to end, it would mean she would have to leave, give up the life she’d been building here. Give up the friends who’d made her feel like she belonged for the first time in her life. She’d lose everything.
Fallon was a warm presence at her back as his hands came up to cup her shoulders. “You misunderstood. I’m not saying we’re over.”
She grunted, still reeling from her discovery, and shrugged him off. Her feet began to move again. Over her shoulder, she muttered, “I’ll see you later. I think we both need a little space to decide how we feel.”
She ducked out of the tent, noticing Trenton standing outside. “Just who I was looking for. Let’s go train.”
Surprise registered on his face before he looked over her shoulder. Understanding dawned. Shea knew without looking that Fallon had stepped out of their tent. His eyes were a heavy sensation on her back. She didn’t look back, not wanting to see him.
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” Her reply was terse. She started walking toward the special area that had been set up so the Anateri and Fallon could train whenever they wanted without having to waste time walking to the perimeter of the camp.
There was only the briefest hesitation that she knew involved Trenton conferring with Fallon through the non-verbal communication that all the Anateri seemed to share with their warlord. He caught up with her quickly as she stalked off.