Breaker of Fate: Thread of Fate Series, Book 1 by R.M. Derrick

Author:R.M. Derrick [Derrick, R.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-two

Three Months Previous

The world spun, and the light narrowed to a claustrophobic tunnel around him. Justus shook his head, trying to clear his vision. The movement didn’t right the world. If anything, it brought about some nausea.

A hearty slap on his back nearly sent him somersaulting to the sticky plank floor of the tavern.

What was its name? The Salty Fish? The Slapping Tentacle? Something nautical and idiotic…

“Oh, Commander,” Mazolan said, sliding into the seat at the bar next to Justus. “Drowning our sorrows again, are we?”

“We’re not on a job, last I checked,” he answered, leaning over his mug. The Slippery Pearl? No. Not that either. “My free time is mine. If I want to spend it at the bottom of a bottle?” Justus shrugged. “It’s nothing you and Nyle haven’t done on occasion.”

“On occasion. You’ve been doing your best to pickle your internal organs for three months. Normally, your vices are a bit more... varied. When was the last time you buried yourself between two gorgeous thighs?” Mazolan said. They nodded toward Nyle, seated at the end of a bench in the corner of the establishment, the tattooed mercenary holding a woman on each thigh. His head nestled in the crook of one’s neck while a hand palmed the other’s breast. Both women were flushed with pleasure and very much enjoying their night, it seemed.

Fiery hair and soft, plush thighs flashed through the whorl of Justus's mind, but he didn’t attempt to shake the thought free—he had learned his lesson a moment ago. That would only set everything spinning again.

Instead, he grabbed the tankard in front of him and poured the dregs down his throat.

Mazolan’s sigh coincided with the thump of the empty vessel on the scarred wooden counter. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother with you. Most of the time, you’re good for entertainment; an excellent commander, fighter, and comrade. It’s been a good long while since you’ve shoved your own head so far up your arse you’ve forgotten what you’re about.”

“Maz,” Justus guffawed, “we both know why you ‘bother’ with me, and it’s not for any of those reasons.” Justus looked around the raucous dining room, finally spotting a serving maid as he waved his tankard in the air and smiled. “It’s because the demons won’t have you.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “You found the only human willing to employ you, and you’ve been clinging like a fucking barnacle every day since.”

Mazolan went still as death on their barstool.

Well, fuck.

Eyes like chips of golden ice threatened to freeze Justus where he sat, which would be quite impressive given the glow of warmth the ale gave him. If anyone could freeze a human solid with contempt, though, it would be Mazolan.

“An animal in pain is the most dangerous beast of them all. Be careful you don’t maim everyone who cares about you,” Mazolan said before they got up and glided through the crush of boisterous patrons, halting at Nyle’s side. Maz dipped their head, saying something in Nyle’s ear that made him frown.

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