Storm of Fury by Bec McMaster

Author:Bec McMaster [McMaster, Bec]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bec McMaster

Fifteen

Tormund found her in a tavern down by the waterfront.

The raucous sound of laughter echoed to the eaves, but Bryn sat alone, her back to the room and her head down as she idly toyed with something in her fingers. A mug of ale sat in front of her, untouched.

“So you were working for the dreki bitch all along,” he said, hauling out the chair next to her and straddling it.

Bryn’s hand snapped closed over the necklace she was holding, but he caught a glimpse of the pendant. A falcon in full flight, clutching a spear. She tucked it inside her pocket before turning to face him. Red circles of heat formed in her cheeks, but her chin tipped up. Shields firmly in place. “The pay was good, the job a simple one. Find a missing dreki prince and let Solveig know where he was.”

He flicked his finger to the innkeeper and gestured toward Bryn’s mug. “Something on your mind?”

Bryn’s hot-eyed stare met his, and she was clearly on the back foot. “Why are you here? Why are you pretending I didn’t just betray you?”

“I’m not pretending any such thing.”

“You’re not angry,” she said slowly.

A not entirely accurate assessment. Anger stirred through his belly, like a sleepy leviathan. But he’d never found giving into it worth the cost of his temper. “I daresay you had your reasons.”

You had better have had your reasons.

Her gaze lowered.

It was the first time she’d ever yielded, but it seemed whatever she was searching for couldn’t be found in the foaming head of her ale. “Solveig promised you were not to be harmed. She would set the pair of you free within the week. And yes. I had my reasons.”

“Were they worth it?” he murmured, leaning closer. “Worth betraying us?”

“Yes. They were.” Light stirred on the flutter of those red-gold lashes. “I owed you no allegiance. You were a means to an end. A job.”

And here came the counterattack….

He lifted a hand and gently brushed the end of her braid over her shoulder, determined not to let her bury the pair of them in anger. “Strange. Because I was under the impression there was something building between us.”

Bryn froze.

“Stop it,” she said, tugging her face away sharply. “Stop touching me.”

There was a fierceness to her expression that made all his senses tighten. He’d seen that look in a cornered dragon. Injured and lashing out because there was nowhere safe to go. He’d never told Haakon the truth—that he’d let that creature go, because killing it wasn’t in him.

He curled his hand into a fist. “What’s so dangerous about a simple touch?”

“There’s nothing dangerous about it. I just don’t want it.”

Tormund stilled, watching her. “I think you’re lying.” He held up his hands. “You want these on your skin. You’ve always wanted these on you. And I think the reason you won’t let me touch you is because you don’t think you’ll want me to stop once I do.”

A flash of fury lit her eyes, but there was something else there.

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