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A deep raspy voice called again, “Meira?” Heavy footfalls accompanied the question. Was that anger he heard in the man’s voice?
But Meira kept walking. It was actually Remis who dared a glance at the person who was quickly approaching. A tall muscular man with blond locks tied back at his nape and wearing the same leathers Meira wore. Another scale rider then. He did know her. Why would she run?
The man caught up, snagged Meira by the wrist, and forced her to a stop. Frustration flared inside of Remis as he glared down at the hand that held his witch.
“Meira. Dragons. What happened to you?” Whoever this was, he was turning pink with anger. He cast an even darker look toward Remis who straightened his shoulders.
“Let me go, you’re hurting me,” Meira said through her clenched teeth.
“What the fuck are you doing? We thought you got hurt or worse were dead after you went after that dragonis. And now I find you here with some stranger?”
She strained against this man’s hold and Remis swore his vision pinpointed on the white knuckles surrounding her wrist. “I can explain if you just—”
“You’re damn right you’ll explain. Tell me now why we shouldn’t cast you out of the legion?”
“I can’t. Not here.” She tugged at his hold on her again.
Remis shoved a hand into the man’s chest, sending him stumbling back a step but causing him to let Meira go. “She asked you not to touch her.”
“And who the fuck—” The man’s attention caught on the fabric circled around Remis’ hand. His eyes bulged as he stepped forward and ripped the fabric until the huntress mark showed. “No.” He gave half a laugh. “No, not possible.” Then he tugged the glove off Meira’s hand exposing their matching marks. “Meira. Tell me what I’m thinking right now isn’t true. Tell me you’re not a damn witch.”
All the blood had drained from Meira’s face as the man spit the word ‘witch’ out like it was poison and she stood utterly frozen in place.His eyes were roaming over her, searching, wide, wanting, and full of rage.
“Tell me it’s not true!” the stranger yelled, spittle flying from his lips. All eyes were turning toward them now, conversations quieting for a chance to listen to the spectacle happening. Meira only looked down at the ground and fisted her hand.
Wind passed before Remis’ face. The motion had been so fast he hadn’t even seen it coming. One heartbeat they were standing toe to toe with this angry man and the next Meira was on the floor clutching her reddened cheek while he stood above her with murder in his eyes.
31
Meira
Dirty blond hair and brilliant green eyes she’d recognize anywhere, though she hadn’t expected to see this particular person today when they’d entered The Bearded Maid. Bram stepped into the tavern with Valen Brendal at his side, all stoic features and brawn. It’d been days since she’d last seen her legion leader yet it felt like weeks, months even. She was so deeply different now, in a way she couldn’t quite explain, but he still looked exactly the same.
Panic had driven her out of her seat and to Remis’ side. Though she’d hurried that hadn’t stopped him from seeing her. Now she lay against the sticky floorboards, holding her stinging cheek. She’d seen the hit coming, recognized the way his body tensed before he swung, but he was her superior, and part of her believed that she deserved this for abandoning her mission. With a snap of her fingers and a surge of power, she could move through time again, go back to minutes earlier, and disappear before he even arrived. But somehow, having this truth out between them was more of a relief than she anticipated…and now she knew exactly how he felt about it.
He hated her.
That’s what shone in those dark green eyes she’d once found an escape in.
Perhaps Bram hated her, but at least he knew now.
It was just another nail in the coffin of what had been something of a relationship and the one thing that would change her entire life.
Metal was pulled hastily from a sheath, the whisper of the movement a promise of death. Remis was between her and Bram now, his sword drawn and pointed for Bram’s heart. The snarl that left him was animalistic, and drew even more attention from the room. “I don’t give a damn who you are, you will not touch her again, or I’ll have your neck. Do you understand?”
Bram tore his gaze from Meira and turned his anger toward Remis. Those lips she’d once kissed were pulled back in a terrible snarl. “You don’t have to worry about me. She’s no longer my concern.” She stood and let Bram look her over, knowing now what she truly was. “Meira Spektor, your crimes will be brought before the elders. You are dismissed from Crimson Legion.”
There it was.
Everything she’d fought for ripped from her hands because of what she’d been born into. She’d sweat, bled, and fought alongside the scale riders, but they wouldn’t have a witch in their ranks.
With his hands raised, Bram stepped back from the end of Remis’ sword. Behind him, Valen watched with keen interest, though he said nothing. Their images both blurred as tears stung her eyes. She refused to blink, lest one of them fall. Bram wouldn’t see her cry.
Remis sheathed his sword and one of his hands found her bicep. “Let’s go.”
She let him turn her toward the door and lead her away from the prying gazes of The Bearded Maid. Bram’s voice carried after them. “I truly hope you find a safe place to hide.” The anger had drained from his tone, his voice had softened, and Meira understood the sincerity in his words. It was the last of whatever love he might have held for her, the only warning he would be able to give.
Pulling her hood back over her face, Meira hoped it would hide her scarlet cheek and red-rimmed eyes. A sob clogged her throat. Panic and sorrow mingled together inside her until it felt like a weight was settling over her chest, crushing her. Suffocating her.
