Page 17 of The Scouts

“And?”

“And nothing. She kissed me. I turned her down.”

In the deafening silence, my breathing had grown ragged.

He gave me a funny look. “Remember that first time we watched the sunset by the fallen tree?”

As if I could ever forget.

I nodded.

“I haven’t been with anyone else since. Nor did I once want to.”

As far as confessions went that night, it was like hitting the target dead centre with one arrow, then sailing another one straight through it.

When I thought myself able to control my voice again, I grumbled, “What’s with all the women everywhere wanting to kiss you, eh?”

His shoulder rose in a one-sided shrug. He peeked at me from beneath his lashes and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. Doing it again. “How about you? Don’t you want to kiss me?”

Damn right, I did. And I wasted no time in cupping the back of his head with my rough hand and dragging him over to me. Showing him who he belonged with. Claiming the mouth of the man I loved and who loved me back. And he surrendered to it with such easy sweetness, my soul ached.

Ine could get fucked in her swanky carriage for all I cared.

Things were about to get all hot and bothered between Lochan and me. Right then—of course—a thumping sounded on the door.

“Lads?”

I recognised the muffled voice of Kudiyés. His presence—given that he often acted as Heinnés’ orderly—meant the shit storm I’d expected had indeed hit the coast.

“The commander wants to see you. At once. So shake a leg.”

Swearing under our breaths, we got ourselves up and straightened out as fast as we could.

In the corridor outside, Kudiyés gave us a thorough once-over. “The hell did you do? He’s pissed as fuck.”

* * *

Chapter 5

THE LAST HARVEST

Gwhwÿn

ERVYN

Kudiyés didn’t lie. That became evident the moment we entered the commander’s study.

Unlike the last time, we weren’t offered a seat or treated to liquor. What came our way was a major bollocking delivered in front of our two lieutenants—Breaés and Javyés.

Heinnés—worked up just like when we’d accidentally destroyed the wrong settlement on inaccurate intel—stared daggers at us.

“Do you know who paid me a visit at sunrise?” He leant forward and rested his palms on the desktop, causing the furniture to creak. “Commander Gurreyés of the City Guard. And let me tell you, he was livid. Venom-spitting furious. If he files a grievance, my arse will be buried in paperwork till the Queen’s Namesday.”

Shit. Heinnés despised paperwork. It made him cranky beyond irrational.

“I hear that one of mine”—the commander glowered at me, exaggerating the words as if citing a direct quote—“thought it a grand idea last night to get legless and start a melee in a tavern. Then, this here one-man-death-squad”—he pointed at Lochan, who received the same narrow look—“swooped in, vandalised the place and fucked up a dozen city guards, leaving no one standing.”

I couldn’t deny it sounded bad when he put it like that.