Page 48 of The Ashborn

He smiled, a rare sight. His expression was usually caught between constant observation and following the whispers, so when he did, Moira made sure to notice. He had the most perfectly straight teeth hiding behind his thin lips.

“Moira,” he said. She pouted as he called her by her name and not Sunbeam. It was how she knew he was about to shift to something more serious. “I must leave for Alverton today and then straight on to Holbeck.”

“Connak can’t send anyone else?” she asked, her brows weaving together.

“No.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Alverton is hostile. That is why the bridge is guarded day and night. He requires my expertise.”

He meant the shadows, of course. They were always dancing around his feet and sometimes within his hands. Tislin never talked about them, granted, Moira never asked. She wanted to respect his privacy. The mystery kept her heart guarded as much as his. Instead, she asked, “What’s going on in Alverton?”

“Weapons production for King Vaerin, we assume.”

Moira tilted her head. “He can produce weapons in River Storm. Why does he need Alverton for that?”

“He is but seven miles from his enemy. Easier to gather weapons along the road than bear their weight the whole journey.”

“Should we be worried?” Moira lived in a bubble in Dove Port. She never stopped to think that the war could continue to follow them. Her cheeks flushed at her own naivety. Of course, war resumed around them all. King Vaerin took each of them for a purpose, and they walked around this realm like they were entitled to it without the consequences of the king.

“Connak and I are working tirelessly to ensure your safety.”

Moira knew he meant the collective “your,” but she let herself believe the handsome, follow-the-wind Commander of the Blades and the mysterious, sexy Shadowmaster were only concerned about her. She’d never truly want it that way—to leave the others behind—but she could pretend for a moment to warm her heart.

Still, Tislin’s duties bothered Moira. “Do you use the shadows to do it?” Her gut told her not to ask, but she could see the way they pulled him. If he came back any less of himself because of it, she’d be devastated.

Tislin placed his forefinger on her chin. Her eyes closed instinctively as she leaned into it. He smelled like a controlled burn of sweet cedar. Worn leather clung beneath it with the hint of the air right before a storm. Moira adored the smell of a storm, a wave of desire pulling her. She wanted to curl inside Tislin’s arms and remain there.

“Tis.” She turned her chin toward him. “These shadows. Can you get rid of them?”

She expected him to react harshly. He never did with her, which was why she knew she loved him. The thought nearly stopped her heart.

“Alas, my Sunbeam, the shadows are a part of me. I took them on when I was young—a bargain struck to keep my brother alive.”

“Tristian?” Moira’s eyes scanned his.

“A Shade killed my mother while our father was away. Tristian fought as best he could until it rendered him unconscious. I offered it a deal instead.”

Questions swarmed Moira’s head. Surely the Shade was not in Trinity. Where did they live as boys? She wanted to know everything about Tislin and realized she knew so little. Fear lurched at her. “What deal did you make with a Shade?”

Tislin smiled softly, one that did not warm his features this time. “It is not a deal you need to concern yourself with, Sunbeam.” He glanced toward the window as a loud yelling erupted. “I must go. I’m to meet Connak at the shipyard, then I’m off. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Moira lifted her hand before he could turn, placing it on his cheek. His skin was soft, the way she’d expected it to feel. As her fingers brushed against him, the darkness of his eyes faded a little, almost as if the shadows recoiled. She would remember that for later in case she needed to find him in the darkness.

“Be safe,” she said, then turned before she could let the kicks in her womb send her spiraling into a vision she couldn’t bear to see.

—Kienna—

Ash asked Kienna to check on the ship and to make sure Fenlo and the gang were faring well with at least twenty Elvish Blades in their space. She wanted to say no, to beg him to do it himself because the minute she stepped out of the workshop, the bubble would pop, and her fury would burn. Kienna went anyway—for him. She went cautiously, deciding how she’d react if she saw Tislin or Connak. Her main concern rested on Connak, but Tislin surely knew who Ash was.

There was no way a man of the shadows would lack those secrets. Her fears were confirmed when she saw half of an erected ship. Danek was near the chaos, hoisting planks to the Blades with wind. Connak and Tislin were near Fenlo and Harn, looking at a blueprint and pointing near the top of the ship.

Kienna’s nose wrinkled, fists curling.

Ease yourself, Little Flame. Your hands are orange.

Even through the gloves, a flickering orange flame pulsed. She tried to pull it back, but they resisted. Kienna tugged her gloves down to ensure the charm remained on her wrist. It was snug to her skin, holding back a powerful pulse of hate-fueled energy. She pulled the gloves up and decided she’d be revealing more than her anger today.

“Hey!” she yelled, storming toward Connak and Tislin.

Ruva followed her. And we’re causing a scene.