Iron and Magic (The Iron Covenant #1)(36)

Twice in one night. He’d have to replace the door if this continued.

Hugh poured himself another cup of water. For a few seconds, while she’d been in the room screaming at him, he’d felt alive. He lost it again and he could already feel the void drawing closer, but he’d tasted freedom in those fleeting moments and he wanted more.





Elara paced in her room. Traces of her magic slipped out of her, trailing her body. The gentle glow of custom fey lanterns bathed the room in a soothing buttery-yellow glow, but her temper needed a hell of a lot more than some ambient light to soothe itself.

That asshole.

That fucking bastard.

When she’d insisted on the joint decision provision, she was thinking of limiting his reach. At the time, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable choice.

Elara closed her eyes and whispered, projecting her voice. “Savannah.”

The echo of her power flew through the castle, finding its target. Savannah was on her way.

Elara wanted to march back into Hugh’s bedroom and crush him with her power until he groveled. To wipe that smug grin off his face.

She stopped and took a deep breath. Her magic swirled out and Hugh stood in her room, exactly as she remembered him, a perfect copy of the man, just slightly transparent when she looked at a fey lantern through him.

She circled him, examining the broad powerful shoulders, the sculpted arms, the flat stomach, the tree trunk legs… Built to crush all opposition. The man emanated a predatory confidence. If he said he would kill something, it would die. She was sure of it now.

A trail of faint scars marked his chest, no more than light lines across his left pectoral, over the heart, ribs, and side. She’d felt him heal his people. He had to be able to heal himself, or he would have a lot more scars.

What sort of damage was severe enough to resist his healing?

Food for thought.

Shapeshifters sometimes radiated a predatory power too. Theirs came from the natural sleekness of their lines, from the way they held themselves, ready to burst into action, never one hundred percent comfortable in either of their skins, always expecting an attack. Hugh had a different flavor. The shapeshifters were born into their power; he achieved his. His body was trained and honed, and the arrogance came from experience.

She looked into his blue eyes. There was something else there, in the eyes. A bone-deep weariness as if something gnawed on him, and no matter what happened, life hadn’t fully reached him. She’d seen that same look in him when he carved the mercenary apart. There was no anger, no satisfaction. Just methodical precision. He’d decided it had to be done, so he did it.

It would be so much easier if he was an idiot, but no. D’Ambray was sharp and manipulative. She couldn’t trust a single word coming out of his mouth. He would pretend to be a man’s best friend, then stab him in the back and keep moving. He said one thing, did another, and thought only he knew what. She had no idea where he actually stood on anything.

And yet they clashed against each other like fire and ice. He hadn’t bothered to manipulate her. Why? Did he think she wasn’t worth the effort?

No answers hid in his eyes. Elara took a step back and looked at him again.

“Nice specimen,” Savannah said from the doorway.

“He is.”

“Vanessa certainly thinks so.”

“Vanessa likes attaching herself to dangerous men.” Elara shrugged.

“Tell me you’re watching them.”

“I know every whisper that passes between them. What do you think of him?”

“Brutal. Efficient. Trouble. To be watched. Take your pick.” The older woman swept into the room. The light of the fey lantern brought out the rich red undertone to her skin. Normally a green wrap hid her curly hair, but right now it was down, floating about her head like a storm cloud. Power emanated from Savannah, vibrant and strong. So strong.

“What do you need?” the head witch asked.

“The palisade,” Elara said.

“Conrad told me.”

“Do we still buy supplies from that trader, Austin Dillard?”

“He comes around.”

“Next time he comes around, someone might mention that there is a palisade near the Old Market in need of supplies, except we haven’t heard from them in a bit.”

“Someone will mention it. Do you want a divination?”

Elara shook her head. “Conrad didn’t get inside to take anything to anchor the vision, and I’m not sending anyone to retrieve anything. Whatever took those people could come back. Besides, they would leave the signatures of their magic and their scent at the scene, and I don’t want to chance it. I just need d’Ambray to see reason.”

She stared at Hugh some more.

“We can always poison him, you know,” Savannah said.

“Hugh?”

“Mhm. Something quick and sweet. He’ll fall asleep and never wake up. Won’t even know what hit him.”

Elara grimaced. “We can’t. We need his army.”

“Men.”

“Yes. Can’t live with them, can’t kill them.” Elara crossed her arms.

“What’s upsetting you?” Savannah asked.

“He makes me angry, Savannah. Raging angry.”

“Has it been calling to you?”