Roar (Stormheart #1)(26)

Duke meant his words to be reassuring, but it was not enough. It worried Locke that she hadn’t woken, and it bothered him more that he was torn up over a girl he did not know. He had not survived this long by being softhearted.

She would wake. He would find her somewhere safe to stay. His status as a hunter meant plenty of people would jump at the chance to do him a favor. He could find her a job. Something that would pay well. There wasn’t much time to do it in, but he couldn’t leave Pavan with this still weighing on him.

The crew came and went, bringing in merchandise from the booth as the market closed up. Each time they ducked into the tent, their eyes tracked to him, and then Roar.

Bait, a sixteen-year-old novice hunter, was the first to do more than look. He squatted down beside Roar and reached out for the scarf wrapped around her head.

“Bait, if you put a finger on her, I’m going to break it off.”

A chuckle sounded behind him, and his friend Ransom clapped a hand on his shoulder. Ran had joined the crew two years after Locke. He had been sixteen to Locke’s thirteen, and they hated each other at first, both vying for Duke’s approval. Now he was the closest friend Locke had. And Ran was giving Locke a knowing look that only made him more agitated.

“She’s pretty,” Ran said.

Locke only grunted in response, and his crew rumbled with laughter around him, which only gave him the urge to pace again.

“You’re awfully touchy about this one. What exactly were you doing with her before I came in?” That was Jinx, who sat at the table enchanting jars for their next hunt. She winked, and he scowled.

“It’s not like that. She reminds me of my sister.”

The tent fell silent. He didn’t talk about his sister, ever. But it was a poorly kept secret among the group. Everyone knew he had watched her die. He’d had nightmares when he was young that had given away that secret. Luckily these days, he didn’t dream at all.

Ran was the first to speak, squeezing Locke’s shoulder. “Well, in that case, I look forward to meeting this girl.”

Maybe it was disingenuous to let his team think that’s all it was. Locke would be lying if he said he looked at her like he might a sister. Ran was right … she was pretty. He’d have to be scorching blind not to think so. But he didn’t want them harping on this, not when he still hadn’t puzzled it out himself.

His foul mood kept most of the others away as they waited for Roar to wake. Jinx was the only one brave enough to broach the territory he had staked out. She didn’t say anything—she just sat with him and waited. Jinx was more how he imagined a sister would be. She was loud and opinionated, and she made hurricanes look tame when she didn’t get her way. But she understood that being there was more important than saying the right words. He imagined that was the earth witch in her. She knew the importance of balance.

Eventually, he started to doze and decided to catch a quick nap. He was a light sleeper, a necessity on the road, and he knew he’d wake as soon as Roar made a noise. So he pulled a pillow beneath his head, sprawled out on the ground beside her, and slept.

*

Rora’s head throbbed as she woke, and her neck and back joined the chorus. She had woken midroll when her face slid off a pillow onto a thick, rough carpet. Next to her was a mountain of a man stretched out on his stomach. He had both hands shoved beneath a pillow, and his shoulder-length hair was in wild disarray around his face, but the name came back to her quickly.

Locke.

She sat up sharply, her head spinning. Locke jerked awake next to her. He pushed up onto his side, eyes wild and body tense. Then his eyes fell on her, and he softened.

“How do you feel?” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

She heard shuffling from somewhere beyond him and noticed a group seated at the back of the tent, quietly playing cards. Jinx stood and made her way over.

“Princess?” Locke asked, yanking all her attention back to him. Her hand flew to the scarf around her head, and she sighed when she found it still in place.

Jinx knelt beside her. “Need some help with that? You’ll probably feel better without it.”

Rora scrambled back. In an instant, Locke was up with a hand in front of Jinx to stop her approach.

“Easy,” he said to Rora. “Calm down. You were bleeding and you fainted. Do you remember?”

Rora nodded. She hadn’t known that was what fainting felt like—that awful, nauseating disorientation, like someone had stuck his hand in her head and stirred around.

“When was the last time you ate something?” Locke said.

She said, “This morning? Maybe. Or yesterday. I’m not sure.”

Locke cursed and called out, “Ransom?” A beast of a man put down his cards and stood. His head was bare, but he wore a sizable beard and had shoulders wider than two normal people put together. Locke continued: “Can you get her something to eat?”

The man nodded and strode out of the tent.

Rora began crawling to her feet. “I have to go. I have to go right now.” How long could she stay here without them realizing who she was? It seemed they were nomads of a sort, so they might not recognize her, but she was tired and risked giving herself away if she wasn’t careful.

A firm hand settled over her shoulder, wrenching her back onto the carpet. “No, you don’t,” Locke said. “Eat first.”