Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(103)

“Yes, ma’am.” Durin looked at him. “Sir?”

“Keep the shifts short and make sure rations are generous,” Tiago told him. “Everybody’s tired. I don’t expect we’ll be moving now until tomorrow morning. I’ll come by later today to see if there’s anything you need to discuss. That will be all for now, captain.”

“Yes, sir.” Durin bowed his head to Niniane and left.

“Speaking of tired,” Tiago said. He looked at Cameron. “Get some bunk time while you can.”

“Good idea, if you’re sure you don’t need me,” said Cameron. She turned to go.

“No, wait!” Niniane said, her pixie face filled with alarm. She grabbed the other woman’s arm. “Lie down in my bed.”

Cameron’s face softened. “Niniane, you need your bed.”

“I don’t need it any time soon,” she said, her expression turning stubborn. “And I don’t want you going off by yourself.”

Cameron looked at him. He raised his eyebrows and said, “You heard her. Go to bed.”

Cameron’s face creased with exasperated amusement. “Remember, I’ve also heard you two when you argue. I never would have guessed you could present such a united front.”

Niniane smiled at him, and for a moment all the shadows in her eyes had vanished. She said, “We’re learning as we go.”

“And we’re doing a damn-fine job of it,” he added.

“And on that note,” Cameron said. She put an arm around Niniane’s slender shoulders for a quick squeeze. Niniane gave her a quick fierce hug in return, and then Cameron retired to the other part of the tent and they were finally alone.

Tiago walked to the wooden chair where his steaming cup of coffee and the leather-wrapped package waited on the floor. He shrugged off his sword harness, placed the scabbard on the floor then sat and stretched his legs with a grunt. It was a good, sturdy chair of Dark Fae construction, with interlocking parts that could be disassembled for easier transportation. It bore his weight and size well. He approved.

“I have a lap that requires a faerie’s presence,” he remarked to the room in general.

Niniane’s tired face lightened. She approached, and he gathered her up, wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder and let her body go lax with a sigh. He rested his cheek against her soft, fragrant hair.

I have been waiting quite patiently, he said. For which you may compliment me any time you like, but now I want to know what upset you before you went to bed.

He felt the relaxation leave her body. His mood, already not the best, darkened further. His arms tightened.

Silence stretched out. Then she said, “Can we agree that events have been moving at an extraordinary pace?”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“Have we not also agreed that we will trust each other to do our jobs?”

His eyes narrowed. Another nod.

She walked small fingers across his chest. “Shall we consider the possibility that our jobs might also entail assimilating all of these new events and decisions we have made?”

“Yes,” he said between his teeth. “Faerie, you should know I am no longer enamored with this line of reasoning—”

“No arguments,” she ordered. She tapped a finger against his lips. He sighed and pressed a kiss to the admonishing finger. “Perhaps we should then conclude that the troubles I went to bed with may not necessarily be of real concern at this point in time, especially with so many other urgent matters that require our attention.”

“Nope,” he said. “That was a good try but it doesn’t fly. You promised you would talk to me about what upset you. I’m holding you to it.”

Another silence, a tense one this time. Then she pushed upright to look into his eyes gravely. “I did promise, didn’t I?” she said. “I’m sorry, Tiago. I talked with Carling, who pointed out some unpleasant facts about you and me and this new life we’re trying to build with the Dark Fae.”

“That crazy-assed bitch,” he growled. “I swear to God I’m going to—”

She clapped a hand over his mouth before he could go further. She demanded, “Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”

He took a deep breath, made himself calm down and kissed the palm of her hand. “My turn to apologize,” he said. “I’m sorry, go on.”

“There’s not much more to tell,” she said. “She just pointed out we can only hope for a certain amount of acceptance but no more. No one will believe that you don’t intend to share the throne if we were to marry. And nobody, not the Dark Fae and certainly not any of the other demesnes, will accept half-Wyr children as potential heirs to the Dark Fae throne.”

He grew grim as she talked. “What was the part that hurt you the most?”

Her gaze fell.

Everything clenched inside him. Maybe you can’t make this better, she had said. Sometimes things just hurt. A ball of burning lava lodged in his chest. “It was the thought of never having children, wasn’t it?”

She shook her head. “It started there, but you know, mostly I think I’m having a problem with the concepts of ‘forever’ and ‘never.’ I don’t want to think in absolutes. I’m not dying to have children, but I also don’t want to say I’ll never have them, especially just to placate other people. And I am not thrilled with the thought of committing to the Dark Fae throne for the rest of my life, especially today of all days.” She looked up, met his gaze, and the shock of the connection between them was deeper and more profound than ever. She whispered, “There’s only one thing and one person right now I am wholly committed to, and that’s you.”