Fearless (Nameless #3)(23)
They’d been friends since traveling to this small valley together as children—had played together, laughed together. He’d been the big brother she and Tess had needed. In a way, not loving him felt like its own brand of betrayal, making his ugly lie seem small by comparison. “Gabe.” She took a step toward him, hesitant and uncertain. “I have always loved you and will always love you. But—”
“Don’t,” he said. “I can’t hear the rest.”
“But, my love for you is like the love I have for Tess. Constant. Familial.”
He stood erect, not meeting her gaze as he stared over her head. His nostrils flared and his face crumpled into a pained expression. “Just tell me. Can you forgive me?” he asked.
The simple question made Zo’s throat thick with emotion. “Can you forgive me?” she asked, leaving off the painful words: for not loving you in return …
Gabe pulled her to him with such speed, Zo didn’t have a moment to brace herself for the contact of Gabe’s body pressed against hers. He squeezed her with Kodiak force, compressing the air from her lungs and sending sharp pain through her ribs and sore muscles. Then he cupped her face in his hands and spoke with gentle ferocity. “I will always be here for you, Zo.”
But how could he keep such a promise? And how could she accept it? No matter how much she wanted a safety net in life, she refused to use Gabe as an alternative to Gryphon.
He deserved better.
Gabe backed a step away. Then another. Finally, after one last, long look, he turned and walked into Commander Laden’s tent, likely to give a report of his travels since leaving the Camp.
Zo hugged her arms to her tender stomach, still shaken by their conversation. She replayed every word and relived every touch in her mind. She didn’t know how long she stared at the tent—maybe two minutes, maybe an hour—before a large hand—a different hand—pressed against her lower back.
She startled, but instantly relaxed when a glance from the corner of her eye confirmed it was Gryphon.
“You all right?” His deep, rolling cadence—the accent of the enemy—was like being swathed in a warm blanket.
“Gryphon.”
His dark hair fell into his warm brown eyes. He looked between her and the tent. “What do you need?” Four words. So simple, yet so precisely encompassing why she’d grown to love him. Gryphon, the selfless Ram, who saw a world in need. Gryphon, willing to right every problem around him.
Zo bit her lip and took his hand in hers. “I think I could use some time away from camp.”
Gryphon nodded, but glanced over his shoulder at the four guards Laden had tailing him. “Any chance you pups want to give us a few minutes?”
Zo tugged on Gryphon’s hand and pushed onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “You shouldn’t bait them. They’re here to protect you.”
A muted, cynical laugh rolled from Gryphon’s chest. “A nice sentiment, Zo. But they’re here to protect the camp.”
Zo frowned. “We’re going for a walk,” she said over Gryphon’s shoulder, daring the guards to defy her. “I’ll see Gryphon back to his tent in an hour or so.” She paused, sensing an argument from them. “You don’t want to make an enemy of the camp healer, soldiers. Not before a war.”
Zo tugged on Gryphon’s arm, pulling him in the opposite direction.
“No way that works,” Gryphon muttered under his breath.
“Just don’t look back,” said Zo. “I’m practically Laden’s daughter, and I’ve risked my life for the cause. They’ll back off.” She honestly doubted it; Laden didn’t stand for any level of insubordination. Still, she hoped to scare them enough into keeping watch from a distance. At this point, she’d take any time she could get with Gryphon.
Gryphon and Zo passed the northern training fields and walked through the rows of maize and wheat to the foothills at the north of the valley. They headed toward the slot canyon where they had entered the camp, taking a trail to the west until it met the sheer mountainside.
“The view up here is amazing!” Zo stretched her arms out wide, ignoring the pain in her ribs, and peered back in the direction they had come. There was no sign of Gryphon’s guards. The thought made her smug and more than a little surprised. She drew in a large breath of mountain air and absorbed the red glow of the dying sun as it cast its final rays across the valley. “Especially at dusk, when campfires light up the valley and the stars come out.”
When Gryphon didn’t respond, she turned around and asked, “Are you all right?”
He stood silent, his expression tense and somehow primal.
“Gryphon, I—”
Zo’s question turned into a light scream when Gryphon, the Ram, charged her. He wrapped his arms around her legs and hoisted her over his shoulder.
Zo’s laughter turned into a gasp of pain with the jarring motion.
He stopped, skidding over loose rock and dirt, at the sound of her cry. “What’s wrong?” He gently lowered her to the ground, scanning her face for the source of her pain.
Zo waved away his concern. “It’s nothing. Just a little sore.” Her hand went to her ribs out of habit.
Gryphon frowned. “Sore from what?”
Zo shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just woke up with it hurting.”