Between Tides Thunder(104)

“She’s not yours to command,” Zev grits out. He pulls me closer against him. But it’s not just out of protection. It’s fear. Fear that I’ll say yes.

“I will respect her decision,” his mother says, arms crossed.

My heart batters my ribs.

This is my chance. I can have my revenge on my father.

I can be free of Zev.

Except I’m not sure that’s what I truly want. Even after last night.

My eyes seek out his—anguish mars every line of his tanned face. I’ve never seen such fear, not even when he was strung up in the Tundrayni camp. Like he’s afraid I’m about to tear his heart from his chest. Again.

I bite my lip, turning to face his mother.

“How can I trust you?”

“Trust is built over time. I don’t expect to earn it immediately. But I swear by the Flames, Mayah, I mean you no harm.” Her eyes cut to Zev, almost in challenge. She waits a moment, then adds, “And your husband is welcome to join us, if he chooses.” She pointedly eyes his iron grip on my arm, where I’m certain his fingerprints are seared into my skin.

I don’t have an answer.

“I—”

A muffled shout filters into the clearing. Then again, closer this time. It almost sounds like my name.

A frantic thudding of boots, then a slender figure rushes in through the trees, twin braids swaying.

“Mayah!”

My heart stops.

Clear, blue eyes set in a heart-shaped face.

Her lips curve into a bright, lopsided smile.

For a moment, I don’t believe it. I’m seeing ghosts. My vision slants, like the ground beneath me has gone askew. But then she says my name again in that sing-song lilt I know like my own breath, and the world shifts back into place.

“Mayah-bear!”

I blink once. Twice.

“Sura?”

She grins, and I wrench away from Zev and run—because that’s what you do when someone you love comes back from the dead. Sura staggers backward as I barrel into her, tears flowing down my cheeks, mingling with the drizzling rain.

“You’re alive,” I gasp, clutching her face between trembling hands. “How? How?”

Sura’s gaze turns sharp as it knifes through Zev. “It was chaos the night he incinerated our camp. But Tumaas and I escaped under the cover of dark. A few others, too. Then Tairna found us.” She nods toward Zev’s mother.

“Tumaas?” My heart might burst. “He’s alive, too?”

She nods. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

I draw back and drink her in, hands still cradling her face. Her features have sharpened over the years. But Tides, it’s my Sura.

“Why didn’t you come home?”

Her face falls. “Your father … he’d have just sent us back to the front lines eventually. I’m sorry, Mayah.” She laces her fingers through mine, where my hands still cradle her face. “Come with us.”

I glance back at Zev.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. But his storm dies down, unraveling like thread from the sky.

He knows I’ve chosen.





CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE




“I’M SO SORRY ABOUT the iron,” Sura says for the hundredth time. Her knee grazes mine as the carriage lurches forward. We’re crammed in here—Zev and I sandwiched together on one side, Sura across from us. Her gaze flits between the slim cuffs on my wrists and the thick shackles around Zev’s. She purses her lips, and I know the apology is meant only for me.

After we agreed to go with them, one of the rebels quickly cuffed Zev, then me. The burly man had intended to collar Zev as well, and if not for the iron, I might’ve sent an ice spear hurtling through him. I couldn’t stomach the thought of Zev in an iron collar because of me—again. But luckily, Tairna had stepped in and insisted the shackles were enough to restrain him.

Still, my chest tightens now at the sight of the iron glinting around his thick wrists. Sura clears her throat, and I tear my gaze away. “It’s all right,” I murmur, bumping into Zev’s side as the carriage jostles again. My skin burns beneath the fabric separating us. “A precaution you needed to take.” The words taste like ash in my mouth.

“Yeah. Especially considering…” She trails off, her cool gaze landing on Zev. His hands flex, but he ignores her thinly veiled jibe. Like he’s ignored the last hundred of them.

“You’ve been well, Mayah?” my best friend asks, eyes shadowed with concern. “And Daak? How is he?”

Zev stills, spine going rigid. The air in the cramped space seems to grow colder. I’m surprised my breath doesn’t mist when I exhale shakily.

“Daak is dead,” I whisper.

A ragged gasp tears from Sura’s lips. “Tides carry him to peaceful waters. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, you must’ve been—”

“Tell me about the Rebellion,” I interject quickly, trying to mask the quiver of my chin. I glance sideways at Zev, gauging his reaction. His stony gaze is fixed outside the smudged window, a muscle ticking in his jaw, knuckles white as snow.

Tides drown me. When did my grief twist into something that hurt more for Zev than for Daak?

Sura bites her lip, glancing at Zev.