Wilde's Army (14 page)

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Authors: Krystal Wade

Tags: #YA, #paranormal romance, #urban fantasy

BOOK: Wilde's Army
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Arland chuckles, sweet and reassuring. “Your skin looks as beautiful as the day I met you.”

“Great. So you’re telling me I’m covered in dirt?” It’s nice to joke. Wonderful even. I’ll never take my body for granted again. I want to live before I die.

“Yep, that’s what he’s telling you,” Brit chimes in. “Are you going to open your eyes sometime today?”

“I’m working on it.” The fear of opening my eyes is unreal. I know I should let it go, but I’m not ready. What if they’re just being polite and I’m a beast marked for the rest of my life?

“Do not rush her, Brit. I’m not sure I have ever seen anything quite so spectacular in my life. Kate is probably in a bit of shock,” Mom says.

“I don’t think I’d call that spectacular, Mom. That was more like something out of a horror movie.” Brit’s hostility towards Mom tells me the two have not reconciled … not that I was expecting them to just yet.

“Bri—”

“What Kate does not need is to listen to anyone fighting. We need to move her inside, get her something to eat and drink. Do you two believe you can handle that?” Arland asks, raising his voice to a level I haven’t heard before.

“Yes,” they say in unison.

“Kate, you will feel my hands sliding under you. Remember, you do not have any more wounds. Tell me if you experience pain, and I will stop.” Arland sounds as though he’s speaking to a small child.

I nod.

“Saraid, Kate’s appearance is going to cause a scene. Can you clear the path for us back to the cave?”

“Of course,” Mom says. Rocks crunch under her feet at a rapid pace.

“Brit, find Perth and Cadman. See if either of them had any forethought to bring clothes or blankets back from base.”

“Clothes. I can do clothes.” Judging by the sounds of quick footsteps, Brit also runs up the path.

“Flanna—”

“Get food, right Arland?” Flanna sounds empty, deflated … sad.

She’s just lost her love, and she’s being sent on food duty. Things she hates to do, but only does because she’s one of the only women around.

“Yes, and something to drink,” Arland adds.

The weight of Flanna’s slow steps settles in my chest.

Arland places his fingers on my forearm. “Does this hurt?”

“No.” My arm hurting is of little consequence right now. “Is Flanna going to be alright? Are
you
going to be alright? Lann … he—”

“We will be fine. Lann is not the first friend we have lost. Flanna will need some time, but time is not something we have at the moment. We need to move you.”

So much death. So much loss. Now that I’m alone with Arland, I open my eyes. His brows are creased, but his expression brightens when he catches my gaze.

“This is kind of embarrassing, you know?” I try to improve the mood.

“This is not the first time I have seen you without your clothes on, and I am sure it will not be the last.” He unbuckles his belt.

“What are you doing?”

“I am giving you my tunic.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need it. Brit will have clothes for me soon.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, looking me over as if he’d like to hide me away.

I bite my lip, fighting back the heat rushing to my cheeks.

He grimaces but re-fastens his belt. Arland slides his arms under my shoulder blades and legs, then lifts me from the ground.

“Brit told me you are upset about me being hurt again.”

My heart flips in my chest. “You aren’t going to change your mind about the Binding?”

Arland shakes his head, then carries me toward the cave. “I am frustrated I continue to fail you, but my failures do not change my desire to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Arland, you couldn’t have known Enid was a daemon.
I
could have, though; just like I saw the daemons that had you and Brit. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.” Being carried naked
toward
other people is strange, but I focus all my anxiety about my lack of clothes into Arland. I cannot always have him take the blame for what happens to me or anyone else.

“No, Kate, Enid’s odd behavior should have been an obvious clue to her true identity, but we will not dwell on this tonight. There are too many other things to be worried about.” Arland blinks hard.

“Like what?”

“Like burying Enid and Lann, and getting everyone to Willow Falls,” he says, meeting my eyes. Arland is sad, but I know he’s desperately trying to hide it.

“Do you think I ever knew the real Lann?”

“I doubt it.”

“What was he like?”

“Lann was a good man. Similar to what the daemon portrayed him as, but I should have known something was wrong there, too. Lann would have told me you were at Watchers Hall from the moment I returned from Wickward. There were many clues I missed.”

“Arland.” I turn his face toward mine with my palm; his eyes fight some inner struggle. “Stop that! You cannot possibly take care of everyone.”

He pulls his face away. “There are also good things to worry about.”

“Good things to
worry
about?”

“Yes, for instance, being Bound to you.” Arland keeps his eyes focused on the path in front of us, but his mouth curves up a tiny bit.

“Why is marrying me something to worry about?”

“Our marriage is not something to worry about in itself, but we have yet to come up with a plan to convince the Ground Dwellers you are willing to be Bound to Perth. We also have to find a good reason why you should not be Bound to him. One that will somehow unite everyone. If you ask me, our marriage gives us quite a bit to worry about.”

“Well, my mom is in the cave, and I’m already naked. Why don’t we just have her Bind us here and get it over with already?”

He arches an eyebrow, making me regret my words.

I give my best shrug.

Arland stops halfway up the path and stares at me. “As intriguing as that sounds, would you not prefer to be clean and rested, and not have our marriage combined with all of this?”

He turns us around in circles. Other than the small patch of light shining down from above the cave, everything is dark. The air smells of mildew, sulfur, rot … death.

“You’re right. You always are.” I glance down myself. “I’m pretty hideous right now, too, huh?”

“You could never be hideous while naked in my arms, but filthy … . ” His green eyes reflect the sparse sunlight; his teasing smile torments my longing for him.

I can’t stand this anymore. “I think I can walk, Arland.”

He shakes his head. “You do not have to walk.”

“Really. I’m okay. I think I
need
to walk.” It’s astounding what desire can do to a person. People have died, I’m a disgusting mess and was moments from losing my life, and all I can think about is marriage and sex.

He sets me on my feet then looks me over. “You have no clothes, Kate.”

There’s no need to hide behind Arland; I gave him my dignity a long time ago. I meet his wandering eyes. “I didn’t have any clothes in your arms either.”

I close the space between us then tug at the end of his tunic. “Maybe you should give me your shirt? It’s long enough; it might cover most of me.”

Grinning, he unfastens his belt and allows it to fall to the ground. “I believe my tunic
will
cover most of you.”

Arland lifts the fabric over his head, allowing me to soak in the beauty of each perfectly sculpted muscle along his abs and chest, then helps me slip into the white cotton. Once my arms are through, I wrap them around his neck. He presses his hands against my back, bringing our bodies so close I’m aware of each breath he takes.

“You see? It covers everything—”

Arland’s lips are on my mouth before I can say another word. He threads his fingers through my hair, sending electricity coursing through my veins. My hands shake as they roam his body, teasing with the tips of my nails. Our lips move in a frantic need for more of each other. He trails his hands down my back, stopping just below the bottom of his shirt, and he presses me into him—

Arland startles and pulls away all too soon, leaving me hanging on for more.

Confused by his sudden departure from our kiss, I look up at him as his eyes lock onto something behind me.

Chapter Eleven

Glancing over my shoulder, I follow Arland’s gaze. Perth stares, holding out clothes. A chill hits my legs with enough force to make me want to crouch and wrap the tunic around them. I turn then back into Arland’s protective arms, but I desire the promise of warmth and my spared embarrassment in Perth’s hands.

The cold indifference he displayed when I first met him returns, except this time, one of his eyes is black. “Sorry to interrupt. I did not realize you two were incapable of keeping your hands off one another.”

Perth takes a step forward, dangling my necessities in front of him, just daring me to jump out and grab them.

Arland tightens his hold on me. “Why did Brit not come?”

“Katriona, your mother asked Brit to stay with the children. Flanna cannot manage to stop crying long enough to prepare your food, and the children do not like me. So here I am, offering you clothes. Are you going to take them?” Perth does not look at or address Arland.

He’s just been slighted. I cannot imagine this ending well. Nothing ever seems to end well in this world.

I turn my head to whisper in his ear. “Relax. Perth is a jerk. We know that, but he does act like he’s trying. He’s brought me clothes … things I need. I don’t think
you
need to hold onto me as though he’s going to drag me away.”

Arland doesn’t take his eyes from Perth.

“I am beginning to doubt your mother even more. Why would she send him out when she knew you were without clothing?” Arland keeps his voice low, but even as a whisper his tone is as rigid as his body.

“Maybe Leader Wilde realized you would give up your own tunic for Katriona.” Perth inches closer to us.

Arland relaxes his arms and releases me, but stays within inches as I reach out to take the clothes from Perth.

“Thank you.” I grab them then hide behind Arland to dress.

He faces Perth, acting as a shield.

The Ground Dweller turns away from us then turns his face toward the sky. “Your mother said you would not want to rest, but Arland would insist you did. She said the three of us had things we need to discuss.”

Arland mutters something inaudible.

I shake my head.

“Ignore him. I have a feeling my mom did say that,” I whisper.

The soft leather pants dissolve the cold ache in my bones the instant I slide my legs through, and the boots make me realize I have toes again.

So much better
.

“We do need to talk, Perth. But first, can you tell me why you thought to bring clothes from the base for me?”

He laughs, shrill and mocking. “You have a knack for getting yourself into trouble. Cadman and I agreed to bring extra sets for a couple of the men, women, and children, but we were aware you would need them more than anyone else.”

Arland’s eyes widen. “Since when are you aware of Kate’s clothing needs?”

“You act as though you disagree, Arland.”

Perth has a way of digging holes for himself, but Arland finds a way to allow the comment to float off, ignored.

I lift the borrowed tunic over my head then give it back to him and replace it with the one Perth brought. “I don’t have a knack for getting into trouble, and you know it, Perth. Why do you always instigate?”

He stretches out his arms at his sides. “I am sorry. It is in my nature. Years of bad traditions. You do have to admit, Kate, that you have been smacked in the head by a tree while on a horse, fainted when you fought off the daemons holding me captive—I do appreciate you saving me—and now a shifter has dissolved your clothing. However you wish to look at it, trouble finds you.”

Arland shifts his gaze from me to Perth, looking like he’d enjoy jumping off the cliff about now. There has to be a way to make Arland stop feeling so responsible for me, but he loves me—and he’s my Coimeádaí. I’m sure there’s nothing I can do to make his negative feelings go away.

I put on my best annoyed face and cross my arms over my chest. “You can turn around now.”

Perth turns on his toe with the grace of an ice skater, his expression closer to that of the ice than the skater. “I am sure I missed a few examples of you and trouble, did I not?”

“I have heard enough of this banter back and forth, Perth. Last time I checked, you were still under my direction, am
I
correct?” Arland squares his shoulders, straightens his back, and his tone levels and resonates with power. “We must talk, but this is not how it will take place. You are either on our side, as Kate says you are, or you are not, but there will be no more teasing.
Anyone
. Do you understand?”

Watching Arland transform from the sensitive man who loves me to the Leader he was born to be is amazing.

Perth looks Arland’s total opposite, holding up his hands apologetically. “I am on your side, but that is the problem, is it not? The fact that there are sides when we all should be fighting against the same evil. I know you do not like me—no one does. Just like my people do not like yours, but we need to overcome this.”

Arland pivots to face me. He takes my hands in his then holds my gaze. “Are you sure you do not need rest?”

Perth laughs and gives me a pointed look.

Now
I
have to ignore him. “I’m positive, Arland. We need to work out our plan and get to Willow Falls. It’s dangerous staying out in the open. We have the children to worry about and—”

“Okay, Kate, I know you wish to take care of everyone.” Arland tips his head in the direction of the cave.

“Take a seat up there. To give us some privacy, I will move those lingering outside the cave inside.” Arland holds out his hand in front of us and waits for Perth to go first.

We move along at an easy pace. Arland wraps his arm around my waist, but tension rolls off him in cascading waves. From his clenched jaw to his heavy breathing, nothing about him is happy. Working things out between the two of them—between all the Draíochta—will be no easy feat. This must be one of the tests Griandor told me about. I have two men willing to work together, but even they refuse to trust one another.

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