Page 208 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

“Did you tell them the only thing you knew how to do with those knitting needles was stab someone?” It was a guess, but I was fairly certain it was true. I couldn’t picture her with the patience for any kind of needlework.

Sure enough, she sniffed in defiance.

“That felt like unnecessary information to share,” she said with a yawn before sneaking her frozen fingers under my tunic to press against my stomach. “I need to organize everyone into shifts.”

“That would be wise,” I said in response, pressing a kiss to her head and pulling her even closer. “But it can wait until tomorrow. You look exhausted, Lemmikki. For now, rest.”

Before your royal Lochlannian arse succumbs to hypothermia.Storms, we needed to work on her tolerance for the cold.

She yawned and nodded half-heartedly. Like all Socairan soldiers, I had trained extensively in the snow and sleet with limited gear and clothing, which was the only reason I didn’t wince outright when she slid her icy toes along my calves, pressing her entire shivering body against me until there wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t touching me.

“Only if you rest, too,” she countered between her chattering teeth.

Fortunately, she passed out before I was forced to lie to her about the likelihood of my being able to rest.

Instead, I waited until her skin warmed to an acceptable temperature and her limbs were so heavy with sleep that she wouldn’t notice when I crept away.

And then I picked up where I left off, because while I could hope Iiro wouldn’t move his troops in the night, I had no guarantees. And I would be damned if I let him get the upper hand while I had the nerve to sleep.

The next day, I took Pavel and Henrick to ride to the front, reassessing the line in the light of our latest plan of action.

It was working. We had gained ground since just yesterday. I focused on that instead of the river of corpses littering the space we had reclaimed. I didn’t want to look for too long at their faces, to discover how many of them I had trained firsthand.

More of the bodies were clad in purple than black, of course, but that was little comfort when the soldiers had no choice but to fight for their self-proclaimed king. They had died needlessly, at Iiro’s selfish whims.

All of them.

I added this battlefront to the growing list of sins he would answer for.

The days that followed passed in a blur of strategy and bloodshed. We continued to push the line out of our territory, just as we continued to pay the price for that in the blood of our own.

Every night, Rowan and I both returned to the tent well past midnight, and even she was back on her feet by sunrise. I didn’t realize how much I would miss her having the luxury of lounging in bed with the cat until I watched her frantically throw her dress on in the dark every morning, hardly taking time to don acloak before she rushed to the tent that still overflowed with the wounded.

She was later than usual tonight, enough that I considered going to the healer’s tent to cart her back myself. Finally, though, I heard the sound of her footsteps crunching through the snow. I added wood to the small fireplace before taking off my tunic so that I could warm her more quickly since her winters in Lochlann had in no way prepared her for the icy climate here.

The tent flap rustled as she entered and I turned expectantly toward her. She was always tired when she returned at night—we both were—but there was something more in her expression tonight, something both hollow and raw.

“Lemmikki?” I asked tentatively.

Instead of responding, she crossed the small distance to me, taking a deep, slow breath as she leaned her head against my chest. It was still so rare for her to let her guard down, especially here, in the middle of the war camp where she spent her days bathed in other people’s blood.

Even outside this camp, we had both come into this relationship wearing our battle armor, and removing it didn’t come naturally to either of us.

Instead of risking breaking this spell by speaking, I wordlessly wrapped my arms around her, pressing my lips to her head and trying to infuse her with whatever warmth I could. She breathed against my skin for several long moments of silence, like we were the only two people left in the eye of the storm.

Finally, she spoke, her voice as empty as her eyes had looked when she walked into the tent.

“I’m just so tired of watching people die.”

Though I knew the deaths had weighed on her, it was the first time she had admitted it. She was always so steadfast, so strong, but I should have realized that even my feral little lemmikkicouldn’t emerge on the other side of this without losing a part of her soul.

I took a slow breath, inhaling the remnants of citrus and amber that seemed to follow her everywhere, and let it out in a long exhale, pulling her a little closer.

There was no honest comfort I could give her. We didn’t know if this would be over soon. We didn’t know how many more deaths we would see before it was.

So I said the only honest thing I could. “So am I, Lemmikki.”

At least she would know she wasn’t alone. That I felt the weight on my soul as surely as she did.