“Oh, I trust you. I just can’t forget about that ‘arrogance’ thing.”

Somewhere to the side, Solat stifles a snort of amusement.

Aron just grins at me. “I know. This is why I have you at my side. You see things differently than I do. And this is an excellent idea. I cannot be killed as long as you are safe, Faith.” He cups my face in his big, gloved hands. “And the men will go with you. I will be the distraction. They will not know what to think when a second Aron of the Cleaver arrives. I will pull them away, and you will be able to sneak in to the keep.”

I fight back a sigh. “Fine. I don’t have to like this, but fine.” Realistically, I know he can’t get hurt. I know that. I do. I’m still utterly terrified though. If they see him, they’ll know he has an anchor somewhere and they’ll come after me.

What other choice do we have? I look down at the torn up battlefield, at the men that fling themselves at the stone walls even as others get mowed down by Hedonism Aron, and feel a hint of despair.

I don’t see how we’re going to get close enough.

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71

We remain a safe distance away from both city and battlefield as we wait for the sun to go down. Aron sits atop a rock and instead of practicing with the men, he holds me close and presses his mouth to my hair.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Faith. Trust in me.”

I love that he’s trying to comfort me in my obvious terror, but it doesn’t make me feel better. The only thing that would actually make me feel better would be if we didn’t do this at all. I know it’s not an option, though, so I keep my thoughts to myself. Kerren, Solat, and Markos talk in low voices, sharpening their swords and adjusting their traveling armor. We let the woales go, setting them free, because one way or another, our path ends here.

I try not to panic at how final that feels.

Despite my wishing that the day would never end, the sun goes down and we get to our feet. “Faith,” Aron murmurs as he presses a kiss to my palm one last time. “Take something for me, yes?”

“What?” I ask, curious.

He goes to his pack—now sitting in the grass—and pulls the long wooden staff from it. The staff he trained me to use. I bite back hysterical laughter. “You think I can bludgeon a zombie to death with this, then?”

“I just want to know you have a weapon you can use while you’re gone,” he says, and the look on his face is no longer easy or playful. “Markos, Solat and Kerren will protect you, have no fear with that. If they do not, I will make certain that they suffer eternally.”

It’s eerily quiet with that pronouncement. I glance over and see that the men are pale, their gazes averted. Markos’s hand twitches over his pommel, as if he wants to pull his blade and protect me even now.

I step closer to Aron as I take the staff from him. “You should be nicer to them.”

“A little fear will speed their footsteps,” he murmurs to me. His gaze devours my face, and for a moment I think he won’t let go of the staff. He finally releases it, though, and it’s like he’s releasing me, too. I can see the tension in his shoulders.

He hates this. He hates this so, so much. And that’s the only reason I don’t freak out. Because he’s taking this as seriously as I am.

Aron turns to the others. “Take only what you can carry easily. I will not have you encumbered. Your only goal is to get Faith into that keep alive. Do you understand me?”

The men nod and as I watch, Solat drops his pack and picks through it one last time, discarding a few items. A metal buckler—a plate-sized shield meant to attach to the arm—is discarded, and I pick it up. “Can I take this?”

Solat frowns at me. “Of course, but why?”

I pull out the neck of my gown, shove the buckler down the front of my dress, and then tap my chest. The lip of it rests against my thick Novoran belt and it remains in place right over my heart and breasts. “Because I want armor, too.”

His lips twist in a wry smile. “If they get that close to you, we’re already doomed.”

“Fair enough, but I like being safe.”

“You should go,” Aron says. “Before it gets too dark to see. I’ll wait until the moon is higher in the sky before I head out.”

I swallow hard and nod. I want to run to him and hold him tight in one last hug, but I also don’t want to be a pain in the ass. “Be safe, okay?”

He gives me a swift nod, and I turn away, moving toward Markos and Kerren. There’s a hard knot in my throat that I do my best to ignore, but I clutch the staff and head forward…to my destiny.

Man, just thinking that phrase makes me want to barf. I steel myself for the evening ahead. Please be safe, Aron—

A heavy hand lands on my shoulder.

I turn and Aron’s hard mouth is on mine, his hand on the back of my neck as he gives me the hardest, most fiercely possessive kiss ever. His tongue slicks into my mouth, claiming me with every stroke and reminding me that I love the hell out of this big, arrogant bastard. I cling to the front of his tunic, our mouths molding, and when he finally breaks the kiss, I give him a dazed look.

“Remember that you belong to me,” he says in a low voice. “And I do not give you permission to die.”

It’s the right thing to say. I laugh, because it’s the most absurdly arrogant thing I’ve ever heard. “I love you,” I whisper, and then move away before I fling myself at his feet, bawling like a baby. “Be safe.”

“I will.”

Arrogant right down to the end—no, right down to his pores, I amend.

This is not the fucking end.

We’re a lot farther away from the crypts than I anticipated. Aron told the others what to look for and the direction to head, and we hike silently down the cliffs and across hills, then cross the warm, gentle river far upstream. The light from a jillion fires is just barely in the distance, and if I squint hard, I can make out the castle’s walls ahead. We’re at least a football stadium away, maybe two. It seems like an impossible distance to cover.

Because there are enemy soldiers even here. They’re freaking everywhere. We barely manage to duck behind some bushes as a few men on horses patrol past, and armor clanks somewhere in the distance. We squat behind the greenery, and Solat points up ahead. “That looks like a cemetery.”

“It’s the place Lord Aron said it would be.” Markos nods. He turns to look at us. “Kerren and I will scout and try to clear the way. You stay here hidden. If we’re not back by the time Aron begins his diversion, go on without us.”

I bite my lip, nodding, and Solat fingers his sword. I watch as Markos heads in one direction and Kerren in the other, dark figures that stick to the shadows. Within the space of a breath, they disappear into the night, and I desperately hope they know what they’re doing.

Minutes pass. I turn to look over at Solat. “This is some shit, huh?”

His eyes narrow at me. “We will keep you safe, Faith. Aron demands it.”

There’s a bitter note in his voice. It’s been there ever since we left the tower, and I know it’s because he’s still carrying a torch for Yulenna. I don’t blame him. She was sweet, friendly, and apparently liked to fuck. Of course he’s half in love with her. But he needs to focus. I know he can’t be happy that Yulenna paired off with a god (or three) and he’s stuck here protecting me, the anchor of another god.

“Do we need to talk?” I ask. “Because you’ve been kind of pissypants since Yulenna left.”

Solat glares at me in the darkness. “Does it matter?”