Frayed Ties (Ties, Book 1) | ✓

Chapter 10

They left the camp two days later, Danya on his own horse this time and the men riding tall in full armour.

The horse had been given to him by Simon, who had looked like he expected Danya to be pleased so Danya had pretended to be. Really, he had no reason to object. Simon was providing him with enough contact that he was no longer neglected. Still, he never stopped craving more, and finding out that they would not travel pressed against one another had been a blow.

Slone didn't ride at all, though he did have a horse. He joked that he was so big that he pitied any animal that had to carry him, but he told Danya in private as he walked alongside his horse that he simply couldn't stand to sit for such a long time.

Once they were away from the camp and done putting on a show with their formal exit, the men dismounted and changed from their armour into more suitable riding gear.

Hamish, Roope, and Tris took it as an opportunity to enjoy one another, poking at scars and unnecessarily assisting with buttons and buckles.

Simon stood away from the others, offering a tantalizing view of the curve of his back and his broad shoulders as he changed. Danya considered for a moment going over and assisting him as Cailan was doing for Liam, but he couldn't see that being welcomed. There was still the unspoken rule that physical contact between them occurred only out of necessity.

A hand pressed down on Danya's shoulder and he startled as energy buzzed through him, but it was only Slone using him for balance so he could get his boots off.

Slone grinned. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle ya."

Danya shook his head. "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't let myself get so distracted."

Slone wrenched off his other boot and let go of Danya's shoulder. "Ah, well, might as well, right? Can't spend your whole life on high alert. Gotta take advantage when you get a chance to relax and enjoy yourself."

"I suppose."

"Well, maybe havin' fun might not be so much a part of it for all of us. But you don't gotta perform any kind of a role out here, y'know?"

"But we're always performing some sort of role, aren't we? What that role is and how much it's to our liking might change, but we're always something. A specific set piece in other people's worlds."

Slone laughed as he pulled the shirt he'd been wearing under his armour off. "I dunno. That's way too deep for me. All I reckon is we can all be good buddies out here, and I think that's nice."

"I suppose so." Danya's eyes caught on a savage scar that dug a deep trench through Slone's right shoulder. From the looks of things he had come very close to losing the arm.

"Bear," Slone said when he noticed where Danya was looking, then laughed and cast his voice lower. "Nah, guess I might as well tell you the truth on that one. It was a wyvern."

"They're real? What happened?"

"Realer than I woulda liked, that day." Slone twisted his arm so that he could look at the scar. "One of the fae led me to its lair when I was, mm... maybe fourteen, I'd guess. Weren't so much of a fair fight."

Danya's eyes went wide. "The fae lured you into danger?"

"Oh, nah. Well, I mean—" Slone tilted his head from side to side in consideration. "Technically yeah, but nah. Not like you're thinking. They ain't meat and blood things that can be hurt like we are. Folks think the fae are tricksters because they have a reputation of luring people into danger, but they ain't got no... uh... what's the word?"

"Guile?"

Slone clicked his fingers and pointed at Danya. "Yeah, that. They ain't sneaky or plotting. They just wanna warn folks about the danger. Sometimes that looks an awful lot like luring them into it, but it ain't the same. They just ain't like us."