The Heartbreak Show (Bound By Ravens #3)

15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Cian Merrick

The sun had yet to set behind Caledona Wood. Still, a faint blush of stars streaked the pink and lavender sky.

I tipped yet another sacrificed bottle of whiskey against my lips.

Nothing beat a Caravan winter around a communal fire with friends and family. Might be our last season without work, too. No longer did we need to rest our wagon wheels during the harsher traveling months. Still, to lose this? A right tragedy.

If Rhylen decided to buck this tradition, I would swoon from fatigue in the most dramatic fashion possible—when he looked at me, walked past me, just thought of me. A hundred times if that’s what it took for him to get the message.

This lass needed her winter beauty rest.

I studied the fellas beneath lowered lashes. Only Sean had shown signs of elder magic. Still ol’ Rhylee Lo considered us each elders. Filena, Glenna, and Braelin too, which ruffled a few feathers. In Caravan history, not one born female had become an elder or chieftess.

A yawn slipped past my lips and Owen side-eyed me with a tipsy smirk.

Glenna and I decided to postpone our final Heartbreak Show by one night—the last one tied to our bet, that is. The show would continue as long as our tribe needed the revenue. But we hadn’t slept much.

Feck, I could drink in her body endlessly. The electric feel of her silky skin beneath my fingers still haunted me hours later.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to feeling truly seen for the first time. To have someone I loved more than my own breath know all the hidden, strange, scared pieces myself, and then choose me as their life partner was life changing.

My gaze tracked Glenna’s flurried movements across the fire.

She added seasonings to the wild apple oatmeal she stirred while Mam, on her other side, popped freshly baked berry muffins from their tins.

Glenna’s black-as-night eyes flit to mine. A tiny smile curved her gorgeous lips right before she mouthed, “Preening slag.”

I snorted and mouthed back, “Loaf trot.”

Owen slowly moved into my line of sight from the log he sat on. “He either has an unnatural appetite for porridge—”

“Strong enough to make the oats blush,” Corbin interjected.

“Aye, the pot too,” Sean added.

“Or,” Owen dragged out, “the mortal is elf struck.”

“With your ugly mug,” I quipped back.

“That’s not what you said when you asked me to marry you.” Owen snapped my suspenders with a drunken grin.

The ever-present calculating intensity of Kalen’s bright blue stare narrowed onto Owen for a moment before Finn nudged his arm with a separate bottle of whiskey.

“For feck’s sake.” Corbin rolled his eyes. “Time to get over each other.”

I slipped a thumb beneath my suspenders. “Not when his vanilla feathered arse fantasizes about whipping me, I can’t.”

The fellas burst into laughter.

“To Owen’s vanilla feathered arse,” Sean toasted.

Kalen, Sean, and I lifted our whiskeys, then took a long drink before passing the bottles to the other three fellas.

Rhylen brisked past us toward the outdoor kitchen, not sparing us a single glance. The lad had been overseeing wagon repair inspections and supply audits with two different crews he had assigned last night.

“Lottie?” he called out.

A former felly dipped her head and waited for Rhylen’s approach. “Aye, sire?”

“None of the old ways,” he reminded with a smile. She peered up and visibly swallowed. “Do the ill need meals tonight?”

“Already delivered, sire. Miss Lonan prepped their food first.”

“Do they need anything else?” Rhylen gestured his head toward Glenna and Gran. “Tinctures? Teas?”

Lottie blinked again. “No, sire. The Carrick’s and Heffern’s mortals are on the mend now.”

“Wonderful to hear those free mortals are recovering.”

He bowed his head at the Raven lass, who didn’t know how to take a gov acknowledging her so equally. Never mind that she and Rhylen were the same class until a couple of weeks ago. Or that the idea of govs didn’t exist in the same way as before. When she walked away, my brother’s smile wobbled a little, but he straightened his shoulders and peered around camp.

Sean started to gesture for Rhylen to join us, but our chieftain moved onto the next task while us eejits sat and drank. In our defense, he refused to let us help with anything tonight. Others in the tribe did need to step up and take ownership of various jobs.

Finished with meal prep, the girls, Gran, and Mam eased into our circle while other families began dishing up. Glenna hip bumped me to scoot over. I nearly grabbed her to sit on my lap. My body wouldn’t behave, if she did, though. Already I was craving another night with her, this time beneath the stars and whispers of trees.

“Your mate,” Gran said to Finn as Mam helped her into a rocking chair.

“Taryn.”

“Yer Taryn,” she continued with a soft, appreciative pat on Mam’s hand, “she doesn’t travel with ye, Finn lad?”

“She’s a green witch apprentice.” Glenna perked up and leaned forward. “Taryn began only a few days ago.”

“Who’s training her?” Filena asked next.

A corner of Finn’s mouth inched up. “Trade secret, love.”

“Can your mate bargain?” Glenna asked.

Finn’s head tilted. “Ingredients or—”

“Aye, I need a few rare items.”

“For?” he asked.

Glenna flashed him a smirk. “Trade secret, love.”

Gran chortled a breathy laugh.

“Never introduce them, mate,” Kalen warned Finn with a canined grin. The green-haired arse twirled a leaf between his fingers while sizing up Glenna. “Taryn has daggers in her eyes but this one”—Kalen gestured to Glenna with the bottle—"will carve you alive with her smile.”

At that, the bladed sass slanting the curl of Glenna’s lips sharpened.

Kalen wasn’t wrong. Glenna’s crowing grins always cut me up into a thousand sighing, panting pieces.

“Put them together?” Kalen shook his head at Finn. “You’ll not survive to see the next changing of the leaves, mate.”

“Taryn is a wee murderous, aye,” Finn said with a delighted shrug.

“Wee?” Kalen repeated with a laugh. “The Black Beak burned down Stellar Winds Casino in vengeance then practically carried your cursed, dying arse from the wreckage.”

Glenna turned to Filena and Braelin. “I adore her.”

Braelin’s rosy complexion went bloodless. “Vengeance against Ren Cormac?”

Finn nodded, but the movement was guarded.

Owen’s eyes shot to Sean’s in warning. The lad’s fingers were digging into the log he sat on to keep from reacting to his mate’s distress.

Primal males were adorable.

But merciful suns, I’d sacrifice George’s fashion services for a week to hear Gent of Fem possessively growl at me.

George peered up from his continual thief-struck gaping place at Finn’s feet to chitter-gasp at me.

Fine . . . three days.

Satisfied, George returned to his moony-eyed vigil.

Braelin tucked a strand of hair behind the point of her ear. “Does she seek vengeance against all of Clan Cormac?”

“From North Tribe?” Kalen asked.

When Braelin didn’t answer, Finn and Kalen both sat up straighter.

“Shite,” Kalen whispered. “I thought you had a North Tribe accent.”

“Not the whole clan, no,” Finn quickly reassured her. “Ren cost Taryn nearly everything.”

“Only Ren?” she asked.

“Aye,” Finn answered softly. “Only that Cormac. Is he your—”

“Second cousin.” Braelin squeezed Sean’s hand to relax. “Did you know Bale Cormac?”

Bale—her older brother and Ren’s righthand on Seren.

Finn and Kalen peered at each other and then shook their heads.

Her shoulders relaxed. “Branwen Cormac?”

Her brother’s daughter, who was Filena’s age.

“The Thieves’ Guilds didn’t operate in the casinos and nightclubs,” Finn explained. “We lived on the streets. Slept in old warehouses, we did. Nicked jewels and coin for a stale loaf of bread and moth-eaten blanket.” He tossed the leaf he had been fidgeting with into the fire. “There’s a kettle pot of fae races on that fecking floating debtor’s prison and Raven Folk are the minority.”

“Were,” Kalen corrected.

“Aye, were.”

“Caravan Ravens,” Corbin interjected, the most sober of us lads, “are under a bargain to never reveal the Carrion Crime Syndicate’s role on Seren to slaves and indentures. The blinding curse can make them appear as other Folk.” Both Finn’s and Kalen’s eye flew wide. “But the Cormacs”—his gaze slid to Braelin—"had governed the City of Stars for fifty years.”

Owen pointed at Finn. “Until you set Ravenna Blackwing and her court free.”

“All the work of me wee feisty wife again,” he said with a crooked smile. “Terrifying lass.”

“I want to adopt her,” Glenna practically chirped. To Filena and Braelin, she added, “We need another witchy sister, aye?”

I stretched out my legs. “What did you do the whole time, then?”

“Pissed her off,” Kalen slurred.

“Drove her mad with lust.” The rascally tilt to Finn’s grin turned smug, “She couldn’t leave my side.” Kalen snorted. "Married me twice, she did.”

“Twice?” The furrow between Corbin’s brows deepened. “How is that possible?”

Finn winked. “I’m too irresistible to mate bond with only once. The magic agreed.”

“Gods,” Glenna groaned, “no wonder she burned a whole building to the ground.”

Kalen barked a loud laugh.

“So,” Finn humorously tossed out, “you want to bargain?”

“With. Taryn,” Glenna punctuated. “Not with your riddling ways, Finnan ó Brannon.”

“I’m here and she’s not.”

Glenna considered him a long moment then stood. “Come along, then.”

Finn hopped off the log and gestured with his head for Glenna to lead the way. I began reaching for the bottle from Owen when Glenna swooped in and grabbed my hand and yanked.

“You, too, eejit.”

“Ask nicely,” I drawled. To sweeten the deal, I shook fallen locks of hair from my bleary eyes. The sloshing world tilted for a second. Glenna’s brow arched. But I could see through her act. Preening my hair was catnip to that sassy hen. “Begging works bes—”

Her free hand whipped out and flicked my forehead.

“Ow!” I hissed. It didn’t really hurt, but I lived for those crowing grins. Like the one she was giving me now.

“I can ask more nicely if that wasn’t pleasing enough to you, darlin’.”

Finn twisted to Kalen and the water spirit dipped his head in a I-told-you-so look.

Glenna yanked me to a stand and began marching off toward the trees. “Hurry up, Finn Brannon,” she called out. “Or no bargain.”

And the lad listened, like the bargain-addicted fae he was.

I started to laugh under my breath.

Glennie Lo really did have all us males trained on treats.