I am so fucked.

The early morning sunshine does nothing to take the edge off the chill in my mood. If Wren notices, I hope she thinks it is due to nerves. That the journey to the west, where uncertainty and likely our doom are awaiting us, is making me—the white tiger, the fiercest Shield in the country—nervous.

But I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous. I can’t afford to be. Fear is for fools and weaklings, not Shields—but I’d rather Wren think I’m nervous than guess the real reason behind my mood.

Anger is much more useful than fear.

My hands are starting to ache from clenching the reins, when what I really want to do is wrap them around Leo’s neck. King Leonidas III, royal pain in my ass. He thinks he’s so smart, sending Wren out with his handpicked entourage. The best in the realm to keep his beloved Night Mage safe, he claimed. She, of course, felt nothing but gratitude (and possibly affection) for him and his thoughtfulness. She missed the smug look on Leo’s face when I realized that two of my ex-lovers were joining our group—lovers that Wren is not even aware are a part of my history.

And now Wren, my fearsome, naive Wren, is riding along with them, oblivious. On her left side is Dimitra, one of the highest-ranking Shields at the School of the Silver Flame, outranked only by Commander Markos and a handful of others. On Wren’s other side rides Mariana, a powerful Water Mage, who thought I’d claim her at my last games in the arena. I’ve disappointed both of them, in more ways than one.

I swear Wren knows I am thinking about her. She turns, flipping her long braid over her shoulder, and gives me a warm smile that goes straight to my groin, before going back to making small talk and laughing with the other women. What are they talking about?

At my side ride Caelus and Rafael. Caelus attempts to read as we go—I’ve never known a Shield to be so invested in books. I almost pity his horse for having to carry them all. Rafael tries to engage me in conversation, to relive our past adventures and to find out more about the enigmatic Night Mage he’s been entrusted to guard. I ignore him, and after a while he finally shuts up—and then the bastard starts whistling. I’d gotten used to Wren’s quiet companionship – Rafael is already grating on my nerves.

I watch Wren sway in her saddle, reaching out to let a passing bird land on her finger for a moment. She strokes its breast, whispering something softly to it that I can’t hear. I’m immediately jealous of the attention it’s getting. The bird answers her by fluffing its little brown feathers and offering a snippet of song before flying off. She watches it wistfully as it disappears into the grasses. She has not yet come to terms with the power she wields over animals, the influence she has over the elements, given to her by the god of night himself.

On top of that, I’ve gone and kissed her. Thoroughly, and at every possible opportunity. While I’m positive she reciprocates my feelings, she is as unexperienced with them as she is with her powers. The last thing I need is for Dimitra or Mariana to say something—anything—about our past and ruin whatever chance I have. I want Wren—I want her like I’ve never wanted any woman before.

Gods.

How am I supposed to defend this woman as we march toward a den of monsters if I can’t keep my focus off getting into her pants a mere handful of miles into this journey?

The odds are not in my favor.