Home > Hunted by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #3)(33)

Hunted by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #3)(33)
Author: Jasmine Walt

Fenris was one of the last to come up, and as he handed Annia a trencher, I heard him whisper “Good luck,” to her under his breath. A smile curved my lips – he knew what she was doing just as well as I did. To me, he added, “I’ve been put on maintenance crew, so I’ll have more mobility around the camp than you. I’ll tell you if I learn anything interesting, and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Will do,” I told him, and then he left.

Soon, the hall was empty except for Tall, Dark, and Handsome, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he watched us work – or rather Annia. I nearly rolled my eyes – his own were glued so firmly to her ass that I doubted he’d even noticed my expression.

“Showtime,” Annia muttered as she grabbed a bucket and a rag. Now that lunch was over, it was time for us to clean up after the men. I took up a broom and started sweeping the kitchen, but kept one eye on Annia as she approached the table nearest to the mess hall and set her bucket of water down. She dunked her rag into the water, then leaned across the table and wiped it down, giving the soldier a great view of her cleavage. The guy’s throat bobbed, and as his eyes brightened with lust I was sure there were things bobbing beneath his clothing too.

Annia chose that moment to straighten up and “accidentally” knock over the bucket of water. “Oh no!” she cried as liquid spilled all over the long-sleeved white shirt she wore. The wet fabric stuck to her like a second skin, becoming translucent. I had to choke back a laugh when the soldier’s eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of Annia’s nipples poking through the fabric. Men were so easy.

“A-are you alright?” the soldier asked, springing forward as his brain finally kicked into gear. “You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“N-no.” Annia shivered, pulling at her shirt. “I’m just cold and wet and oh, I hate this!” she wailed, actual tears gathering in her dark eyes. “I need to change my clothes now, but if I don’t get this done in time, Captain Milios said he was going to have me thrown in the dungeon!”

“There, there, now.” The soldier patted her arm, adopting the soothing and slightly patronizing tone men tended to use around hysterical women. “Captain Milios isn’t going to throw you into the dungeon just for spilling water on yourself.”

“That’s what one of the soldiers told me,” Annia sniffled. “And they’ve been here longer than I have.”

“Yeah, well some of the guys here can be asses.” The soldier shrugged off his khaki shirt and handed it to her, revealing an undershirt that clung to his muscular torso. I’d always assumed the Resistance was just a ragtag bunch, but the men I’d seen here were all in good fighting shape and uniformed. They weren’t perfect, but they were far more disciplined than I’d anticipated. “Here, wear this.”

“Thank you.” Annia sniffled one more time, then gave the soldier a brilliant smile that had him blushing all over again. That blush crept all the way down his neck and disappeared beneath the neckline of his undershirt as Annia pulled off her sopping-wet top, leaving her standing there in nothing but pants and a white bra.

“So, is there really a dungeon around here?” Annia asked as she slowly slipped the soldier’s shirt on, taking her time in adjusting the fabric around her shoulders, which were far too slim for the garment. “Or was that other soldier just making things up?”

“Not a dungeon, exactly,” the soldier said, his eyes glued to the rounded flesh swelling over the cups of Annia’s bra. “But we do use the old mineshaft to hold prisoners, and you could say that’s kind of like a dungeon.”

“Oh really?” Annia’s dark eyes widened, her mouth forming a small ‘o’ of shock. “So the soldier wasn’t lying, I could be sent there?” She slipped the bottom button of the shirt through its hole as she spoke.

“I’m sure the captain wouldn’t actually send you down there,” the soldier assured her. “He wouldn’t want you there with those vile mages.”

“Mages?” Annia gasped.

The soldier stood up a little straighter, looking chagrined. “I think I’ve said too much.”

“That’s incredible!” Annia pressed a fluttering hand against her exposed bosom, and I had to admire how cleverly she directed the soldier’s attention back to her body. “I had no idea this camp was so hardcore. I know the Resistance is fighting against the mages, but I didn’t know we’d grown so strong that we could actually capture some of them.”

The soldier’s chest seemed to swell with pride at that. “Yeah, well, we had a pretty good plan –”

The door swung open, and Sergeant Brun stepped in. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he saw Annia standing there with the soldier’s shirt only halfway buttoned. “Private Gilliam, what is the meaning of this!”

“Sir!” The private snapped to attention, his cheeks coloring once more, and I nearly snickered at the abject mortification in his pretty blue eyes. “I apologize, but the recruit here spilled water all over her shirt. I didn’t think it was appropriate for her to be in a wet t-shirt, so I offered her my shirt to wear.”

“And you think this is appropriate instead?” Sergeant Brun asked, swinging his baleful gaze toward Annia again. She’d hastily buttoned up her shirt and stood there with her hands behind her back and her head bowed, looking sheepish.

   
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