Cameron and Seamus trailed behind them, both still on horseback, leaving Thom to bring up the rear, leading his mount and J.T.’s back home again. He cast another glance toward the patch of blood in the snow and grimaced.
What the hell happened while we were gone?
A shiver wracked him and he tore his gaze away, starting to walk again. That particular mystery would be solved soon enough.
Instead of heading into the tent, though, Thom found himself heading toward the half-timber, half canvas stables, still leading the two horses, half lost in thought. He was on autopilot and barely realized what he was doing until he was halfway through untacking J.T.’s horse when he heard Marin’s voice.
“Are you okay?”
Thom sucked in a ragged breath, fingers tightening around the edges of J.T.’s saddle. “Are you?”
She came over to him, pale-faced but otherwise just the same as she’d been when he left. His throat tightened and he dropped the saddle, wrapping her up in his arms and squeezing her tight against his chest. The rent muscles in his back protested, but he ignored them as he buried his face in his wife’s hair.
“I missed you,” he murmured. “I’m not doing that again. Someone else can go. It won’t be me.”
Marin choked on a laugh. “We both know that’s not true.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close.
Thom swore as the touch set his back on fire.
She let go immediately, blinking, brow creasing in concern. “Thom, what happened?”
“We got jumped by something,” he said, voice tight as he tried to master the sudden agony. “Seamus called them shadowspawn. I—I hadn’t seen anything like them before, Mar, but I don’t think they followed us.”
“Are you—”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, perhaps a shade too quickly. His wife squeezed her eyes shut.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
She took him by the hand and led him out of the stable.
