His stomach twisted. The hollowed-out feeling that had settled in his chest after their talk deepened, spreading through his ribs. The truce they’d forged felt gossamer-thin now. He could sense its fragility. One wrong word, one misstep, and it would tear. Part of him had dared to hope—fool that he was—that honesty might build something between them. But the wind stripped that delusion away.
The truth was that Lara tolerated his presence out of necessity, nothing more. The moment their task was complete, the moment she no longer needed him—
The certainty hit him like a physical blow: he was a dead man. She’d see him on his knees, and her hand wouldn’t tremble when she struck.
And beneath it all, woven through every other sensation, came the wind’s gleeful agreement.Aye! On your knees. Begging. Bleeding. She will have her revenge.
Alar’s gut clenched so hard he nearly doubled over. The stag beneath him seemed to sense his distress, its gait faltering slightly.
Ashes.He’d rather face a horde of iron-wielding Circines than this vicious wind.
He focused on Reedav then, in an attempt to distract himself. The stag’s stride was different from a horse’s, longer and more fluid. Powerful muscles moved beneath him. Surprisingly, it was easier than he’d thought to keep his seat. Reaching forward, Alar ran his hand down Reedav’s sleek neck. Envy stabbed at him then. How lucky the Shee were that they could touch minds with animals, and that creatures such as these willingly served them.
All his life, he’d denied the Shee part of himself.
As a bairn, he’d noted that animals were drawn to him. It was different from Skaal’s devotion to him—for the wolf in his blood called to her. Nonetheless, even skittish sheep approached him, his mother’s cat curled up with him every night in the furs, and stray dogs followed him when he ventured out to explore the surrounding woods
But his closeness with animal kind had embarrassed him. It made him different from the other lads. He’d turned his back on them, shunning contact so others wouldn’t notice. He needn’t have bothered though, for the locals had turned on him anyway. And along the way, he’d lost something precious.
It was one of the many things he now regretted.
Lara watched Ruari intently, wishing she could read thoughts.
She’d told the seer about her dream, and the changes to it, but he hadn’t yet answered her. Instead, he appeared deep in thought. Not long after they’d begun the day’s journey, she’d left Bree’s side and reined Bracken alongside Ruari. All the while, The Gaulas heckled her, yet she did her best to ignore it. They were lucky that it wasn’t as oppressive as the Heather Path, or none of them would have lasted this far.
“Well?” she pressed, finally losing patience.
Ruari pulled a face. “Fire in dreams can signify many things … but in your case, My Queen, it’s … complicated.”
Her breathing grew shallow. “Aye?”
“Well, apart from the fact you’re a fire-wielder, fire in dreams represents intense emotions … like rage … but also desire and love. Usually, it signifies that these feelings have been repressed.”
Heat washed over Lara. Unfortunately, unlike the night before, she couldn’t hide her embarrassment under the cloak of darkness. She cleared her throat. “Anything else?”
“Fire turns a vision inward. In the past, your dreams indicated that someone close to you held a dangerous secret.” Ruari met her gaze squarely then. “But this time …you’rethe one with the secret.”
Lara stilled. She was aware then that around her, the others of her party were all listening in on their conversation.
“I’m not,” she assured them, her voice catching. The Shee and Alar were riding around a furlong ahead. Fortunately, they wouldn’t overhear them, especially with the voices on the wind.
“Are you worried about something, My Queen?” Annis asked gently.
Lara cast the counselor a rueful look. “Besides our current situation?”
Annis held her gaze, steady and unflinching. “Perhaps you’re embarrassed to share your concerns.”
Lara shook her head, even as her belly clenched.
“Ruari could be right … you might be repressing it.”
Irritation spiked through Lara’s chest like a hot needle. But beneath it—worse than it—panic unfurled its wings. Shewashiding something. From them. From herself. The heat that had pooled low in her belly when she’d shaken Alar’s hand. The way her pulse had quickened despite her anger. Her body’s traitorous response to a man who’d destroyed everything. She could feel it now—that shameful wanting coiled in her gut like a serpent. Still hungry. Still aching. After everything he’d done.
Her fingernails dug crescents into her palms. What kind of woman burned for the man who’d betrayed her? What kind of fool let desire override reason, let her body sabotage every vow of vengeance she’d made?
Lara squeezed her eyes shut, as if darkness could keep the knowledge from taking root. But it was too late.
Curse Alar. And curse her too for seeking him out. She’d avoided him ever since, though she’d been unable to stop herself from watching when Mor gifted him that magnificent stag. The confusion on his face first. The wariness. Then—the Gods help her—the wonder that had rippled across his features. Something in her chest had warmed at the sight, an ember she’d thought long dead suddenly glowing.
