A grin tugs at Valric’s lips as he addresses the wolves directly. “Nymeria, Anika,” his voice carries over the whistling wind, “you two want to show us the way?”
Nymeria’s ears prick up, and she looks to her sister as if exchanging a wordless agreement. Then, with a sharp bark, she bounds forward, her paws silent against the snow as she takes the lead.
‘We are being watched.’Anika’s ears perk up as she scans the darkness beyond our shelter.
I stare into the flames but show no outward emotion to her words.
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’
My eyes flicker to the darkness beyond the flames and I let my magic rise the way I did that time when I wanted to find Zaria.
‘They aren’t a threat.’Nymeria yawns, laying her head down on her paws.
‘How do you know?’
Anika tilts her head, looking at me curiously.‘They have been watching us since we entered the valley leading up to the mountains.’
My breath catches. ‘Why didn’t you say something sooner?’
‘We were scouting.’
I huff out a breath and shake my head at her simple explanation.‘Isn’t that the point?’
“Is everything alright over there?” Raiden’s voice rumbles softly, his gaze flicking toward me with a hint of concern from where he’s seated, leaning back against the stone wall.
“Everything is fine,” I reply, offering a small, reassuring smile. He gives me a skeptical look. His shoulders relax slightly, but he’s watching me closely, reading my expressions.
Everyone needs rest, especially Kian and Raiden. If I mention that we are being watched, no one will get any sleep. Zaria is already curled up by the fire next to Raiden, her small frame snug against his side, her breaths soft and steady. Across from them, Tristan lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling as if he were counting every mark in the stone. Then there’s Kian, lying off to the side, face half-buried in his cloak, though I know he isn’t sleeping either.
Kian’s injuries have been healing so slowly, and it worries me. Even after all this time, he is still struggling, occasionally wincing. Tristan healed remarkably quickly after the ambush on the road to the Evergreens, but Kian is different. I remember Zaria telling me that the high fae possess magic, and the strength of that magic reflects in the shade of purple in their eyes. Tristan has the deeper purple, whereas Kian’s are the softest lavender. But the fact he’s still hurting. It tugs at me in ways I can’t ignore.
I bite my lip, worry creeping in.
Just then, Valric comes in, stamping his feet to shake off the fresh layer of snow dusting his cloak. He gives each of us a long look, his gaze lingering on Kian, then on me.
“We should all get some rest,” he suggests quietly, brushing the snow from his shoulders. “I’ll take the first watch, followed by Nero.”
I nod, though the urge to volunteer burns on my tongue. I know none of them will agree to have me on watch. I peer over at Nero. His golden eyes, reflecting the firelight, look distant, asthough his mind is somewhere far away. I can’t help but wonder if he regrets tagging along with us.
Sensing my gaze, Nero raises his eyes from the fire and stares directly at me. His eyes are curious, as if he’s trying to read me. The intensity of his stare makes me feel oddly exposed, though neither of us says a word.
After a moment, Nero gives a slight nod, the barest dip of his head, before leaning back on the hard ground. To my surprise, he doesn’t bother with a blanket, shirt, or bedroll. He simply lies there, bare-chested, the cold seemingly no match for him. The firelight dances over the black tattoos that cover his entire body, and I can just make out faint scars that crisscross over his skin, hinting at battles fought long before our paths crossed.
I watch him for a moment longer, wondering what thoughts lie hidden behind those golden eyes.
Chapter fifty-nine
Maxon
I’m being led by a fucking leash through the tunnels once again. I can sense Yumekui’s delight at having me at her mercy, at treating me like her fucking pet. Everly told me she has a plan to get me out of here. The spark in her green eyes was enough to make me believe in it. But she didn’t tell me what that plan was, and for good reason. If they were somehow able to infiltrate my mind—to pull secrets from me—I don’t want her to know Everly’s plan. Not even a hint.
It occurs to me that when I emerged from my vision with Everly, her blood served as an antidote. It acted as a cleansing force, dispelling the sinister, almost sentient blood magic. Although I was completely clear-headed when Yumekui arrived, I pretended to be dazed and obedient, wearing a temporary mask.
My boot catches on a jagged rock, and I stumble forward, the leash jerking me so hard that the wyvern bones digging into my wrists and neck pull tight, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my nerves.
My hands clench, itching to reach up and tear this leash off, but I know better than to resist. Not now. Not here.
