“I know–”
“If I was as stupid and naive as you say, I’d have walked into the woods with my arms wide open. I haven’t because I know Maxon would be furious, because he knows and trusts that I can see the bigger picture. I’m not stupid. If I give in and give myself over, that’s it. You will all die or be under the rule of that monster.” My breathing is ragged, as the words spill from me.
“We have a plan. The Witte Wieven told me what needs to be done. I will fight, I will not just give in. You may think my human emotions are a weakness, but they’re not!”
Fenris steps forward, his hands raised. “Okay. If it’s any consolation, you’ve always been emotional.” His lips quirk up. “Always had a big heart.” His eyes drop to my wolves. “You’d never let anyone suffer, especially if there’s something you could do about it. Forgive us for thinking that you’d do something foolish to save your mate.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat and drop my gaze to Nymeria and Anika. “I would do anything for him, but releasing the Shadoweaver has never crossed my mind,” I admit.
The doors open, and Alivar and Valric stride in, looking around the group.
“What did we miss?” Alivar asks with that easy smirk on his face.
I sit down, suddenly feeling exhausted.
Raiden fills Alivar in, his voice steady as he outlines the plan to find the Skythari Nomads. He spares no detail, explaining each step with the precision he’s known for. Alivar listens carefully, his face impassive, but I can feel his gaze resting on me the entire time. I keep my own eyes lowered, fingers tracing patterns over the map in front of me, feeling the faint lines of rivers and mountains beneath my touch. I’m careful not to look up; too aware of how everyone’s attention seems to land on me.
When Raiden finishes, Alivar finally speaks. “Okay. If that is the plan, then I will hold up my end.”
A relieved smile slips across my face, and I incline my head in thanks. “If that’s all sorted, then I’m going to get ready to leave.”
Raiden dips his head slightly. “Yes, we’ll meet at your chambers at midnight.”
I step around the table, heading for the doors with the wolves on my heels. Now with the plan in motion, my sense of frustration at the lack of action eases. Before I make it two steps, the large oak doors bang open, with Zaria, wide-eyed and breathless, stumbling into the room.
“What happened?” I demand, already moving toward her. A jolt runs through me at the fear in her eyes. I catch the tremble in her hands as she reaches out, and a glistening of tears teeters on the edge of her lashes.
“It’s Nix,” she chokes out, thin and strained.
My blood turns to ice, and I fight the instinctive dread clawing at me. “What about Nix?”
Zaria’s hands grip my arm, her gaze dropping to the floor as she shakes her head. Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “Nix . . . she was poisoned.”
The room falls silent, and the weight of her words slams into me like a physical blow.
Chapter forty-nine
Everly
“There’s a flower that grows at the base of the ghost trees,” Zaria explains in a hushed voice. “It’s golden, and its petals will absorb into the skin, clearing the poison from the bloodstream.”
“Where?” I demand, my pacing relentless as my gaze flickers to Nix, lying unconscious on the bed. Anger punches through me every time I look at her pale face, her wings limp and lifeless against the silken pillow. Zaria moved her into my chambers, where the wards will protect her, but it feels like a hollow measure if I can’t save her.
Zaria hesitates before whispering, “The Outlands.”
I stop in my tracks, my eyes narrowing as I take in the look on her face. “Where the Shadoweaver is?”
“Yes,” she admits softly, and I see her wince, as though saying it out loud makes the situation even worse.
I can feel the blood slowly draining from my face. “How the hell are we supposed to get that?”
“I don’t know,” she sighs.
“Who would have poisoned her?” I snap, my voice rising despite myself. My hands clench at my sides, the helplessness swirling within me making my magic ebb and flow faintly in the air.
“Maybe she found something, and someone had to keep her quiet.” Zaria’s tail sways behind her, the only sign of her own agitation. She steps closer. “Someone in the village might have some. I can leave right away,” she offers, gripping my hands firmly in hers.
Asrai peers down at me from her perch in Zaria’s thick, dark waves. The worry in her small, luminous mismatched eyes breaks my heart.
