They rode out together, the forest parting before them like it knew better than to stand in the way. These were Jakobav’s most trusted circle of guards, maybe even friends, if that was possible for Dravaryns, and she was riding straight into their fold.
Even as they rode, she couldn’t escape her thoughts about the artifact buried within the castle—and the mission that had brought her here. But when the trees opened and the wind cut across her cheeks, Jakobav leading this circle felt inevitable, like the realm itself aligning.
Something deep inside her insisted:this is the path I'm meant to take.
18
BREATH OF THE VEIL
They rode hard, the forest blurring around them.
Ella had studied the Dravaryns for years: their speech, their cities, their customs. But now the land felt different, breathing, as though it were revealing itself to her at last.
Golden light filtered through the trees, catching on moss and shards of frost. Jagged cliffs jutted skyward, streaked with veins of obsidian pulsing with buried magic. Wild black roses tangled through the underbrush, smaller and rougher than those in the castle garden, beautiful in their resilience.
The trees whispered as they passed, not with menace but with a secretive hush, the forest keeping watch. Ella kept her hood drawn low, her silence tighter still, though her thoughts refused to quiet. Jakobav’s glances settled against her like a thought he meant her to feel, while Maeren watched with the patience of someone waiting for a crack to appear.
Behind them, Savina rode with a deadly poise that made Ella question whether she was brave or simply reckless. Jakobav never once turned to acknowledge her, and that made Ella wonder about their history, because soldiers this loyal didn’t simply appear. Savina carried a dangerous sort of beauty,shaped by training and honed by a lifetime of expectation. Whatever bound them was deep, even if it wasn’t romantic.
Did any of them suspect who she truly was? What had Jake told them to explain why she was here? Were they blindly loyal to their commander, or did they carry secrets of their own, concealed as carefully as hers?
“Fuck,” she muttered, realizing to her horror that she’d called him Jake even in her mind. The name felt too intimate, the kind spoken only by someone he let close. Forcing her attention back to the terrain, she traced every tree and bend in the path, memorizing the route in case she ever needed to escape alone.
They made camp just after dusk, near a crumbling ridge where the wind picked up, cold and biting, carrying the promise of a brutal frost. Everyone else had gone to scout, leaving her alone with Jakobav in the clearing. The fire cracked quietly between them, casting broken shadows across his face.
“Well?” Ella asked, crossing her arms. “Aren’t you going to set the wards?”
Jakobav glanced up and let out a low laugh, dark and unsettling.
Her brows snapped together. “What’s so funny?”
“You expect me to mutter a few words and conjure a barrier?” His mouth curved faintly. “You think Dravaryn blood works like that?”
Her eyes narrowed, defensiveness flaring. “It’s not just me. The whole realm knows the rumors. Dravaryn royalty is supposed to raise protective barriers in their sleep.”
“Sorry to disappoint you and your rumors,” Jakobav said smoothly, “but neither I nor anyone in my family has that ability.”
Ella frowned. “But how? The wards around your castle are strong. I felt them.”
For the first time, his composure cracked. His eyes widened, shock flashing raw across his face, and he studied her as though she had just spoken something impossible. With what seemed to be deliberate effort, the mask slid back into place.
“The wards around the castle were there long before us,” he said evenly, “and they’ll be there long after.”
Then what had she felt? If not Dravaryn magic…then whose?
Irritation burned in her chest—she hated being wrong. She leaned forward, her words aimed to wound. “Unless Threadshifting spreads and the Veil shatters. Then your ancient wards would crumble, and your family would fall along with them.”
The fire popped, sparks spinning into the dark.
Jakobav’s smirk vanished, gaze fixed on her, taking one step closer, then another, until his shadow swallowed her. Then, in one sudden motion, he dropped down and planted a hand on the log beside her knee, the other on the far side, caging her in. He leaned close, his grip tightening until the bark cracked beneath his palms. His jaw was set tight, the ruthless determination in his eyes promising her words had struck deep.
Ella’s heartbeat spiked, and she cursed herself for it, not from fear, but because part of her thrilled at the danger.
She’d wanted to unsettle him.
She hadn’t anticipated how the strike would rebound.
His hand flexed against the cracked wood like he might touch her. Her body leaned forward before her mind could stop it, then jerked back as if remembering who she was provoking. “You overstepped, and now you’re hesitating,” he said, his voice low and unforgiving.
