As I keep my senses open for spirits, and my eyes open for potential points of shelter, Evander and I make hours of conversation. He tells me more of the ways of the lykin. How, in the primordial forest of Den, there is a Grove where the lykin can speak with the great wolf spirit—one of the few spirits they can commune with. I tell him of how my grandmother taught me, as a girl and as a woman, to identify the magic in everything—traces of spirits—and how to use that combined with the power within me to perform small blessings and feats of magic.
I ask him about how the lykin’s magic works, how it feels to be a wolf, how they determine their hierarchy and what the markings on the sides of tents mean—different packs, as I’d begun to surmise.
He asks me about the most mundane things in reply. What I ate from day to day. How I occupied my time. How long it had been since my grandmother passed the Veil to the Great Beyond.
The day passes effortlessly.
“We should probably bed down for the night.” Evander stares up at the stars winking through the canopy. The moon is nearly full and offers a great amount of light, even filtered through the tangled boughs above.
“Evander…” I stare up at the moon as well, at what it means beyond merely light for us to see by.
“Yes?”
“When I free Aurora”—not if, when—“what will happen to the lykin?” I know Conri has claimed it would be the end for them. But I don’t trust him to be entirely forthright.
“It’s impossible to know,” he says softly. “Perhaps we will go back to as we were before Bewulf the Uniter swooned her and we will no longer be able to transform at will, but only when the moon is full. Perhaps she has been one with our kind for so long that her magic is as much in our blood as the old wolf spirit’s is, and we will remain as we are. Perhaps, somehow, even after all we have done to her, she’ll take pity upon us and give us that boon, however undeserving we might be of it.”
I continue to stare up at the sky. My insides knot. I’m heavy with the weight of all he’s told me. Of his people and their ways and history. A history that, one way or another, I will be forever entrenched in. I doubt I will be known as anything more than a villain.
“Faelyn.” Evander places a hand on my shoulder, grounding me back in the present. My eyes are drawn to him. He’s cast in moonlight. A silhouette outlined in silver and shadow. Both suit him, the light and the dark. “The lykin will survive. No matter what. We’re a tough people. Born of the moon and of the wolf. Both will always be a part of us, one way or another. So do what is right. Aurora is a stain on our legacy as she is now. That is why I tried to free her, and continue to do so. This chapter is a disgrace in our history books. If you can liberate her…then it must be done.”
I nod.If only Conri wasn’t the wolf king and you were, I want to say. But I can’t bring myself to. Evander has been through enough. The hardships of ruling shouldn’t be yet another weight upon his shoulders.
“I won’t falter,” I vow to him, and to the moon above.
“Good.” Evander steps away and begins to set up the tent.
“It’s a lovely night; I don’t think that’s necessary,” I say. The air here isn’t too hot or cold, despite it being summer. There’s a nice breeze, but not too rigorous.
“Are you sure?”
“Just the bedroll is fine,” I insist.
He rolls out two bedrolls a modest amount apart. I fold my arms as he finishes and give him a dull look when he turns in my direction. His brow furrows. I can’t stop a grin.
“What?” Evander asks.
“You’re really putting them like that? After last night?”
“I…didn’t want to assume.” The moonlight mostly hides what I dare think is a blush. “I wasn’t sure if last night was a moment or…”
I kneel on the earth next to him, sitting back onto my ankles, so I can look him in the eyes. “Do you want it to just be a moment?”
“Old gods, no,” he breathes like a desperate prayer.
He wants me. Still. Even now. I can feel it as much as I can see it in his eyes. In the twitch of his hands as he refrains from touching me. It swells like a rush of too much sugar, surging through me. It takes my head like too much mead. Before I know it, my hands are on his cheeks, my mouth is on his. His hands are on my rear. I’m maneuvered into his lap, straddling him.
“Have me again,” I whisper against his mouth, raking my fingers through his silken tresses. “Not because of Conri’s charm. Or because of unfulfilled urges. Have me because youwant me and I want you. Because you feel this draw as much as I do.”
As I talk, his hands slide up my back. They spread across my shoulder blades. One slips up to grab my hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back, as it makes a fist.
Evander draws a quivering breath against the soft skin of my neck. “I could have you a thousand times, and only want you a thousand more.”
“I welcome the challenge,” I breathe.
With a growl, he takes my skin between his teeth. His hips rock against mine. My nails dig into his shoulders as he grabs at my shirt.
The moment our flesh meets again, the world is right. The second of pain when he fills me, followed by the bliss of my body accepting him, is enough to make my mind go blank. My arms around his shoulders. His body atop mine.
