“You’re going to have to admit to killing him,” Evander says plainly.
“Have you lost all your better senses?” I stop in my tracks, too stunned for a moment to continue.
“You’re going to have to trust me.” Evander stops as well and takes my hand.
“Obviously I do.” I force myself to keep going. Even though we’re not sprinting, we need to keep making progress toward Den if we want to make it back without Conri suspecting anything more than he already will. “What I don’t trust is that madman who clearly has been murdering innocent people and retaining power at all costs.”
“Nor should you trust him, outright. But there is one thing about Conri that we can trust.”
“And what is that?”
“That he is going to always be looking out for himself. You’re right, he’ll retain power at all costs, and we need to make sure he sees Bardulf’s death as a price of that.” Evander shifts his grip on me, fingers lacing against mine.
“Because that doesn’t sound risky at all,” I mutter under my breath.
“Oh, it’ll be very risky.”
I stop without warning and yank him toward me. Evander lets out a noise of surprise before our lips meet. With my free hand I grab his hip, pulling him closer, feeling the hard length of him against me. My fingers slip over the curve of his rear, giving it a firm squeeze. Another noise of surprise that drops into the back of his throat and becomes almost like a growl as I pull away.
“What was that for?” he asks, as lazily as the smile that slips across his lips.
“Because I could—because I won’t be able to soon.”
The smile falls. His expression becomes gravely serious. “No matter what happens, know that I love you.”
“So long as you don’t forget the same.” I search his gaze, trying to find any trace of doubt. There’s worry. Fear. But not doubt. I am reassured by its absence.
“I will find a way, again, to come to you. We figured it out before. We will again.” His conviction is more worrying than reassuring. Before, Evander was a relief, amusement, mild interest that could be something more, but I wasn’t too bothered by the idea of it evolving or not.
Now he’s everything.
“Let’s just keep focused on staying safe and escaping. Once we succeed, we’ll have the rest of our lives to enjoy being together.” I force a reassuring smile, for myself as much as him.
Evander returns it and releases my hand as we begin walking together again. “Now, here’s what will happen when we arrive at Den, and what you’re going to need to do…”
We spenda little less than half an hour walking and going over all the plans. I practice lines and commit them to memory. Then, he returns to his lykin form to make up the time. For that last half hour as we’re racing through the rolling grasslands, my mind is as blank as the fog that is perpetually settled on the land of the lykin. The farther northwest we go, the thicker the haze gets, to the point that I must believe Evander is navigating on memory, magic, and lykin senses, because I can’t see much beyond my hand in front of my face.
He warned me that the fog grew thicker the farther north one went in the plains. But I wasn’t expecting it to be this severe. We could be about to topple over a cliff and into the sea and I would not know until we were in free fall.
So it’s all the more striking when, out of nowhere, the fog parts like a breath. A sharp inhale where the claustrophobia of the thick clouds is lifted and a column of sunlight warms my shoulders from the damp chill of the ride. Even in sunlight, my teeth are nearly chattering. We’re far enough north that the day can’t sweep away the cold that sank into the earth in the night.
A forest has fossilized in the dip of a valley. Large, stony trees, each the size of the mighty redwood I grew up revering, shelter the ancestral home of the lykin with boughs of glistening silver leaves. Reaching out, I press my palm into the bark of a tree as we pass. It’s as smooth as a polished river rock, as cool as crystal. Though it looks and feels like a sculpture, it hums underneath my hand like a real, living tree would. They breathe in sunlight and the crisp, cool air and exhale life.
Underneath their dappled shade is what could, loosely, be described as a town. The majority of the structures are tents, only a few permanent collective homes and buildings. I recognize some of the tents as what I saw when we were out on the plains. Stunning feats of cord and tarp—manor houses, practically, made entirely from canvas and tension.
What structures are permanent are mismatched, added onto, and clearly constructed by different hands over different times. Stone buildings lined with moss, crumbling on one side, have new additions made of wood so fresh that it still smells of sap. Some buildings are more like halls that snake around the trees, room after room added on.
Every structure has lykin occupying it. They emerge from doorways and tent flaps. Halt their fire tending and sparring. I feel as though it is the first time I have arrived at the lykin all over again. The surreal sense of repetition grows as Conri races over to meet us.
Evander slows his pace, stopping before Conri reaches us. Evander sinks to the ground so I can dismount, then standsas a man. I adjust my cape around me and immediately begin walking, leaving Evander behind, as if I am all too relieved to see Conri. The wolf king changes into his human form and runs the rest of the way to me on two feet, throwing out his arms as if he is genuinely worried. Genuinely fearful for my well-being.
“Words cannot express how relieved I am to see you.” He crushes me against him so tightly that I’m forced to exhale. It’s like he’s trying to absorb me into him. I’m sure if he could squeeze out Aurora’s magic, he’d press me until my ribs cracked and eyes popped.
Still, I have a role to play. “My darling king, I missed you immeasurably.” My words are almost shrill, as though I am fighting back tears. Luckily, I’ve had enough practice fighting back actual tears recently that I know how to adjust the tenor of my voice to make it convincing.
“What happened to Bardulf?” He releases me to look me in the eyes. Searching for a lie, no doubt.
In my periphery, I can see Aurora’s shape. She’s too hazy to make out her expression. But she’s here.Good. I steel myself for what’s to come next.
