Aidon clocked the mercenary’s gaze as it darted to Will before resettling on Liam.Interesting.
“There’s a desert farmer a few miles from here who owes me quite a large favor. He can give your Athatis shelter. They’ll be safe with him. As will your identities. I’d have sent you there for hiding, but I need proximity to the city to assemble the team, and something tells me I shouldn’t let you out of my sight for too long.” She smirked before nodding toward the window. “You’ll need to leave now, though. And I suggest spending the night. I’ll send a missive along with you so he knows I sent you.”
Liam let out a dry laugh. “You have lost your mind if you think I’m walking into a trap like that so easily.”
Dauphine sighed. “It’s not a trap. But believe what you want. What do I care if your wolf lives?”
“I’ll go with you,” Will offered, exhaustion bleeding into his voice. “You’ll need someone to watch your back, and the exchange will be safer if there’s two of us.”
“Absolutely not,” Aidon argued. “You’re a wanted man. I’ll go with him.”
“You need to stay here,” Will replied with a pointed look to Dauphine. “As you said, it’s my name on Nyra’s bounty,not yours.”
Aidon could hear Will’s meaning in the undertone of his words: If this was in fact a trap, it might very well be laid here and not at the farm. Which meant if the guards did come, it would be better for them to find Aidon than Will, even with the rumors of his power circulating. They would not kill a foreign monarch. Not immediately, anyway.
The same could not be said for Will.
“What will it be, Fire King?” Dauphine asked from where she perched on the arm of the couch. “Will you keep me warm tonight?”
Aidon loved a gamble as much as the next person, but these stakes…they were getting too high.
But he heaved a sigh, his shoulders falling as he turned back to Will. “If I kill her, you only have yourself to blame.”
18
The next time Aya saw the sun, it wasn’t the harsh light she’d grown used to in the cell with the iron table. It was soft and gentle against her face, a warm caress that she could feel dancing across the crown of her head.
She cringed away from it regardless, her body bracing for the pain she knew was coming.
Except…
There were no chains.
No table.
No cell.
A gentle breeze blew across her cheeks, and it took Aya a moment to realize she was standing outside.
No, not just outside. She was on the Wall of Dunmeaden, the fields stretching into the city below her, the mouth of the Anath a distant speck against the harbor and horizon.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
Aya’s heart seized at that voice. She jerked her head to the left, her eyes taking in his raven hair, tanned skin, gray eyes, bright smile.
Will.
Aya reached for him, but she paused as she took in the smooth skin of her palm.
No oath to the Dyminara, no oath to the man beside her.
Not yet a man, she realized on second glance. Will looked younger, the bags under his eyes not yet a permanent marker on his skin. His brow was smooth, his grin easy as he shielded the sun from his eyes with his hand.
She felt like she had forgotten something—something important.
Why had she expected pain? Why had she thought she was anywhere other than where she was? She blinked, her mind straining to recall the thoughts she’d just had—dark ones, fearful ones, broken ones—but they slipped from her grasp like dreams unremembered.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Will asked slowly.
