“To what end? You can’t poison them all. Sooner or later, they’ll catch on. They’ll be waiting for you. This…this isn’t sustainable. You can’t do this on your own.”
She threw her hands in the air. “You knew that when you asked to come with me. Is that not the very reason you begged to aid my efforts?”
He clenched his jaw, giving no answer.
She rolled her eyes with a scoff. “We ran into one close call and now you realize this isn’t all fun and games. You should have known from the start that this wouldn’t be some glamorous quest where you save the damsel in distress and come home the shining hero, bearing not a single scratch. I meant it when I said that I don’t need you, but…” Her throat went dry. She tried to swallow her next words down, but they burst from her lips before she could stop them. “I liked having you around today.”
His expression softened, eyes turning down at the corners, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Cora…” His voice was soft, strained.
She took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. With a slow exhale, she lowered her shields just long enough to feel his turmoil. His emotions were too jumbled to untangle completely, but she identified guilt. Shame. Fear. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. “What is it, Teryn? What aren’t you telling me?”
Slowly, he lifted his eyes and met hers, his expression pure agony. “Did you kill Queen Linette and Princess Aveline?”
Her breath left her lungs. She was more stunned than if he’d slapped her. For several moments, all she could do was stare. Suspicion crawled up her spine, raking claws through her heart. “How long have you known?”
He paled. “You did it then.”
She took a step back, a spike of fury sending heat to her cheeks. “No, of course I didn’t.”
His eyes narrowed as he watched her, his arms stiff at his side. Berol too stared from her perch on his shoulder, wings slightly lifted. Teryn’s fingers flinched, a subtle movement toward his sheathed sword. She went to reach for her bow only to realize she’d already wrapped her hand around it. When had she done that? Suddenly she understoodthatwas why his posture was suddenly defensive—becauseshe’dreached for a weapon first. And yet he kept his hand open at his side, ready to fight should it come to that, but not willing to make the first move.
It was almost painful to force her hand away from her bow, to ball her fingers into fists. As soon as she did, Teryn visibly relaxed. Berol ruffled her feathers and nestled back down.
“I was framed,” she said, voice quavering with restraint, “by Duke Morkai.”
His eyes went wide. “The man orchestrating the hunt for unicorns? He framed you for murder?”
She nodded.
“So, what you’re doing with the unicorns, with the hunters. It’s…personal.”
Another nod.
He studied her again, and she could feel the doubt pouring off of him. Of course he wouldn’t believe her. How could anyone take the word of a poison-wielding witch over one of the most powerful men in Khero?
She waited for him to react. To ask her to prove her innocence. To sneer, argue, or condemn.
But he didn’t.
“All right,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Then once more, clearer, louder. “All right. Then it’s even more important that we leave at once.” Without another word, he stormed off.
She blinked in his wake, confused by his reaction. He was nearly swallowed by shadows far ahead by the time she started following after him. She had to jog to keep up with him when she reached his side. “What’s going on, Teryn?”
He said nothing, only quickened his pace. It was enough to send Berol launching off his shoulder to follow them from above instead.
Her heart was a thundering, rioting mess as they marched into camp.
They pulled up short.
Lex stood as soon as he saw them. His eyes were wide as he searched their faces. Then his gaze swept over the five figures who stood silently around them. “I have no idea who these people are,” he said, voice pitched with fright.
Cora, however, knew exactly who they were. Four of them wore black armor etched with a crescent moon. Guards. The fifth wore an elegant black coat embroidered with gold geometric designs that ran down the front and hems. Black leather gloves adorned his hands, and in one he gripped a gentleman’s cane topped with an enormous amber crystal.
Cora’s eyes locked on his face.
She recognized his black hair, his arched brows, and the pale shade of his blue irises. His cheekbones were sharp, his jaw sharper.
“Morkai,” she said through her teeth.
