It was Oliver.
“It’s not what you think, I swear! The Rebels are not who you think them to be. We were no safer with them than we are with the Veilers!”
Oliver, the boy whom I sat next to by the fire just weeks ago and begged not to break, now stood by my bed with so much hatred directed at me. It cracked something inside me.
“Is that whatRowantold you?” Lily questioned. My mouth opened, but no words came out. “You don’t think we haven’t noticed you siding with the enemy?”
“It’s not what you think! I hate him just as much as I hate any Veiler!”
“You’re on a first-name basis,” Aeva said bluntly. She was right, too. Gods, it looked like I had forsaken them in favor of the Veilers.
My brows raised at the accusation. “I promise nothing is going on there!”
“Your promise means nothing to us! It’s just empty words and pretty lies.” Oliver fumed, and I could hear the tears in his voice. It wrecked me.
“This is how it’s going to work,” Lily said. “You’re on your own from now on. Aeva suspects we are going to have to brave those mountains soon, and I’ve heard that the path isverynarrow. It’s getting colder, and the wind is picking up. One slip is all it would take, and not evenRowancould save you from tumbling down the mountainside. Watch your back, Mavis. You condemned us to this fate, and now we condemn you.May the salt burn.” Her icy words sent a shiver down my spine, and I clutched onto my covers in response.
The four of them walked away as I remained still, barely breathing, reeling from the encounter. No doubt they had told every single one of the culled about my so-called betrayal, and that’s why I received such nasty looks at dinner. They truly thought that I was working with the Veilers, and now I was a target.
My eyes did not close for the rest of the night.
Chapter 18
“Trust no one but your king and your gods.”
- Article 3, Section 1, of the Veiled Compendium
The second night in Summit’s Ridge was worse than the first. The floorboards creaked with every whisper of wind, and I lay rigid on the cot, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it held the answers.
Sleep never came—not with Lily a few feet away, breathing steadily, plotting.
They’d threatened me once. If they tried again, I’d have to act. Gods help me, I’d already pictured it—the weight of my blade, the warmth of blood—but I wasn’t sure if I could strike first.
Telling Rowan had crossed my mind more than once, but that would only feed the culled’s whispers. No, this was my mess. There was no dignity in cowardice, no safety in begging mercy from wolves.
So I lay awake, counting breaths and imagining exits. By dawn, I had none.
We left at first light, traveling in the groups we had arrived in.
Once we reached Lowry’s Pass, a rocky path that ascended and snaked through the mountains, Rowan warned everyone that we could not ride our horses until the trail plateaued. He said it would take about a day to reach the caves that cut through the core of the mountain range.
Rowan looked back at me as I trailed behind him, lifting his brow in a questioning glance. He could tell something was on my mind, but it was none of his business. He had gotten rather comfortable asking personal questions in the past few weeks, and it was my fault for letting him.
He was my captor, not my confidant.
I may have been able to walk untethered, but I still went where I was commanded to go. My leash was invisible, but still present.
Rowan subtly took my wrist and pulled me closer to him and our horse, leaning in to speak.
“You’ve been sending daggers at me all day with those eyes. What have I done this time?”
I tugged my wrist out of his hold and stepped away from him. “Do I need another reason to hate you?”
“I will not apologize for doing my sworn duty.”
I was about to retort when I tripped over a rock that had been kicked under my feet, nearly causing me to tumble over the edge. I watched as loose rocks cascaded down the mountainside. An image of my body among them filtered into my head, and my breathing became ragged. Rowan had caught me by my elbow and reeled me back against his chest. My eyes were still focused on the edge when he brought his hand to my face and turned it toward him.
“Can you look where you’re going?” His words were curt, but his touch was oddly gentle.
