The memory of him in the dungeon, my back against the wall and his hand inches from my face, surfaces. He had wanted to touch me but didn’t, but hedidtouch me on that scaffolding.
“You know what I mean. He wasn’t the one who wanted to hurt me.”
I can see it, Caym doesn’t believe me fully with his jaw set like a trap, but he does relax somewhat when he drops his shoulders. Leeson is still staring at The Devourer, the same smile plastered on her face.
“Is that right, Devourer?” I’m shocked she asked him the question.
My head swivels over to where the man still stands. I swallow in anticipation.
“I would prefer not to touch her, or hurt her in any way for that matter.”
Well ouch again.Deciding I’ve heard enough, I grab my dagger and a loose piece of leather strap and grab Dahla’s reins, eager to lead her away from where this strange conversation has led to. I turn my back and begin to walk.
“I wouldn’t touch her unless she wants me to.” The voice comes from behind me, quieter.
My spine stiffens and the heat in my belly spreads unexpectedly, though I blame it on the superstition of the spirits and that they’re bound to be observing us by now. I start walking quicker, not about to sit through this awkward encounter.
When I pass Lees, she gives me another look, one I pretend I don’t see.
I’m only a few steps away when I hear her low whistle. It’s not what she thinks it is. The reality is, he’s just saying that to get under my skin, to make us question who he is, but it doesn’t change anything.
He’s a traitor.
The Devourer.
Chapter 14
Kassiel
Iwasn’t certain she had caught me watching her until her eyes locked on mine. I’d not been able to sleep with the burning hellfire scorching my neck that was the Nasc Gal. King Euron was summoning me. He had to have known by now that I was missing, though he wouldn’t know by which means.
The only thing that seemed to help keep my mind from focusing on the pain was to watch her dream. I studied her long into the night, the restlessness of her slumber causing her to jolt in her sleep. It was curious to see her so tense even in slumber, as if she was battling monsters even in her dreams. Possibly she was, just as I have.
What I didn’t expect was to have her face me with such bravery, peering into my own soul with the most haunting blue eyes.
The quietness of the night was nothing compared to the hammering of my own heart thumping so loudly I’d assumed she caught notice.
The moments between us felt so familiar it took everything I had to not crawl to her to kiss her delicate jaw.
Even now as I tromp through the felled branches and underbrush, I’m thinking about the way she studied me and the hunger that whispered between us.
Once the rest of the group woke, she made it a point to ignore me, as if she could deny the unmistakable charge between us.
After a breakfast of cold, unbuttered bread that tasted stale, I was quickly leashed up again and tied to Alora’s mare, to my surprise.
Caym and Lees, as I’ve come to know them, lead in the front. The group split right after breakfast, us heading in one direction, and the others in another. From what I overheard, they were nervous about trackers locating us. They were right to be, especially as the burning of my tattoo has intensified to nearly blinding at times. King Euron will have dispatched Orlin to find me, and when he does, the rest of our party will be broken in many inhuman ways.
The woman with darker skin, Merinda, had taken lead of the other group while Zedriel followed behind, taking on the strikingly similar visage of me. It was startling to watch his face morph until it was a mirror of my own. Their reasoning was that if anyone was after me, they would hopefully follow my doppelgänger and leave Alora’s group alone, clear until we got to their fortress.
Zedriel and the others all did so without hesitation.
If I had that level of loyalty from the men I ordered, I’d be able to launch a successful campaign to be rid of the ink that binds me to the king’s will. I would one day find the witches responsible for chaining Rune and I to the unholy bastard.
Zedriel’s large coat, heavy with moisture, and a reek that seems to assault me with every rise in the wind was left to me as his final parting gift. Even though it is pungent, I’m grateful. The sharp edge of the breeze is one that would soon grate against my skin and make it into my marrow, as I’ve experienced many times before in these primordial woods.
The forest slowly transforms before me. The once lively woods dampened to an eerie hush, barely any sounds at all. The familiar trees from nearest Astoria have dwindled, now overtaken by hollow giants, ancient in their own right. They’re so gargantuan Atop their crowns is a light dusting of snow that's begun to build.
I haven’t wandered these woods in decades. The spirits among the trees aren’t the only beings to haunt this forest. I try to recollect the exact time I passed through these trees and the revelation slaps me—it was well before my time with Eiliorah. Over two hundred turns around the sun.
