A distant, furious roar echoed from the forest. Asterious gestured toward the horses. “Run. Get to your mare and go. I’ll handle the other one.”
“No—”
“Caramyn.” He started to grab her shoulders, but then hesitated. “It will come back for the letter, and I can fight it…but youcannotbe here.”
“I’m not just going to—”
“Go!” He howled, a burning white flashing in his eyes. Enough to horrify her.
Enough to recognize them from the moonless night she’d tried to escape the castle.
“Go!” His voice boomed again.
She didn’t argue. She ran.
Her mare whinnied as Caramyn vaulted into the saddle, heels driving her forward just as the second Cavren burst from the trees, not slowing or hesitating, but locking on to chase her.
Branches tore at her cloak as she drove the horse into the woods, heart pounding so violently she thought it might shatter her ribs. The forest closed in fast. Too fast. Hooves thundered. Stone claws struck earth behind her.
Then the Cavren leapt.
Instinct took over. Not thought. Just a hand in front of her face, shielding herself.
And then Shadow surged outward in a violent burst, swallowing the space around her in cold, living darkness. The force slammed into the creature midair, earth-colored blood spattering over Caramyn like hot rain. The Shadow hurled it back with a bone-rattling impact that split bark and sent it crashing through undergrowth. And then it withered, like the soul had been yanked right out of it.
The woods fell silent. The shadows receded, dissolving in thin air.
Caramyn slowed her horse, and stared at the dead beast’s gargoyle-esque form. Then felt a presence long before she even looked. But when she finally did, she saw him. Asterious stood at the forest’s edge, staring.
Not at the Cavren, but ather.
The distance between them felt wider than the cliff, wider than the sea. He took a step back, as if she’d struck him. Betrayal warred with grief in his eyes, raw and unguarded.
And Caramyn knew before he spoke another word that whatever they had almost been to each other moments before had just been torn apart, as surely as that creature had been crushed between Asterious’ hands.
31
Hypocrite
Caramyn
The forest did not feel the same once the Shadows had answered a call she did not realize she’d made.
Caramyn sat rigid on her mare, her pulse still skidding unevenly through her veins. The Cavren lay broken somewhere behind them, and the thick, watchful silence that weighed down the air between them was haunting. As if the trees themselves waited to see what would happen next.
“Show me,” he finally said, those glowing eyes now dimmed back to steely silver. The simple two words struck harder than any accusation.
Caramyn swallowed. “Show you…what?”
“You know what.” He finally looked at her then, in a way that made her chest ache. “The markings.”
Her breath caught. For a moment she considered lying again, feigning ignorance or stupidity. But that ruse was old now. And the taste of deception had long gone sour in her mouth. If he wouldn’t accept her, that was one thing. If he wanted to kill her—well, at least she was already poised to flee on her horse.
Show them who you really are…Then let them decide...
She slid down from the saddle. Each step toward him felt like walking toward fire. Her hands trembled as she reached for her sleeve, gently tugging it upward to peel away the fabric covering her inner elbow, the smoky black veins peeked out more with each roll of her sleeve, branching black lines that curled and twisted like roots seeking water. They pulsed with a faint violet shimmer now, as though stirred awake by whatever magic she had unleashed.
Asterious inhaled sharply. He didn’t try to touch her. He did not step closer. Instead, he took a step back. And Caramyn felt it like a blow.
