My breath left me in a rush. For a moment, I could only stare, too stunned to move. “Amanti.”
Chapter Three
Aurelia
The Aine warrior smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hello, Aurelia.”
My bare feet slapped against the rug, my pulse louder than the fire crackling, and then I was in her arms. My cheek pressed to her shoulder, my fingers digging into the coarse weave of her tunic. Gods, she was so much thinner than I remembered. For a terrifying heartbeat, I thought she might vanish. That she was some phantom conjured by the drugs still crawling through my veins. But she was solid. Warm. Alive.
And then her arm came up—the one that wasn’t bound in a sling—and wrapped around me. Hesitant at first, then steadier. The scent of her as she hugged me—earth and sky and something faintly sweet, like resin, or the sap of trees—was familiar in a way that cracked something raw and aching inside me.
“Amanti,” I whispered into the fabric at her neck. Grief poured through me like water. She smelled like home. Like Sonoma. My mother?—
No, I couldn’t think about her now.
“You’re alive,” I said, joy brimming just as full as my grief.
“Barely,” she said dryly.
I pulled back just enough to look at her, but my hands stayed braced on her arms, unwilling to let go completely. Her face was sharper than before, cheekbones cut like blades, skin stretched taut. Her hair—once a long, shiny black curtain—had been hacked short on one side. The longer side was braided and tucked over her shoulder.
But the worst was her wings… My throat closed at the sight.
Torn. One hanging off-kilter, the other stiffly tucked at her back, scarred and broken.
I swallowed hard. “I thought you were?—”
“Dead?” She gave the faintest tilt of her mouth, not a smile but the shadow of one. “Close enough.”
Her eyes flicked past me to the fae warrior still lingering near the door, hand resting on his blade. Was Amanti their prisoner too? Is this where she’d been all this time?
“What happened?” I asked.
“I went south like we discussed. For weeks, I searched for any sign of the Verdant healers, but there was nothing left of their old tribe.” She frowned and added, “There was nothing left of any tribe, in fact.”
“What do you mean?”
“The southern outposts were emptied. The nomadic tribes who still make their home in Vorinthia’s rainforests were nowhere to be found.”
“What happened to them all?”
“I don’t know. There was no evidence of a battle, but… if they’re still alive, they clearly don’t want to be found.” Her voice dipped lower, roughened by something deeper than injury. “Despite that, it turns out I wasn’t the only creature roaming the southern forests. A Brindalorn attacked me?—”
“A Brindalorn?” I echoed in disbelief. “Impossible. They’ve been extinct for centuries.”
“Apparently not,” she said. “The blasted thing nearly made me extinct, though.”
“And Lesha? Did she find you?”
“Lesha?” She frowned. “No, I thought—” Confusion flickered, turning to concern. “Is she not at Sunspire, holding the wards with Sonoma?”
My shoulders fell. I shook my head. “She went to look for you. We hadn’t heard any news from her before…” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what had happened to Sonoma. What she’d given up to protect Sevanwinds for me.
“We’ll find her,” Amanti said, voice firm.
I nodded, borrowing her confidence. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”
A shadow passed over her features, highlighting the dark circles beneath her eyes. The paleness in her complexion. “The healing process has been slow. My wounds were … substantial.”
