Julian’s gaze flicked to the window, where the rain beat harder against the glass. When he looked back, his composure had hardened again, every inch the incomprehensible master of shadows.
“I might,” he said, “but you’re not going to like it.”
Chapter 16 - Layla
Fifteen hours ago
The trail began just beyond the last houses of Skymist, where the cobblestones gave way to dirt and pine needles. It was a narrow, twisting path she had only ever seen from afar, the start of the old track that wound toward Aurora Peak. It had been so clear in her dreams, the taste of pine sharp in the cold air, the gentle sink of wet earth beneath her feet. Beyond, the mountain called to her like something alive.
Now she stood at its foot for real, breath white in the early morning chill, heart thrumming with both fear and anticipation.
The pack still slept behind her, the town dark except for a few lamps in the harbor. Even the gulls hadn’t yet begun their morning cries. Layla hitched her pack higher on her shoulder, adjusted the straps tighter, and stepped onto the trail.
Julian had left her basement roughly six hours ago, by her calculation. He’d wanted her not to venture out.
She reckoned she had today, and today alone, to slip out from under his watch and climb the mountain. He wouldn’t expect her to so brazenly disobey him so quickly.
“I’m sorry, Julian,” she said to the wind, wincing at the thought of what Dominic would do to him when he found out.
That wasn’t her problem. Julian could scheme and lie all he liked, but Layla couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk him revealing her secret to Dominic. Couldn’t live with the constant fear of it hanging over her head.
Her one chance, her only chance, was to get to the top of the mountain and prove to herself and everybody else that hervisions were more than just dreams. If she could go to Dominic, convince him that she could be useful to the pack, that she could save lives…
Maybe he’d let her live. Let her stay.
Sucking in a breath, she began her steady climb.
She was lucky, she supposed, for the first few breaths of winter. This route up to Aurora Peak was immensely popular with tourists eager to try their hand at the challenge. Scale Nanuq Mountain and get back down again in twelve hours. During the peak of the summer season, it was common to have dozens of hikers attempt the climb every day. She always had a table at the bookshop dedicated to the climb, from guides to memoirs to photo albums.
At this time of year, however, with the rain falling thick and the snow settling on the peak, the trail was blessedly quiet.
Which meant,she hoped, that the trail would be unguarded by the Volkhov and Nordan. The last thing she needed was any wolves sending word to Dominic that they’d picked up the Luna of the Volkhov, scrabbling up the mountain.
Not that it was uncommon for members of the pack to run the trail. In fact, it was very common.
As wolves.
The human challenge was up and down again in twelve hours. For wolves, it was an hour. Most of the shifters could clear the whole mountain range in two.
Layla, however, was unable to shift. And that meant the long and arduous hike would be on foot. She knew she had no hope of getting there and back again in twelve hours; in fact, she’d be lucky to do it in twenty, hence the early start.
But she needed to know.
Each crunch of gravel underfoot sounded too loud in the silence. The forest swallowed everything: no wind, no birdsong, only the sound of her breathing. The pines grew denser as she went, their trunks thick and close, the air damp with moss and resin.
It had rained in the night. Her boots slipped on wet leaves, and twice she caught herself against a tree before she could fall. She muttered a quiet curse and kept going. The incline was gradual at first, almost gentle, and then, mile by mile, the earth began to tilt sharply upward.
She stopped at a bend in the trail, already winded, and looked back toward the town. Skymist was a smudge of rooftops and gray light far below, the sea stretching beyond it like slate. From here, everything looked small: the docks, the town square, even the sprawling grounds of the Anchor. She tried to imagine Dominic somewhere within those walls, pacing perhaps, irritated by her absence.
He wouldn’t understand. He never did.
The thought hurt more than she wanted to admit.
She pressed on. The air grew colder the higher she climbed, and the scent of pine gave way to something cleaner, snow and stone. The sharp bite of cold stung her lungs with each inhale, her legs groaning with each step. As she went, she blanketed herself in warming spells, healing spells, but the effort was constant.
She knew the risk of coming alone. The woods that surrounded Skymist were not safe for anyone, least of all a female who could not shift. But it was broad daylight, and this route was one of the more open, nowhere near the borders of either Volkhov or Nordan territory.
And through it all, through the uncertainty and the fear and the apprehension, her determination burrowed deep.
