This is not real. Wake the fuck up, Avery!
Someone screamed so loud it seared through her mind. All around her, the men fought, but that screaming continued, harsh and raspy.
Avery realized the screaming came from her. She tried to move away from the head, but her legs were caught on something. The dead man’s headless body was on top of her legs. It was so heavy that no amount of squirming could get the man off of her.
The man who killed somebody with a thorn bush leaned close enough for her to make eye contact. Bright blue eyes sparkled under heavy lids. A few strands of his long, black hair fell forward across his face.
He spoke in a soothing, lilting voice, but she still couldn’t make out what he said. Like the first man, he somehow had tattoos under the skin. Not on his face, but across both of his exposed arms and hands. The tattoo design writhed under his skin. He brought his hand up toher face and spoke gently into her ear. His fingers brushed against the wound on her head, and he continued to whisper something that she couldn’t understand. A cool breeze rushed through her senses. When she breathed in, she smelled the pungent scent of sap. A sense of calm infiltrated her mind. Her body felt comfortably warm, like she was wrapped in a cozy blanket on a couch. The pain pounding through her head diminished, and Avery succumbed to the relief, closing her eyes.
Chapter four
Savine
Savine was almost certain the loyalists that reached Quartz Mountain before him hadn't noticed that this tiny woman carried the five stars along her forehead, the mark of the Premier Goddess Althea. He’d never even seen someone marked by the Goddess, other than the most high priestesses serving her directly. This whole thing was unheard of, and he wasn’t going to take the chance of leaving this woman behind.
His team had taken out most of the enemy, but at least one had escaped and would report her existence to the King of Latiah. He’d need to get more warriors on night watch and prepare everyone for a potential skirmish. If one of those fucking torturers saw Althea’s mark on the little woman’s head, it was going to be a full-scale battle. There wasn’t a single fae ruler who would pass up the opportunity to get their hands on someone who was Goddess-touched.
But who was this small woman? Where did she come from? He looked down at her slender sleeping frame. She was like a feather in his arms and sent a soft warmth pulsing through him where her arm draped across his shoulders. He cringed, wanting to pull her arm off his bare skin. Nothing made him want to recoil more than an unwanted touch from another person, especially a stranger. But now wasn’t the time to shrink away from this strangely warm sensationbetween them. He cradled her head against his shoulders as he began running down the sacred mountain.
This woman was strangely beautiful. Her features were smaller and softer than most fae, with pillowy lips and round cheeks. Her body felt surprisingly stronger, more muscular than he’d expected from such a small creature, and her bright clothing made her look like some sort of beacon on the mountain.
“Jay, run ahead to the elk and get them ready to ride. We’ve got to get this girl to a healer,” Savine ordered to his master of elk.
“Right away, sir,” Jay replied with a grin on his blood-speckled face. Before Savine replied, Jay was running with more speed than a man his size should be capable of. But that was Jay—always ready to do as Savine commanded without complaint. He was one of those eternal optimists who made Savine question how a man could go from killing his former countrymen to smiling in a matter of minutes.
Savine commanded some of his scouting party to search for the escaped loyalist and ordered others to assist with watching for potential attackers while he carried the girl down the mountain. One of his warriors carried that strange, torn sack that the woman had been leaning against.
Savine made quick time down the trail. The essence of his magic pulsed through his body as his feet moved swiftly across the rocks. The woman in his arms continued to lie limply against his firm body. His team had no trouble keeping up with the brutal pace, and they reached the base of the mountain in less than an hour. The commotion at the top of Quartz Mountain could attract various creatures, and he didn't want to risk his team being exposed in these mountains for long. Once he had this marked girl back to the safety of the summer encampment, he would be able tobreathe again.
Savine checked the woman’s pulse. Still strong. His essence would have her knocked out for a couple of hours. He noticed her rounded ears as soon as he began scanning her head injury.
“Abyss, damn me! This woman is a human,” Savine said as he touched the soft, rounded shell of her ear.
“How is that even possible?” Weston, one of his personal guards, asked.
“Have you ever seen someone with rounded ears? I’ve only heard of them in legends. Not even the Bayberries have them,” Savine replied.
“Of course not, sir. But how could ahumanbe in Aeritis? Maybe her ears were docked? Like a new way the king is marking slaves?”
Savine knew in his soul that couldn’t be true. This woman was not from Aeritis. Her clothes were soft and stretchy. Like nothing he’d ever felt in all his life. There were also the strange shoes, and the huge, bright red bag.
“Use your discernment, Weston. Look at the woman. What escaped fae slave with docked ears would ever wear clothing that advertised herself as walking prey? What in the Abyss is that bag that is half her size and glowing like a bright red beacon? I won’t be surprised if the Nepheli sends an eagan down to investigate the thing.” Goddess alive, Weston was slow at times. But Savine trusted the man with his life every day. What did that say abouthim?
Jay waved the scouting party over to a group of trees where the elk were saddled and ready to ride.
“Jay, hold the woman, then pass her to me,” Savine said. He passed the slight, sleeping human to Jay.
“Everything about this woman is peculiar. Where is her essence? What are these strange clothes?” Jay muttered, more to himselfthan to Savine.
Savine climbed on his huge mount, Jari. Jari’s sable fur glistened in the midday sunlight. He would need to be careful with the young woman. Jari’s antlers were a massive rack, even for a war elk. One wrong move of his head would slice this woman to pieces.
Savine held the reins in one hand as he reached for the human. He nestled her against his chest. Her warm breath tickled him, and his essence shuddered under his skin as he felt a tiny tug on his heart. What the fuck was that response? Savine positioned her so that her arm and head rested on his leather armor, no part of her touching him.
“We’ll have answers once she’s seen Kyla and is awake. She should be able to heal her without needing one of the Bayberry healers. Let’s ride before this place is crawling with fae,” Savine said. Pressing his heels into the elk’s flesh, Jari responded with a snort and took off at a run.
The trip through the forested mountains and down to the open valley was free of conflict with the loyalists. As the leader of the Latian rebellion, Savine walked with a target on his back wherever he went, but the summer’s battles had already begun to wind down. After over twenty-five years of civil war, he’d begun to see the predictable patterns in this war. Battles throughout the Middens in the summer, then preparations for the harsh winter when the war would cease, only to resume again in the spring. The stalemate between his rebel forces and the loyalists seemed to have no end in sight. Not until he could find allies to help him push past the pass that separated the two halves of Latiah, or until he could successfully kill the king.
With the encampment in sight, Savine drove Jari into a sprint across the open grassland. He saw who waited for him outside the protective walls of the summer encampment.
