Her eyes drift to Alleria, who’s sitting to one side, nibbling on bread, and keeping her eyes lowered. The almost-smile fades.
Therin follows her gaze. “So …”
“Don’t.” I say.
“I’m not saying anything.”
“You’re about to.”
His mouth twitches. “I was just going to say that you seem … distracted.”
“Therin.”
“What? I have thoughts.”
“Keep them to yourself.”
He laughs again. Vel doesn’t. She takes a sip from her waterskin, and then looks at me. “Be careful, Eldráfn. This distraction could cost more than your freedom.”
I don’t reply. Alleria is listening, almost vibrating as she waits to see what I say … so I say nothing. Instead, I stand and walk over to her. She doesn’t look at me. I let the silence build.
She’s the first to break it.
“Therin called your mount Selveryn. What does it mean?”
“Moonwraith.” It costs nothing to give her the answer.
“What is it?”
“Our steeds exist between solid and spirit. They’re creatures of old magic. The name describes what they are.”
“Do the others have names?”
“Kaethros is Therin’s. Veylith is Vel’s.”
“What dotheymean?”
“Kaethros translates to something like ‘shadow that hunts.’ Veylith—" I pause, searching for the right words. “Blood ember. The glow that remains after fire passes through flesh.”
She gives a small laugh. “That seems appropriate for Vel.”
Silence falls. I wait. She’s circling back to what she really wants to talk about. She’s been chewing on it all morning, the awareness of that connection sitting between us like a third presence.
“It’s still there. I can feel it when I concentrate.”
I say nothing.
“Like a thread … or a rope.” Her hand drifts to her chest, pressing against her sternum. “It pulls toward you.”
She’s describing the Nightwild bond. The blood bond sits deeper, tangled through both of us, but the Nightwild magic is what she’s feeling. The thread that wants to tie her to me the way Therin and Vel are tied. The one that will keep pulling until she accepts or rejects it.
“You’re not going to tell me what it is.”
“No.”
“Will you ever?”
I look at her, at the mark on her throat, and the way she’s watching me. She’s going to keep pushing at this until she gets answers.
