A weathered brown jacket hung from his shoulders, and a fluffy gray pelt was draped over one shoulder. He looked like a sea merchant.
He acknowledged each of us, but his eyes riveted to Wolfe with unmistaken surprise. And I was certain fear was there, too, as he took in his wraith-like form.
Still, the old male Fae bowed. Deeply.Respectfully.
It was the kind of bow that showed abounding, unconditional loyalty.
“Your Grace,” he said. When he met Wolfe’s eyes again, he seemed more at ease. “Quite a place you have me sailing to, my boy.”
Wolfe inclined his head. “Thanks for coming, Kaem.”
“No worries.” Kaem dipped his head then looked at me and smiled. “A pleasure to see you again, Lady of the Ravenwood.”
Gods, he knew me. This was one of those situations Grandmother warned me about. Where I’d have to pretend to know a person to keep my curse secret.
“And you, my Lord,” I answered, giving him a small smile.
Though his face brightened, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes told me he knew something was off with me.
“We need to leave at once,” Wolfe said, stopping any further pleasantries. “We can talk later.”
Kaem nodded. “That’s the very best thing I’ve heard you say, my boy. Prepare to set sail.”
He stretched out his hands, and the ship shuddered beneath us. The sails snapped as if caught by a wind, though there was none.
I realized straightaway he was using magic.
The dead sea opened a path, smooth as glass, and the ship began to glide forward.
Only then did Wolfe release my hand.
I’d held on for so long it felt odd to be free of him.
His shadows began to peel away, and the swarm of darkness receded.
The skeletal shape softened. Bone became skin. Then the hollows became eyes—those bright, violent shades of cobalt that made my blood stir and my senses sharpen all at once.
His smokey wings dissolved then vanished entirely, leaving only the male Fae warrior.
But the monster was still within him. I sensed those Deathwalker powers stronger than before.
He exhaled through his nose, jaw tense, as if holding himself together cost something.
I realized it did. He was still weak, still healing. What effort had it taken for him to summon those dark powers and maintain them in the face of death?
“Arielle, take care of Elariya,” he instructed. “I must speak with the Bloodsworn.”
“Of course.” Arielle nodded and moved to my side.
I stared at Wolfe, wondering what would happen to us from here onwards.
But he simply turned away from me and walked ahead. Bastian and the guys followed, leaving us behind.
Was this it?
Was this how we’d be on the journey home—apart.
There was so much more to say.
