CHAPTER TEN
Ronyn,Seren, and I stand ready—or at least, as ready as we can be. Our blades are strapped, our bows slung, our nerves frayed. The weight of what lies ahead presses heavily on our shoulders. Readiness, I think, is something else entirely, but the sky is still cloaked in darkness, and daybreak is too close to linger any longer. It’s time to leave.
Revryn pulls us into one last embrace, his arms strong and steady as they gather us close. His voice, gruff but filled with warmth, carries the weight of years and love. “I’m so proud of you. All of you. I love you like you are my own flesh and blood.”
“Alright, alright, old man,” Ronyn says, his lopsided grin in place, though there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Let us be off before you start crying.”
Seren steps back just enough to look Revryn in the eye, her voice trembling with sincerity. “Thank you, Revryn. For taking me in. For showing me what fatherly love should look like.” She pauses, her hand briefly gripping his arm. “We’ll see you when we come home.”
Revryn’s smile is small but full of pride. “You will,” he says, his voice quiet but certain. He looks at each of us in turn, his gaze lingering on me last. “Move like the night, my loves.”
On his final words, we slip out the window and into the darkness, the faintest whisper of his presence still clinging to the air behind us.
The perimeter of the slums is seldom guarded. It doesn’t need to be. The Frael Forest, with its beasts and whispered tales of gnarled roots and death, is deterrent enough. Even the boldest slummer knows better than to test its boundaries. No one goes in, and no one comes out—a truth as ironclad as any law, enforced not by soldiers, but by fear itself.
We move silently through the thinning streets, our footsteps muffled by the dirt paths that give way to the tangled outskirts of the forest. The faint glow of the moon filters through the sparse forest to our right, casting ghostly shadows on the ground—the remnants of the slum's dirt streets still apparent on the forest’s edge. My heart pounds in my chest, every beat echoing louder than I’d like against the oppressive stillness of the night.
Ronyn, ever the hunter, takes point, his movements swift and quiet as a shadow. Seren stays close behind me, her breathing uneven but controlled, while my senses remain razor sharp, scanning every flicker of movement, every sound that could betray an unwelcome presence.
The fraught silence of the forest edge carries an unsettling weight. The air is thick, charged with an almost predatory stillness, as though the forest itself is holding its breath, waiting to see if we dare cross its threshold.
Ronyn freezes suddenly, his hand shooting up in a signal for us to halt. My stomach clenches as I strain to see what’s caught his attention, my eyes narrowing against the dim light, and I draw two blades from their sheathes at my thighs. There’s a figure standing just ahead, half-shrouded in shadow but unmistakably there—a man, tall and broad-shouldered, leaning casually against the crumbling remains of an old stone outpost.
Kael.
Even in the dim light, I can make out the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint gleam of steel strapped across his back, and the air of calm command that clings to him like a second skin. My stomach twistsdespite myself. Stars, he’s... striking. Broad shoulders tapering into a lean, powerful frame, every inch of him exudes the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly what he’s capable of. He’s not just handsome; he’s arresting in a way that demands attention. A warrior. Dangerous. And yet, despite the raw power in his stance, there’s an elegance to him—a kind of predatory grace that makes it impossible to look away.
It grates on me. Heknowswhat he looks like. I can see it in the way he tilts his head, in the deliberate calm of his gaze as it locks on to mine.I’m not staring,I tell myself.I’m assessing a threat.
But something else catches my attention—a second figure, emerging from the shadows at his side. Taller, leaner, but no less imposing, with a quiet intensity that seems to radiate from him like heat. His presence is a stark contrast to Kael’s measured stillness—dangerous, coiled energy barely restrained beneath a calm exterior.
“Who the fuck is that?” Ronyn mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible.
“I don’t know,” I murmur, though my eyes stay locked on Kael. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t so much as shifted his weight, but I can feel the intensity of his gaze on me, sharp and unyielding, and I return the same.
Ronyn doesn’t wait for an answer. In one fluid motion, he draws an arrow from his quiver, nocks it, and releases it with deadly precision—all in the span of a heartbeat.
“Ronyn, no!” The words tear from my throat too late.
The arrow slices through the air, missing Kael’s head by less than an inch, heading straight for the second figure, but he almost imperceptibly moves at the last moment, and the arrow embeds itself into the stone wall behind him with a resoundingthunk.Kael doesn’t flinch. Not even a blink. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze flicking to the arrow before sliding back to Ronyn with a calm that’s far more unnerving than anger.
The second figure moves then, lightning-fast, stepping forward with a hand already on the hilt of his blade, his sharp eyes scanning us like a predator assessing its prey.
“Easy, Therion,” Kael says, his voice low but laced with authority.His companion—Therion, apparently—hesitates for a moment before releasing the hilt, though the tension in his posture doesn’t ease.
“Interesting way to greet an ally,” Kael drawls, his gaze settling on me now, dark and unreadable. “Though I suppose I can’t fault your instincts. You’ve kept yourself alive this long.”
Ronyn bristles, clearly unrepentant. “Maybe next time don’t skulk around like a fucking shadow.”
“Maybe next time aim better,” Kael replies, his tone so even it takes a second for the insult to register.
“Enough,” I cut in, stepping forward before Ronyn can escalate things further. My voice is steady, though my heart is racing. “We’re not allies. You said you’d meet us. We’re here. Let’s not waste time.”
Kael’s expression doesn’t shift, but I catch the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—approval, maybe, or recognition. He gestures toward the outpost with a tilt of his head. “Inside, then. We’ve got much to discuss.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We enter the crumbling outpost,devoured by time and the elements, as the dawn sky begins to lighten, revealing us more clearly to one another. The space is stark—stone walls worn thin, a fractured ceiling allowing slivers of golden sunlight to pierce through. Dust swirls faintly in the still air—a calm contrast to the storm raging inside my chest.
