Why he lied. Why he hid important information. Why he needs me to take down The Decay so desperately. Why he is doing all of this in the first place. Why. Why. Why.
I consider the alternative of making this journey on our own. Of returning to it just being Ronyn, Seren and me, but something about that feels lonely.Wrong. Despite myself, I want Kael with me, and dare I say it, Therion, too.
“Fine.”The word is quiet. Heavy.
He nods, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. But something inside me stays wound tight.
I spin back around, letting my gaze stretch far up the mountain.
The Velmara continue leading us up the merciless terrain, their dark forms cutting through the snow like phantoms. None of us speak. We don’t need to. We’ve settled into an unspoken rhythm, a shared understanding that the air is too thin, the climb too brutal, and whatever waits for us at the summit demands our silence.
But the stillness doesn’t last.
The altitude has stolen the warmth from my body, and now it feels like the cold is burrowing into my bones, pressing into my ribs with bony fingers. The sun has long given way to the moon, and the first Stars have begun their slow emergence across the sky. It can’t be much farther.
Anticipation knots tight in my stomach, a visceral unease that I can’t shake. Kael shifts behind me, subtly inching closer, pressing his thighs more firmly around my own, his arms settling against my sides like a shield against the cold.
I pretend not to notice.
I pretend I don’t feel the sturdy wall of his chest, the impossible warmth of his body. I pretend I don’t feel safe in his presence, even though I shouldn’t. Even though I can still taste the betrayal on my tongue. Desire and fury coil together, inseparable.
The final stretch of the ascent is brutal—more ice than stone, the incline near-vertical. My legs ache from clenching around Nyx’s massive frame, but the tightness in my chest is worse. Something waits at the top.
And the Velmara know it.
They break ahead of us in unison, their movements fluid, effortless, untouched by exhaustion. They reach the summit before we do, their dark forms shifting against the pale backdrop of the mountains.
But instead of continuing forward, they stop.
This is it.
A rocky outcropping splits down the middle, a narrow path leading toward a snow-covered plateau. The magic in my chestthrums, a steady pulsing beat, as if whatever lies ahead is calling to me.Waiting.
We dismount in silence. The first thing I notice is the stillness. No wind. No sound. As if the mountain itself is holding its breath.
Then—the growl.
It rumbles through the cliffs, deep and unearthly, a sound that vibrates through the ice and stone beneath our feet. The Velmara move as one, stepping forward to block the path.
Massive paws press into the snow, tails lashing once before curling back. Their silver eyes glow, fixed on us.
No one moves.
No one breathes.
Then, Ronyn—of course it’s Ronyn—raises his hands in mock surrender and takes a slow step forward.
“We don’t want to hurt you. We just need to get to the compass, okay, little fellas?” He croons.
The answer is immediate.
A snarl rips through the night as one of the Velmara lashes out, a single, casual swipe of its paw nearly knocking Ronyn on his ass.
“Woah. Woah. Okay. I guess I’m not passing.”
Therion’s laughter is sharp and unexpected. He claps Ronyn on the back, grinning. “It’s okay, bud. Being scared of a kitty cat is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ronyn shoves him off, but the lopsided smirk on his face remains.
