Once, I was the one who walked beside her. Now I'm the ghost she left behind.
Walter drifts closer again, keeping his distance but offering his strange, wordless comfort. This time, I don't push him away. I can't afford to lose what little loyalty I have left.
My shadows settle around me like a cloak, hiding the cracks in my composure. In the growing darkness, I tell myself it doesn't matter. That I've survived worse losses. That she was never really mine to begin with.
But the bond pulses between us, and I know I'm lying.
She was mine. Sheismine.
And I'm watching her slip away, one new connection at a time.
Chapter 39
Torric
Torric
It’s been three days since the quiet started feeling wrong.
The weight of dry wood presses against my shoulders as I make my way back to camp, my fire rune pulsing warm beneath my shirt. Three days of travel with Callum, three days of watching him weave himself into our group like he’s always belonged. Three days of small wrongnesses that stack up like kindling, waiting for a spark.
Which is probably why it takes me a moment to realize one of themisa voice.
I freeze, letting the bundle of kindling settle against my back as I strain to listen. There—beyond the cluster of pine trees that marks the edge of our camp. Low, urgent whispers that don’t belong to anyone who should be awake at this hour.
“…won’t be a problem,” the voice continues, and my blood goes cold as I recognize Callum’s cultured tones. “Not once we reach the valley.”
I step forward, careful to keep my movements silent, but a branch snaps under my boot like a gunshot in the stillness. The whispers cut off instantly.
By the time I round the trees, Callum sits alone beside his pack, calmly adjusting the straps on his travel gear. His movements are unhurried, casual, like he’s been sitting there for hours instead of seconds.
“Torric,” he says without looking up, his voice carrying just the right note of mild surprise to make me doubt what I heard. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
I scan the area around him, looking for any sign of who he might have been talking to. Nothing. Just shadows that could hide anything, and the lingering sense that I’ve missed something crucial.
“Thought I heard voices,” I say carefully.
Callum’s smile is perfectly calibrated—not too innocent, not too knowing. “Ah, that would be me. I was practicing a long-distance communication spell. Old Guardian trick for coordinating with advance scouts.” He taps his temple. “Easier to practice the verbal components aloud, though I suppose it must sound strange to anyone overhearing.”
The explanation is reasonable. Plausible. The kind of thing a competent tactician would do to keep his skills sharp.
So why does every instinct I have scream that he’s lying?
“Right,” I manage, hefting the wood higher on my shoulder. “Communication spell.”
“The acoustics in these mountains play tricks on the ear,” Callum continues, his tone conversational as he stands and brushes dirt from his pants. “Sound carries strangely, echoes inunexpected ways. Easy to imagine conversations where there are none.”
The words feel like a warning wrapped in casual observation. I force myself to nod and walk back toward the dying embers of our fire, but I can feel his eyes tracking my movement until I’m out of sight.
The next morning—the fourth since Callum joined us—brings no relief from the wrongness that’s settled in my bones. If anything, it gets worse as I watch how naturally he’s inserted himself into our routines. Kaia actually asks his opinion about the terrain ahead. Kieran defers to his route suggestions without question.
On the second day, he’d ridden near Malrik, and I’d caught fragments of their conversation that made my jaw clench even then.
“You’ve done well to hold her loyalty this long,” Callum says, his tone carrying just enough admiration to mask what feels like a probe. “I imagine it’s not easy with a mind like hers—always looking for the next move, the next advantage.”
Malrik’s shoulders tighten almost imperceptibly, but his voice remains level. “Kaia’s loyalty isn’t something that needs to be held. It’s earned.”
“Of course,” Callum agrees smoothly. “Though I’ve found that even the most genuine loyalties can shift when circumstances change. When new information comes to light.” He pauses, then adds with what sounds like casual wisdom, “Power without control is chaos, after all.”
