I huffed, scowling at him. The corners of his mouth twitched up.
“You’re not wrong,” I grumbled, scooting to the end of the wagon. He handed me the crutches as I slid to the ground.
“I am usually right. Probably should get used to that.”
I rolled my eyes and hobbled around to the front. One of the horses shook its mane as the Issaraeth climbed into the seat. He held out a hand, and without hesitating, I accepted it. Magic encased my leg to protect it as he hauled me up like I weighed nothing more than a feather.
Thankfully, the bench was wide, and after a few awkward shuffles, I managed to sit with my bad leg outstretched and supported.
The position grazed my shoulder against the Issaraeth’s. Neither of us flinched away.
“Follow,” he shouted at Ilae. The auravane extended his mighty wings, flapping them a few times, before leaping from the branch and sailing ahead. He made a lazy loop around us,diving between the round trunks like he was hunting his next meal.
My mate ordered the horses on next, and we jolted along the dirt road, headed toward the capital of the Angel Realm.
I let myself bump into him, then leaned back again.
Close. Comfortable. Controlled.
Just as he had done to me while we ate earlier.
This was the next step—making himwantme near, and not out of some duty to protect me. Because he craved my presence, outside of the chain linking our fates. This undercurrent between us, raw and crackling, could be twisted. Wrapped around my hand and yanked. Exploited to gain power for myself.
To become the storm.
But as our bodies brushed again, as sparks slipped under my skin, a single, undeniable truth sank its teeth into me.
He wasn’t the only one being unraveled.
If I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t just lose my direction in the squall.
I’d drown in it.
27
Settlements carved themselves into the cloud forest as we journeyed closer to Sivy, providing more opportunity to stop for a proper meal.
But with it came the added danger of Sylaira being exposed.
In the previous village, the stablehands had whispered of a growing restlessness among the people as news from loved ones at the front of the war flew home. The advance had halted, and Zahal Ishim seemed to have no interest in pursuing the Demons further south in their realm.
I needed to return to Sivy as soon as possible. Soldiers’ reports were gripes disguised as truth. Yet the thought of entering the gates of Thalvireth, the ire that would surely await me, along with my other obligations, knotted my gut.
A battle of an entirely different variety warred inside me—my duties on one side, my mate on the other.
I glanced at Sylaira as we rolled into a town, alive with midday activity. Thank the Goddess her hood was pulled high, and she was slumped low in the wagon.
The main square was a hive, people coming and going from shops, children bursting from the school and running home to their mothers for food. A group of workers laughed as they sheathed their blades, taking a break from hacking away the overgrowth that always threatened to consume their homes.
We rolled to a stop at a hitching post, framing a cart already abandoned by its driver for a drink. This was by far the busiest settlement we’d entered since leaving Stadur, and then, the downpour had kept everyone indoors.
I rounded the rear, finding my mate scanning the crowd with wise wariness. The attackers in the forest had shaken some of the Elessarum foolishness out of her.
I held out my hands to her, and she accepted them. I savored the spark that lit at the touch of her skin. Hated that I did.
She offered me a small smile as she slid down with practiced ease. I grabbed her crutches and handed them to her.
The past few days had been almost…easy with her.
