We were both tangled in a fate neither of us fully understood.
Vaeron had his duties—to his sister, to his svaethi, to the Angel Realm as a whole—but he also had his duty to me. The only question was, which one would win out when we reached Sivy?
And more importantly…
Who would I become in the midst of war?
32
One more day until we arrived in Sivy. One more day until I met a fate worse than death—worse than being chained to the Issaraeth himself.
This time, there would be no running. No escape. No freedom.
I still hadn’t quite accepted that after all this time, I’d finally been caught. The weeks traveling with my mate had been a hurricane, the eye of the storm where I’d lulled myself into a false sense of security.
Ahead, violent winds waited to batter me into submission.
Even the thought of my best friend couldn’t unwind the knot in my gut.
It didn’t help that the closer we journeyed to the capital, Vaeron slipped into deep thought, often for hours on end, as he drove.
He’d continued to soften. To remain vulnerable with me. Toshow me that obsessive, possessive side that stitched an odd sense of safety into my soul.
His mind was a flurry of lightning strikes, each thought a bright flash that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Far too fast for me to snatch at. And yet amid the chaos, desperation cracked through.
I’d thought about creeping into the recesses of his mind, just to watch, on more than one occasion. But I didn’t want to break his trust when we were finally at peace. That truce might just be the difference between a tolerable or miserable life once I was behind the silver bars of Thalvireth Palace.
Even though the Korona was his sister, Vaeron would protect me from her. His actions during our travels toward Sivy were a direct demonstration of that. First, the robbers. Then, the workers. He’d gotten me a clean, lighter cloak so as not to attract further attention. He kept me close and scanned crowds like there was danger lurking behind every smile.
His protectiveness was the haven I’d always truly sought. Every hour I spent at his side dripped bitter betrayal down my throat—of my friends, of my family, of my beliefs.
I hated that I didn’t hate him anymore.
We stopped in a town, my mate stepping away to speak with what looked like a group of warriors on one side of the square. With him distracted, I reached into my tunic and pulled out my last vial of virelthorn. Uncorking it, I dumped the leaves into my hand. Three small, curled leaves tripped onto my palm.
My brows lifted. I shook the vial again like that would magically make more of the astringent herb appear.
“No,” I whispered, staring at the empty glass.
I thought I had more?
But with how quickly I’d had to steal a few and chew them in secret, or hide them from Vaeron as I dressed and undressed, I hadn’t had a proper look at them in days.
And it wasn’t like I could hop out of the wagon and scour the forest floor for a bramble of virelthorn. Even though my injured leg bore some weight now without sending excruciating zips up my spine, I still needed the crutches to maneuver. Which didn’t exactly make me stealthy.
With trembling fingers, I picked up each leaf, comparing the sizes to find the largest. One would be enough for today…I hoped. I’d just eat one a day rather than a few at a time.
Everything will be okay.
I didn’t believe the lie.
“What’s this?”
Vaeron’s voice shattered like hail across my skin.
I whipped my head toward the lip of the wagon, finding him staring at the glass in one hand and the leaves in the other.
“What do you have?”
