“Which means they forgot to add her to these border wards,” Jay said.
“I’ll take her through the portal,” Drayven said. “Get back to the Academy and speak to Milanthra. I want to know why the fuck Onyx isn’t in our systems yet.” He scooped me into his arms.
“Whoa…” I squeezed my eyes shut against a wave of dizziness.
“Lean your head on my shoulder,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
I inhaled him greedily. “You smell so good.”
His chest rumbled. “You’re not yourself right now.”
I sniffed him again. “Good. I don’t want to be myself. I hate myself.”
He pulled me closer, a sigh rattling through him. “Oh, Anamaya…”
His tone had a grounding effect, and the world grew less distant, leaving my words hanging between us like a dirty confession. My chest tightened. I wanted to take them back, to say I hadn’t meant them, but that would be a lie.
Damn the ratakan spray. Tension flooded my limbs—those creatures were still on the loose. “Drayven, the ratakan are still out there.”
“Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you, not while you’re with me.” He set off at a brisk stride.
I let my head fall to his shoulder, suddenly bone-achingly weary. From the run, from my loss, from my fucking life.
“Are you all right?” Drayven asked softly.
I didn’t want to talk about my feelings. Not now. Probably not ever. “I’m fine. What are the ratakan?”
He was silent for a moment, and I sensed him wavering between answering my question or pressing me about my mental state. I held still, barely breathing as I waited.
“Ratakan are border guards,” he said finally. “Created to act as sentries to keep Horrors from getting too close to the wards.” I relaxed against him, and he continued. “A decade ago, we had a minor breach—the ward was overwhelmed by a horde of Horrors. The Carvers stepped up and created the ratakan to prevent that from happening again. They’re fed Hunter blood every month, so they recognize not to harm us. You were lucky we reached you before they could attack.”
But the ratakanhadattacked—and then been repelled. My scalp prickled, and something the Weavers had said about the Weave came to mind.
It may grant you protection in this time, or it may not.
They’d also said a veil still existed between me and the Weave. That I needed two more sessions to be fully restored, but… “I think the Weave protected me against the ratakan.” I quickly explained what happened.
“That’s encouraging. It means the Weave deems you worthy.”
Wings of hope fluttered in my chest.
“The northern border can get icy,” he continued. “Let me know if you get too cold.”
“Coming from someone wearing only an undershirt.”
“I’m always hot.”
“Damn straight you are.”
He chuckled, and my cheeks burned.
“I’m not sure why I said that.”
“You mean you didn’t mean it?” he teased.
I grinned up at him. “I’m obviously heavily under the influence right now.”
His face fell in mock disappointment. “Well, there goes my ego.”
