Cason swore under his breath. “Four hells, what did I do now?”
“Not you, Captain,” Elias said, shoulders not loosening even as the path widened. “That man is… not a good subject.”
“Why hasn’t she just killed him?” he asked.
Why hadn’t those two killed him either?
Farrah shook her head, running her hand over Moonheart’s neck. “You’ve seen what Brela is capable of doing. Do you think she’d let him live this long, do those things to her, if she could kill him just like that?”
Serill frowned. “He’s that bad?”
“Things between her and Ovir are messy,” Farrah answered.
Cason did not like that word.Messy. It had too many implications.
“Trust me,” Elias added. “There is nothing I’d love more than watching you burn that sick bastard from the inside out, but that would just make problems worse for Brela.”
Farrah let out a soft breath. “Keep in mind that Dernian saved her life. She trained with Ovir—who is just as fierce as her, maybe even more so—since she was nine. She was given a second chance at life, safety, and control. Those men aren’t just responsible for scars, but for a lot of healing, too. It’s messed her up.”
Elias’s features turned somber. “Which is why freedom terrifies her just as much as Ovir’s grip does.”
Suddenly, Oni’s warning, Brela’s claim that she’d been at fault for her bruises, and her defensiveness at the auction made sense. Ovir might not release his claws entirely, but Brela might have just as much trouble letting go.
As if that wasn’t enough to churn his gut, that sickness only got worse when they caught up to Brela half an hour later. Standing at the edge of a cave with Night Carver drawn, she shook her head at the ground.
At the picked-clean bones and bloodied scraps of fabric of four and a half bodies.
“Noglida,” she mumbled, turning to them but not meeting any of their gazes. “We should find a defensible place to stop before the sun sets.”
* * *
The oversized ledgewas about as good as it was going to get.
Bushes and fallen rocks littered the area, with trees jutting out of crevices and casting jagged shadows around them. It wouldn’t be long before the fire and moon would provide their only sources of light. Then, it would be a long night on high alert with little sleep.
Between the echoes of animals hissing and howling, the fire crackling, and rocks sliding, no one could really settle down. Every noise had Serill and Farrah jumping, and Elias only pressed his back further into the mountain face. Even Brela had refused to put away her blades, twisting the throwing knife in her hand as she flipped through her notebook, making notes on whatever she found in the military plans and experiment journal they’d stolen from the Anfroy camp.
Cason watched her sitting at the fire with a new fascination. He’d always noticed how she seemed to pick up on little things, similar to his perception magic, but he’d never realized howgoodshe was at it. Though she noticed whenever there was a noise, she had an uncanny ability of deciphering what was a rock falling and what was an animal. The former, she’d only slow the spinning blade in her hand. The latter? Her entire body would tense until the small animal skittered past or bird flew overhead. And she always knew what direction they came in, even as the echoes played with the sounds.
She’d been trained well.Insanelywell, to the point he had no idea how it was possible for someone without perception magic to be so in tune with her surroundings. It also made sense that she had gone so long as the Night Terror assassin without getting caught. If it hadn’t been for the hellthorn in her system the night she was captured, she would still be safe in the forest.
Well, relatively safe. If Ovir was more fierce than her, Cason didn’t want to think of what the man might be capable of doing. There was still a lot Brela hadn’t shared about him, and even what little Cason knew was horrifying.
Eventually, Brela sighed and put away the military documents. But she didn’t close her notebook, instead flipping to an empty page as she started drawing those cursed shadow magic symbols.
He still felt guilty for how harsh he’d been the last night in Qord. When she flinched at the way he said shadow-cursed, he would have thought he slapped her in the face. Not that he would, but it might have hurt them both less.
Unfortunately, that was how he felt—how he would always feel—and he was feeling a lot of other emotions on top of that. Fear, anger, confusion, loss, and love were all bubbling at the surface. It should have sent his power over the edge as well as his temper.
Cason rubbed at his chest. That fire inside him wasn’t a flicker, but it wasn’t blazing. It was just… there. Calmer than it should be.
His eyes darted back to Brela as she lifted her notebook, frowned and cocked her head, then spun the pages around a few times. Pursing her lips as if she were deep in thought, she turned to look at him. Then, just stared, quietly blinking like she was reading his thoughts. When he raised his brow, she only offered him a sad smile then returned to whatever she was drawing.
Four hells. He needed to fix things between them. Even if things were ending, he didn’t want it ending likethis.
He got up and sat next to her. “It’s very unsettling when you’re quiet.”
Before he could see anything, Brela closed her notebook and glanced over her shoulder at the other three who suddenly seemed very interested in a loose thread on Elias’s shirt.
