Her left hand slips up to cover my exposed cheek, cupping my face, a startling touch that makes me freeze.
The top of her head presses harder against the bottom of my chin, and her whole body tenses.
My mind spins so fucking hard at her touch.
How long has it been since another fae willingly touched me?
Within the sudden mess of sensation, I’m certain of only one thing: If Stellen wants to kill me, he’ll have to cut up the Oracle’s hand.
I catch his widening eyes before he pulls the strike, wrenching his sword away from her.
He sails past us without drawing blood and drops to the ground far below.
Landing as lightly as a feather, he rights himself, his sword swinging down by his side, before he tips his head back to watch us go.
The Oracle’s callused palm feathering my cheek is a distraction I can’t afford because the danger isn’t over.
Maxim has stayed on our tail.
I grit my teeth in frustration.
There’s only one way he’ll stop following me.
I urge my eagle to the right, and he obeys me. He wouldn’t, if he knew where I planned to take us.
We shoot across the wide coastal mountains, our speed picking up now that we can fly on a straighter path. Even so, he follows the best currents, creating slipstreams that buffet our pursuer.
It won’t be long before Maxim resorts to using his flame. He must be desperate now to find a way to take me down.
He won’t have a chance much longer.
The bloodlands loom up ahead, the shadowed mountains sheltering even darker valleys. Black clouds boil across the sky, blocking out even a single ray of light, covering the bloodlands in constant, starless night.
To travel through, or even fly across, that cursed land is to invite death.
Maxim won’t follow me there. Stellen wouldn’t either. I’m certain of this, at least in Stellen’s case, because he’s never tried a stealth attack along the edge of my kingdom that borders the bloodlands.
Now, Maxim will need to decide if the Oracle is worth the very real risk to his life. After all, he’d have a greater chance of fighting his way into my kingdom from the south, assuming he’s willing to let her go for even a day.
Leaning left this time, I force my eagle to turn toward the shadowed lands.
The bird fights me, pulling in the other direction, at which I give a guttural roar, “Turn!”
A shiver runs through his body before heobeys.
I don’t trick myself into believing it’s because of loyalty.
There’s a reason no other eagle will carry me.
His response is pure fear.
I can fucking smell it on him.
He’s more afraid of me than he is of the monsters lurking in the bloodlands. At least he has a chance of escaping them.
The shadows rise ahead of us. Only moments away.
I take a deep breath of sunlit air, and with it comes the scent of the Oracle’s hair. A powerful mix of fragrances that even the rushing wind can’t snatch away.
