Stark watches me intently. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the ferocity of his stare sets my teeth on edge. Maybe he expects me to peel off at any moment and try to leave him behind. Or maybe he just expects me to fall off my direwolf like the greenhorn I supposedly am.
Either way, tension crackles in the air between us. Anassa bristles, irritated by my resistance to having him here.
“Be grateful,”she growls into my mind.“You do not understand the dangers ahead.”
Maybe she’s right, but I’m getting really damn tired of Stark and his malicious condescension. The fact that he doubts me so much he’s willing to follow me to the front lines like some kind of nanny makes me burn with resentment.
What the fuck does he care if I die? The manhatesme.
Maybe he just wants to be there to see it happen, I muse darkly.
Anassa bristles again. She doesn’t say anything, but her judgment comes through with crisp clarity. She thinks I’m being childish—and ignorant.
I ignore her, focusing in on the path ahead. This isn’t about Stark or anybody else.
It’s about Saela.
Within minutes, our lightning pace carries us out of sight of the city. As soon as the castle spires disappear behind thetreeline, Stark says, “If you’re going to be reckless, at least let me keep you alive.”
I look at him with a start. Is thatconcernin his voice?
He meets my gaze with the usual scowling intensity, but there’s no malice in it. No condescension. Almost like he guessed what passed between me and Anassa just now and he’s trying to… what?Reassureme?
What the actual fuck?
Thankfully, I’m saved from having to respond by Anassa kicking up her speed. All at once, the air is whipping past with such violence that talking is impossible.
Thank the goddess.
I put thoughts of Stark aside and focus on the path ahead. It’s more difficult than expected. I’m all too aware of his wolf racing along beside us.
Focus on the goal,I tell myself, gaze trained on the winding path through the forest ahead. It takes us down from the mountains, over the foothills, and into the sprawling, tree-choked valley below.
We’ve been on the road for a few hours when the wind starts to pick up, buffeting us despite Anassa and Cratos’ unnatural speeds. I glance over at Stark and see that he’s adjusted his seat, sinking even deeper into the fur of Cratos’ neck and back until they almost look like one mythical creature. I do the same, burrowing into Anassa, and I feel her spark of approval.
None too soon, because shortly after, thick flakes begin to fall. The wind is whipping them into my face, down the collar of my coat, little piles of snow gathering in the joins of my clothing and melting into icy streams of water that dampen my clothes beneath my leathers.
The flakes turn into sheets of snow, and I stop trying to brush them off—it’s useless, at this point. The blizzard is ragingso furiously that I can barely see Stark and Cratos through the snow, even though they’re just a few paces away.
A little of my doubt and worry passes through the bond, and Anassa comes back with fond annoyance.
Okay—she’s not worried. That makes me feel a little better.
I press my face against the fur of Anassa’s neck until the flakes can’t reach me, folding my arms beneath me and pressing them into her fur until all my most vulnerable parts are hidden from the elements. It’s not the most comfortable way to ride, but at least I won’t get frostbite.
We near Linsfall just before evening—or at least I think we do, it’s hard to tell the time of day through all of this snow. I get a little spurt of relief when I see the lights of the fiefdom through the trees up ahead.
This is the halfway point; directly south of Linsfall’s city center, within the bounds of their fiefdom, is an outstation where troops and Bonded can set up camp, rest before making the second half of the journey to the front.
The weather is still raging too hard for us to set up our tents, though. I raise my head to watch Stark, possible again as the snow has let up just slightly. He doesn’t look back at me, his focus straight ahead at the city walls we’re fast approaching.
Some stupid part of me doesn’t want to stop. The urgency I felt when I read Egith’s message hasn’t abated, and the wolves could probably keep going a few hours more.
My rational brain knows that would be idiotic in this weather, though. My body burns with exhaustion and cold, my thighs aching from their grip on Anassa’s back. I’ve never ridden her for this long before and it’s making my muscles scream. My back is tender where the moisture from the snow has seeped in and my damp clothes rub against my leathers.
Linsfall is an ancient city, like Sturmfrost, built in stone and timber. Stark guides us to a gatehouse built into the thick wallthat encircles the city, and miraculously there’s still a gatekeeper holding watch there, though I don’t know who she thought could reach Linsfall through all of this snow.
Watching her converse with Stark, I realize—us. They’re probably ready for Bonded to show up no matter what, weather conditions be damned.
