“Since you freed her,” I say, resigned. “Killian turned her, at some point between when we found her in the dungeons and when you and Stark got there. She doesn’t remember it happening. He altered her memory.”
Venna’s face falls. “That poor girl.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her, my throat tight around the words. “I didn’t want to hide this from you but… I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Meryn,” she says. “I’m so fuckingmad at you right now. Siphons are our enemies. They’re dangerous. And you’ve had one living under our noses this entire time. You let me spend timealonewith her, tutoring her, without telling me the danger I was in.”
I grab her arm, but Venna shakes me off.
“Ven, I trust you, I swear,” I plead. “But the fewer people who knew, the better. She’s my sister. My only living family. You know that I would do anything for her.”
She turns her head, watching Saela as she sleeps against the tree. Hopefully seeing the same thing I do: a small, innocent, hurting child.
Someone to protect, not fear.
“We’ve been feeding her animal blood,” I continue. “She’s been under close watch at all times—yes, even when you’ve been teaching her sign language. Didn’t you wonder why Helene and Grigore were always keeping guard? Aside from the fangs, she hasn’t been a threat to anyone. And I’m trying to figure out how to reverse it. I’m going to save her.”
Venna’s lips flatten into a tight line, her dark eyes growing glassy. “I get it,” she says eventually. “There’s nothing more important than a sister.”
The words twist my insides into a tight, painful knot. I reach out again, but she holds up a hand, stilling me.
“I need some time to think about this, Your Highness,” she says, her voice aloof.
My heart sinks. “Please, Ven.”
The wind blows her short strands of glossy black hair around her face, still turned away. “I understand from one sister to another, but friend to friend, I just… need space, Meryn.”
Noemi finally chimes in. “Why don’t Venna and I go ahead to Linsfall? We’ll spend the night with the nobles there as planned and tell them that you and Stark had to keep moving.”
My gaze darts between the two of them. Venna still won’t look at me.
“That probably makes sense,” I say slowly. “Goodness knows we can’t exactly take Saela into town right now. Stark and I will set up camp somewhere nearby, and you can meet back up with us in the morning.”
Assuming they don’t both decide to turn right back around to Sturmfrost. I can’t say that I’d blame them for it, either.
Ephyse and Skaia pad over, their muzzles bloody and their paws coated in dirt from their horrific task. Stark follows, pulling Noemi to the side and talking in a low tone. Their bodies are pressed so close together, and I glance away, feeling like I’m intruding on something. When they part, Venna and Noemi mount.
Noemi nods to me, then the two of them turn tail and head toward the encroaching darkness.
Stark approaches me with Cratos and Anassa. “Looks like we’ll be camping tonight,” I tell him.
He grunts. “I have some packs for that. Dumped them off Cratos in the woods when we realized what was happening to you two. Let’s go grab them and find a clearing that doesn’t reek of death.”
Stark helps me lift Saela’s listless form onto Anassa’s back, and then we both mount our wolves. Within an hour, we’ve found a suitable campsite slightly closer to Linsfall and have set up a campfire to keep us warm in the cool night air.
I pull the shadows down around us, an amplified form of the Kryptos rifting power. It masks our location entirely. The ease and strength of the pack powers will never cease to mystify me, but then, I know Anassa is helping me channel them.
Of the two of us, at least one is wise and skilled in the ways of the Bonded.
My direwolf has lain down on the opposite side of the fire. Saela is curled up in Anassa’s side, continuing to sleep. I pull a scratchy woolen blanket out of one of Stark’s packs and lay it over her. I’m not sure how long she’ll be out, but between Anassa’s warmth, the fire, and the blanket, she should be comfortable through the night.
Finally, I stop busying myself and plop down on a big fallen log we have set in front of the fire. Then I put my head in my hands, grounding myself in the warmth of my own palms.
If I think too hard about the look that Venna first gave me when she realized what was happening… I just might fall apart.
Stark throws another log onto the fire, and I look up in surprise at the sound. He looks every bit his reputation right now: His shirt and jacket are caked in blood and gore. There’s a ruby slash of it across his cheek, and I know it’s not his own.
I’ve seen Stark fight before, was awed by his battle strength at the front. But today…
