And King Lucien Brightbane stands before me with both of those Tears in his hands, offering them to me. Offering me his faith.
My voice catches up to my shock. “Are you sure? You told me just a few days ago that you didn’t trust me.”
Lucien’s gaze is cool. “If you can put your trust in me, I can extend you thesame courtesy, I suppose. I have something precious to you in my possession, and now you have something precious to me.”
He waits patiently at first.
Then, impatiently, he says, “Itrustthat you will return them.”
“I will. I swear it,” I say. As I take the Tears, the additional power flares in me immediately, dark as midnight and blinding as the noonday sun. I swallow, waiting for the dizzying moment to pass.
“Well, then,” he says.
He stares at his crown in my hands for a moment, then lifts his head and strides toward Anassa’s side. In one fluid movement, he launches himself up and catches himself on her fur. He says something under his breath that I can’t make out and then eases Venna from her resting spot and settles her against his chest.
Her head falls against his shoulder awkwardly, at first, but he rearranges it carefully until her face is hidden against his neck. He even braces her skull with his hand as he dismounts Anassa, preventing the jolt of his impact with the ground from reaching her.
He carries her with reverence. That’s the only word for it. It’s like he’s bearing the responsibility of guarding something valuable and breakable. Priceless, even.
“Something precious to you,” he said, “and something precious to me.” Which means that in his mind, his crown is as important as Venna’s safety.
“Elias,” Lucien orders. Elias moves quickly to his side.
Both the Siphons give me one last parting look, and Lucien inclines his head in a move that, for once, I take as a sign of respect.
And then they’re gone, running through the woods in a blur of disorienting Siphon speed.
I force my shoulder muscles to relax. When I do, I realize my jaw and brow are tight, too, but those I can’t get to release so easily.
“We rest here. Noemi, Ephyse is best at hunting small creatures. We need to eat. Can you ask for his help? Cratos, you find us a stream for fresh water,” I order.
“And bathing,” Anassa reminds me, and I smack her leg.
I’m thankful, though. The touch of humor eases the knot of sorrow and tension and exhaustion within me, just a little bit.
She always knows what I need.
Before we break to start the various tasks required to form a camp, we take one last moment to draw close. To focus on the bonds still flowing among us.
The three wolves form a protective circle around us, and I press my face into Anassa’s fur. I center my mind on her persistent warmth. Even in the dead of winter, it will always be there. Itwill.
“Am I making a huge mistake, going to him?” I ask her.“Am I just giving him exactly what he wants, especially since I have all the Tears?”
She lowers her head and hooks her muzzle around me protectively.“No, you are not. Killian is powerful, but so are you. He does not know what power you bring with you. He willnotbe ready.”
I let the certainty in her voice steel my nerves. My voice is blade-sharp.“I won’t give him a chance to adjust. He’ll be dead before he understands what hit him.”
“Precisely. Rest so that you may finally have your vengeance.”
My exhaustion starts to claim me. I settle against Anassa’s side, comforted by the way her breathing lifts me and lays me down to rest.
Stark’s eyes catch mine from where he’s starting to make a fire. He quirks a brow. I know immediately that he’s asking whether I want him to join me.
But I just shake my head. This is how we’re going to manage it—how we’re going to get close enough to kill that fucker without having to carve my way through my own troops.
“I need to talk to him one last time.”
57
