Stark sleeps with me the next night, too—and again, I have a perfect, dreamless night. When I ask him about it, he says he can sense the shadows descending. He touches me when he feels it, and it pulls us both out of it.
With sleep, I’m finally starting to return to myself.
Still traumatized, still heartbroken.
But finally confident that I can muscle my stubborn ass through it—my specialty.
And then it’s time for us to depart for Weisenstat. In the end, Venna decides to join us. I tried to persuade her to stay back, to be near her family, but she refused. She needs the sense of purpose, to keep herself going.
Nevah stays in Sturmfrost, though. She’s going to act as my liaison in the castle—and also keep an eye on Tomison for all of us. His words and his actions still fester like a wound, but he’s my friend. I need to know he’s all right.
I decide to bring the shards of the Dire Blade with me, for goddess knows what reason.
It’s not like they’ll be much use in battle the way they are. It just felt wrong to leave them behind, and perhaps we’ll meet someone outside Sturmfrost with a better sense of how they could be reforged.
Now the pieces are wrapped in cloth and gathered in a bag lashed tight to Anassa’s back. Just one more broken thing she’s carrying with her.
We ride hard in the direction of the front—Stark, Noemi, Venna, me… and Saela.
My sister shifts in front of me now on Anassa’s sturdy back. The hiccups she had from sobbing have finally stopped, I notice.
“The young pup will be fine,” Anassa says firmly, hearing my thoughts.“She belongs with us, her family.”
Saela and I had a blowout fight. I tried to persuade her to stay at the castle, where Aldrich and Helene and Grigore could take care of her, keep her safe. The war front is no place for a child—especially one in her condition.
She cried for two days straight, begging me to take her with us. Eventually, I relented, with Anassa’s encouragement.
Encouragement might be the wrong word.
She made it clear she would bite me if I didn’t follow her command.
“If you say so,” I respond, smarting with irritation. How can you argue with an unyielding direwolf and a mouth full of fangs?
Thankfully, my head is no longer pounding from reinforcing that wall against Killian. I can’t sense him at all anymore; he’s disappeared from the communication bonds alongside Phylax.
The sun drifts low, the sky turning purple and pink. The air is fresh. The treesflanking the road are dense and drizzled with sugary snow. We move through the forest as if we’re part of it, claws sinking into mud, tails whipping, fur rippling.
We’re nearing Linsfall now, according to Stark, where we’ll stop for the night.
But we’re not near enough.
Saela grows increasingly restless, fidgeting and scratching at her arms. At one point, she leans down to smell Anassa’s fur as if to ground herself.
Her blood hunger is rising.
“We should stop briefly before reaching the city so that I may hunt for her,” Anassa tells me. It makes sense for Saela to drink before we’re in a crowded area. I want to make things smoother for her.
I pat Anassa’s side in confirmation, and she slows her pace immediately. I signal to the others over the bonds that we’ll make a quick stop—Saela needs a bathroom break, I tell them, to explain the privacy we need—and guide Anassa into the depths of the woods.
Once we’re far enough from the road, I slip from Anassa’s back in a small clearing.
She waits patiently for me to help Saela and unfasten a couple of the bags she’s carrying. I want her light so she can catch something quickly. Anassa slips away between the trees, and Saela moves jerkily to lean against a tall fir.
She’s clearly stiff, her body racked by her need for blood.
We stand in the quiet for a long while. Golden light still shimmers through the boughs. Somewhere, a graydove lets out rhythmic hoots. I expected the silent treatment to continue, but Saela’s voice joins the sounds of the forest, crackly like her throat is too dry.
“This is going to be my life from now on,” she murmurs. “Forever hiding what I am.”
