Wells sucked in a breath from where he was perched stiffly atop the stallion’s back, his voice quivering. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t he moving?”
He had done well enough on foot this far. Every time he refused his turn on horseback, I thought he simply enjoyed walking, until I noticed the way his knees threatened to fold with every step. It hadn’t taken much prodding before he confessed the truth of being deathly afraid of horses.
Ronan hadn’t wasted time arguing. He’d scooped Wells up like a child, tossing him onto Zyran’s broad back. Wells had gone rigid, frozen with fear, but stillness was better than bolting. At least he hadn’t tried to throw himself off.
And so, I led Zyran, while Wells sat pale and trembling ten feet up on the most imposing horse I’ve ever seen. I’d grown annoyingly fond of the noble beast. His strength, his temperament, the way his dark eyes met mine like they already knew me.
I’d already thought of a hundred reasons why Ronan should let me keep him after all this was over. If there was an after. If I survived long enough to claim him.
Even with gentle coaxing, and medium aggressive prodding, Zyran still wouldn’t budge, his hooves anchored to the stone.
“He’s broken,” Wells blurted.
I nearly bit my tongue to keep from laughing. “He’s not broken,” I promised, rubbing my face against the silk of his nose. “Just stubborn.”
A low rumble slid from Ronan’s throat as he slid down from Niveus. “It’s the mountain. The horses won’t enter it.”
I frowned as Killian reached for his feathered dagger at the same moment Kanoa unsheathed two of his own. The only other way was exposing us in the open, so now what?
Nezra slipped from her saddle, her raven circling down to her shoulder. It hummed something, a warbled tune. And I caught Elva harmonizing to it in a soft murmur.
Inessa and Kanoa swept their eyes across the cave's mouth, searching for any reason we shouldn’t enter, while I drifted too close to the cliff's edge.
Fifty feet below, waves hurled themselves against the ridge’s side, the whites of them clawing high as if to drag me under. Salt burned the back ofmy throat as I gulped, stumbling away, unsettled by the thought the sea might want me more than the land.
When I turned back, Wells stood face to face with Zyran, Elva guiding his hand along the stallion’s muzzle. Her touch was loving, patient, and Zyran’s ears twitched with adoration.
“See?” she giggled. “It isn’t hate. But he feels what you feel. Fear breeds fear. And you have nothing to be afraid of.”
Wells swallowed, dragging his palm along Zyran’s neck, over his broad, muscled shoulders.
I smiled, quietly. Not because the fear had vanished—it hadn’t—but because he chose to reach anyway. To push against it. And if that wasn’t the bravest thing of all.
“Do we have to leave them?” he asked, one hand fisted in Zyran’s mane. Like letting go meant more than he cared to admit.
Ronan came forward, Niveus at his side, the mare pinning her ears when Killian stretched a hand toward her. She had never tolerated him, no matter how many times he tried to claim her. Ronan didn’t bother hiding his smirk.
“I’ll send them back to Ryuu.” Ronan’s hand pressed firmly to Wells’ shoulder. “They know their way.” Wells’ gaze lingered on Zyran, likely hoping it wouldn’t be the last time he’d set eyes on his new friend. Ronan squeezed, a reassuring gesture as he bent to meet Wells’ face. “You’ll see him again.”
My heart stuttered at the deceitful sincerity in his voice. The kind that made you want to believe even when you knew better. Wells nodded, grateful, while I swallowed the ache of wishing I could trust a vow from Ronan too.
It all shattered when Elysian returned, feathers shifting to flesh. He landed hard, eyes dark and lined with urgency. “The Bale has found us.”
The Bale. No longer just myth or rumor. But real.Here.
Ryuu was nothing but greys: stone, sky, cloud. Perhaps this was why. The aftermath of something that should never have existed.
My gut twisted with a truth I didn’t want to voice. That we were chasing a shadow, a ghost. The dark heir Callum swore was alive, maybe long ago, didn’t exist in this world. And nothing we did was going to erase what had already awoken.
But I couldn’t let myself believe that. Not with Elva depending on the hope. And yet, if theywerereal, if they had survived Nyctom’s fall when Kairos died, why would they have stayed in ruin? Why not flee? Why not hide so deep the world forgot their name?
Callum drifted nearer to Elva as her eyes roamed for the sickly remnants of the plague. My own pulled me higher, toward the vast swell of stone and mountain, toward the way they drove, endless, into the sky.
Ronan stiffened, only one word falling off his tongue like gravel. “Sahfyre?”
I didn’t know what it meant then. But I felt the severity of it in the way Inessa’s fingers crushed Kanoa’s hand, the way his knuckles blanched without flinching.
Elysian bowed his head. “Safe,” he murmured. “For now.”
