“We should return to the castle. I am sure Dafne is wondering where I am.” Thalia began to walk back toward the trail they had taken through the forest.
“Your sister has proven that she can handle herself and if anything were to happen in the few hours we are gone, Cal is there to protect her.” Dimitris padded up next to her before slowing to match her stride.
“All my sister has proven is that she is impulsive. It is what got her taken by the Lernaen Legion to begin with and it is what will be her downfall. I am grateful, as I said last night, that you will train her, but I am not sure that will be enough to prepare her for what is to come.”
Dimitris did not respond—something Thalia had never seen from the prince before. He was not one to bite his tongue, but rather the man who would always have a comeback. Perhaps heknew she was right. Perhaps none of them were prepared for what was to come.
A large gust of wind poured through the trees, whipping up the top layer of snow in a spiral around their legs. In their brief break, the sweat had dried on Thalia’s skin, and although they were moving, walking and running were very different in these temperatures. Her hands began to shake first, her teeth chattering following shortly after. There was no way Thalia could run again, not after pushing herself to her limits. Why had she let them go so deep into the woods?
Warmth came out of nowhere, enveloping her and seeping through her skin to her rattling bones. A thick fur-lined cloak now hung from her shoulders, the outside of which was waxed to further keep out the winter’s chill.
“Where…” Gods, Thalia wasn’t even sure how to ask the question. She had brought no cloak with her and Dimitris certainly had not been carrying a pack or the extra piece of clothing. “How?”
Dimitris chuckled. “One of my many wolfish perks.”
“Wolfish perks include conjuring cloaks out of thin air?” Thalia asked, her brows wrinkling together.
“In essence, yes. It is the same magic that allows me to be clothed when I shift.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it was common knowledge that shifters could just create material from nothing.
“That’s ridiculous,” Thalia huffed out in a breath.
“Of all the things you have seen in that world, magic that allows me to conjure clothes is what you consider ridiculous?” he replied.
“Yes.” Thalia stopped momentarily. “But for whatever tricks you used to get the cloak here, thank you.”
It was increasingly more bearable to walk with the cloak protecting her body from the elements. Once again, the prince had surpassed her expectations. For two years, all she had learned of the male was that he was selfish, reckless with his own life and any who came close to him. Dimitris had proven again and again the past few weeks that he was so much more. Loyalty only got you so far, only made you be so kind to a person. This was more than that—the way he acted toward her, toward Dafne and Cal, was borderline compassion, a familial sort of love she’d only experienced with a few people over her lifetime.
It was terrifying.
Dimitris dragged his hand through his hair, slicking back pieces that had fallen in his eyes as they walked. “You surprised me the other day.”
Of course he would ruin a perfectly good moment where she wasn’t reminded he was a lustful fool. “Because I let you touch me?”
His brows raised high. “No, that wasn’t a surprise at all. I meant on the ship, the way you fought and still had the strength, the determination to take over at the helm, hold theAphroditesteady as she battled the last of the storm. It was admirable and quite frankly a beautiful sight to behold.”
Thalia tilted her chin up toward him, trying to hide the shock that was so clearly written all over her wide-eyed expression. “I did what was necessary, that was all,” she whispered.
“Your parents would be proud of you, Thalia, if they could see you now,” Dimitris said, reaching for her hand, but she pulled it away and continued to walk toward their destination.
She never should have mentioned them last night, not to him. Her heart clenched, all the blood racing away from it, any air she had in her lungs seeping out. Thalia couldn’t bring herself to tell him that her parents would despise all she had become.
The library at the castle was smaller than most, made up of an assortment of hand-copied journals of the men and women that had lived in Skiatha over the centuries. They depicted life on the isle, trade routes, logs of ships that made port on the northern docks. Only a small section, warded from shifts in temperature and moisture behind glass, would be useful to them now.
Inside of the glass dome were circular rings of bookshelves, beginning with the least rare books on the outside and becoming increasingly more delicate in nature as the center approached. A wooden table was at the heart of the room, large enough for two or three people depending on how close one minded sitting. It was almost always unoccupied. Only when Alexander was present at the castle, documenting his travels to the continents where he compiled research about the rise and fall of the Olympi, did any other Skiathan dare enter through the spelled door.
Breaking the wax seal on a single piece of parchment Alexander had given Thalia, she unfolded the letter. There were no words, only a combination of numbersand characters.
Φτερ0704
With the tip of her dagger, Thalia pricked her pointer finger, letting a bead of blood bubble out. She reached her hand toward the door of the glass dome, running her finger over a silver bar that locked the door shut with a crimson smear. It was a safeguard against potential intruders, only those deemed worthy of entering were allowed, the intention of why a person needed entry ingrained in their very blood.
Three clicks signalled the locks had unlatched and Thalia pushed the door in, hurrying past to not let the outside elements trickle into the dome. When the door shut behind her, a silver-blue light buzzed around the seal, locking her temporarily inside. She inhaled deeply, her lungs adjusting to the change in pressure and dip in humidity. The sound of rustling pages echoed against the glass. Someone was already here.
Stepping lightly through the stacks, Thalia drew a second dagger from her sheath. Even though the wards protected this room against sinister intentions, she couldn’t be too safe. Every ward, every spell, had a loophole. It would be just her luck that a nefarious person chose today to disrupt the balance. Perhaps it was Sebastian—finally out for vengeance against her, or reaching for power he did not deserve. More rationally it would be the library’s curator, though Thalia swore she saw Kinna returning a stack of books to the shelves near the entrance.
“Why are you creeping through the stacks holding two daggers, Thalia? Is something wrong?” Thalia jumped at the sound of her sister’s voice. Of all the people she expected to be sitting in here, Dafne was at the bottom of the list.
“I heard noises and I thought there might be an intruder. No one ever comes in here.” Thalia resheathed both her daggers andpulled out the now crumpled piece of parchment that listed the journal’s log identification.
