Not waiting for a response, he turned back to Alaric. “You’ll have to send someone back for my things. We’ll bring these four humans.” He pointed at me and my family casually, like we hadn’t just been told no. Then he gestured to Lore, Julian, and Peregrin. “As well as these three folk. We’ll send someone back for a fourth, who’s not present at the moment.”
At the mention of Gwen, I bit my lip. I didn’t know her well, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate us ditching her.
I swallowed.
Did Soren have enough pull to convince them to bring us?
“Yes, Your Highness.” Alaric didn’t show even a hint of protest as he shrugged out of his leather vest that held some of his weapons and handed it to Soren, who pulled it on without a word.
Just like that?
His “absolutely not, and you can’t make me” had turned into “yes, sir” because of Soren?
My gaze flew back and forth between the two of them, as I struggled to process that it might actually be happening.
Soren was taking me—taking all of us—to Mom.
Honestly, I’d schedule my meltdown for later. I wasn’t about to turn this down.
“A pen and paper, as requested, Your Highness,” a voice croaked from two feet below us. An amphibious scribe whose head reached our knees held out the items. Soren took them.
He strode to the king’s dramatic table of roots and scribbled a quick note—I assumed to Gwen, currently stuck back at the burrow, about our quick exit and sending someone back for her.
Soren folded the pages and turned to the scribe, who offered him a seal. Setting the sticky red stuff over the fold, Soren pressed one of his rings into it before handing over the message along with directions on where to deliver it.
Lore and Julian had come out of the shadows to join us, more subdued than usual. Peregrin looked excited to fly again, though, grinning the same way he did when making breakfast each morning.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Soren told them softly. “It’s your decision.”
“We would’ve gone home a long time ago if not for you,” Lore said, speaking for all of them. She crossed her arms. “And you know it.”
When Soren turned to Julian and Peregrin, they both nodded agreement. Julian added in a firm tone, “As Brynn put it, we’re going, and you can’t stop us.” He gave me a wink.
I ignored his teasing, way too overwhelmed to process a joke right now. This was finally happening. I’d pinch myself, but there was no way I could’ve dreamed this up.
Soren spoke softly to Dad. He made sure that he, Rissa, and Olive were all comfortable with three other winged fae, including Alaric, who ended up with Olive. Her blonde form was tiny in his huge muscled arms as he lifted her with one hand under her back and the other beneath her legs. He flung his dark wings wide, and the fae behind him followed suit. They held Rissa and Dad the same way, waiting on us.
A shiver of anticipation shook Soren’s wings as he stepped up to me. “The journey is a few hours on foot,” he murmured, ignoring everyone else. “But less than half of an hour by air. That said, if you’d prefer not to fly—”
“No,” I interrupted, unused to seeing uncertainty on his face. I stepped closer, studying the soft dark feathers on his wings in awe. “Flying works. I’m good.” Was I? I hadn’t really thought it through, but I didn’t want him to worry.
Reassured, he took my arms and wrapped them around his neck. “I’ll take you, then.”
Nodding, I swallowed and then whispered, “So, did I overhear someone calling you Your Highness?”
The tiniest smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Long story. I’ll fill you in when we get there.”
Apparently, I was a bobblehead now, because I just nodded some more.
His arms moved to my back as if we were hugging. But his lips lowered to my ear, and he whispered, “Hold on tight.”
He flung his wings wide, scooping me up to wrap my legs around his body. It wasn’t until he crouched to take off that my heart started beating frantically.
Launching us up, Soren’s wings pounded the air, shooting us into the night sky.
