This is why I needed out of Wrohelm. This is why I have to find a way to control this magic before I get myself or my friends killed.
‘I’ll ride with Caz,’ I blurt out, just to break the uncomfortable silence that has formed. Everyone is looking at me with concern, and I hate it. Hate being a damned liability.
Thankfully, just like with Kyor’s suggestion, no one disagrees.
Chapter 20
At midday, we stop long enough for the horses to rest, then head off again as soon as Ruben assesses them and says they’re good to go. None of us want to linger. More snow has begun to fall, and staying still for long, especially without a roaring fire, feels like a sure way to get hypothermia.
‘When did you learn so much about horses?’ I ask Ruben before I mount up with Caz again.
‘Used to muck out at the second ring stables as a kid,’ he says with a shrug, like it’s nothing worth mentioning.
I blink. ‘You did? I never knew that.’
‘And I never knew you were into narcissistic, controlling arseholes,’ he huffs, only half joking. ‘Would have changed my tactics if I had.’
I laugh despite myself, the sound slipping out before I can stop it. For a heartbeat, things feel easy. Familiar.
Then it hits me.
Kyor’s jealousy prickles across my skin like static, sharp and unmistakable. I turn instinctively, whipping round to glare at him. His expression is shuttered, jaw tight, eyes dark with a possessiveness he has no right to anymore.
Hegets no say in my friendships.
Not now.
Not ever.
For the rest of the afternoon, Elska shadows me like a silent accusation, and I’d bet good money it’s because her rider can’t stand how close Ruben rides beside Caz and me. Well, he’ll just have to get used to it. After all, he seems to have forgotten that only a couple of nights ago he was waltzing around the High Hold ball with a pretty little courtier on his arm.
He’s a liar and a hypocrite, and that’s what I have to keep reminding myself of.
We’re riding at a fair pace when the wind shifts.
Elska’s ears snap forward, her whole body going taut, and a low, rumbling growl builds in her chest, so deep the earth seems to vibrate with it.
‘What is it?’ I ask, unnerved as Caz pulls tight on the reins of the horse, slowing it to a stop. They’ve been incredibly tolerant of having a wolf join their herd over the last day or so, and the last thing we need now is for the horses to bolt. The others halt too, following suit.
Kyor’s hand is on his sword, his expression sharpening as he assesses our surroundings.
‘Stay here,’ he whispers as he dismounts from Elska and moves to my right. Ruben hands his reins to Benny as he drops from his bay and draws his own sword before moving towards the tree line on my left.
They’re protecting me, the arseholes. As if I’m a damsel in distress. I’m about to rudely correct their assumptions when a faint warning prickles my scalp.
The forest has gone silent.
Too silent.
There are no birds. No rustling of branches. Not even the whisper of snow settling.
‘It can’t be Torailians, can it?’ Caz questions nervously. ‘Not this far into our lands.’
No one answers. I assume it’s because none of us know. As far as I was aware, the battles for the Torailian territory all happened north of Galreck, and none have taken place for decades, if not longer. But then,as far as I was aware, my mother was Morathkian and my brother was murdered as a child.
Deciphering the truth from the lies is becoming as hard as separating the clouds from the water they possess.
Elska steps even closer to me, her massive frame pressing into the side of our horse as if she intends to bodily shield me. The horses do not shy away. That alone sends fear skittering up my spine.
