“Help me sit her up,” Evelina commanded the soldier. “She needs to drink this tea; it’ll speed up the process of her blood replenishing itself.”
The soldier nodded, hoisting Willow up and causing her to whimper. Evelina held the cup to her lips, careful to make sure she drank the lukewarm liquid.
“She should rest here so we can watch over her for the next several hours,” Gloriana said, her light dimming as she finished mending the gash on Willow’s leg.
“She might not be the only one who needs healing soon,” the soldier said tightly.
Gloriana and Evelina exchanged a look.
“Find us more cots and bring them in here, maybe even a few out front just in case,” Evelina said. “We will prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”
She found herself sending a prayer to Eurydice for the soldiers’ safety, adding an extra one for Daimon as he led them. She may have always known he was on the battlefront, but seeing it with her own eyes made her realize the weight of it—to realize what was at stake. How afraid it made her to allow her heart to care more for him.
Daimon
The battle was quick—only a handful of rebels attempting passage through the mountains. They had caught Willow off guard with a ferrum arrow while she was patrolling, slowing down her healing ability. Daimon’s fleet took care of them before the foot soldiers even arrived. But they captured one of the last remaining rebels.
Daimon landed further out from the cabin, ripping off his scaled armor so he could breathe. Keir landed beside him, his wyvern clutching the rebel in his talons—a fae, a traitor to his own crown. Codax slammed into the dirt, pinning him to the ground and caging him in.
Daimon stalked over, his shoulders stiff. Keir raised a hand, fire winding around his arms and blazing with the promise of death.
The rebel hissed, baring his teeth and thrashing beneath Codax’s talons.
Keir sneered at him. “Sickening one would abandon their crown so easily,” he said as Daimon stopped beside him.
“Fuck the crown,” the rebel spat.
Daimon took a step forward. The rebel’s head snapped toward him, watching him curiously. The trees danced above them as a wind swept through the forest. They stood in silence for a moment, leaves floating through the air around them.
Daimon jutted his chin out. “Think we’ll get any information out of him?”
“Probably not, but it’s better we try now that we have one.” Keir’s gaze traveled over the rebel, barely holding back his disgust. “He might change his mind come sundown.”
Daimon wasn’t surprised. Keir didn’t shy away from using more…questionable methods to get an edge in this war. He was the commander of the Aegis, after all.
Keir turned to walk away, Codax in dutiful pursuit when he paused.
“Well, come on, commander.” Keir’s fire grew brighter as a smile stretched across his face, the flames highlighting his scars. “You’re doing the interrogation with me.”
Twenty
Evelina
A breeze twistedEvelina’s hair around her face, whipping the strands wildly. But despite the chill, a sweat had begun to work its way onto her brow. Some color had already started to show in Willow’s face, her breathing less erratic and growing steadier by the hour.
Evelina walked outside to the back of the cabin to clean her bloodstained leathers and hang them out to dry. A sound broke through the trees, making her pause. It was loud enough that Evelina could place it almost immediately, catching the distant outline of three figures between the trees before she heard the whimpering of a man. She took a cautious step toward the tree line.
Another cry of pain was all it took for her feet to move. She ran through the forest, the cries getting louder until she was a few paces from the figures. She squinted, trying to make sense of the scene, then held back a gasp as she realized what was happening.
The cries weren’t of their soldiers in pain—it was a rebel, clothed in tattered cotton tunics and linen trousers, along with the dark runic weapons they wielded.
Evelina jumped behind a bundle of shrubs and loweredherself to the ground to stay hidden. The sunlight was fading, though she could still make out the unmistakable broad-shouldered Aegis commander, and the man standing beside him.
Daimon and Keir.
Both were facing her, though their eyes were trained elsewhere. Keir’s face was harsh, his mouth pressed into a thin line, but Daimon’s face was shrouded in shadows.
She had never seen him like this. He looked…deadly. Terrifying. A sharp smile stretched across his face and he tilted his head to the side, studying their hostage. He had a rope of shadows around the rebel soldier’s throat, binding him to a tree. With the evening sun illuminating the man’s face, she could see his veins popping and straining against the shadowy rope.
