Page 1 of Ashborne: Defiance

1. Silent Steps

~ VOSKI (Pronounced VOSS-kee) ~

The forest was quiet in the warmth of the late afternoon and smelled of heat-baked pine. The shadows under the trees lengthened as the sun sank behind the Fyrehold wilderness.

Normally, I would have enjoyed the view, taken the time to appreciate the rugged beauty of the purple hills rising before me, and the crickets singing the sun to bed in this foreign kingdom. But suddenly, there was no time.

I had a sneak to catch.

I leaned carefully past the trunk of an old cedar, just far enough to look ahead with one eye, glaring at the hunched back of the woman creeping through the forest twenty feet ahead of me.

Though I couldn’t see her face from this angle, I would know that uptight coil of blonde hair in any light.

What the actual fuck was Lady Grace Barnslow doing all the way out here? And how the hell had she followed me this far before I’d sensed her?

‘You didn’t sense her. I did,’ Kham, my male, goldscale dragon drawled in the telepathic link we’d shared since the day he chose me.

I’d been on my way to find Kham, because the castle where I’d been doing some sneaking of my own was too far away to link in our minds. My commanding officer had disappeared, and I’d wanted my dragon to help me find him. I’d walked for hours, only to finally be close enough to speak in the link, and discover him delighted to warn me that he sensed another human, following in my wake.

It was true that without his warning, I might never have circled back to discover who’d followed me. But he hadn’t warned me that it was the young, nosy, infuriating noblewoman. A lady of wealth and noble lineage, who was now dressed in a stable boy’s cotton shirt and thick trousers, and draped in a cloak colored to blend into the woods.

She wore soft-soled boots that made little sound, and measured her steps to avoid dry leaves or twigs on the ground that might crunch and reveal her presence.

Keeping herself curled well below the forest undergrowth and saplings, she moved swiftly, but silently, deftly positioning herself behind a tree trunk before straightening to scan the surroundings—an attempt, no doubt, to locate me.

I frowned, watching her creep through the trees, as silent as any skilled tracker. Or spy.

Despite my frustration, I couldn’t help but admire her skill. And be unnerved by it.

I’d always had an uncanny knack for sensing an unseen enemy. If my dragon was right, it was a God-given gift. Yet, I’d felt nothing as she trailed me, despite the fact she had to have been following for hours.

Was she a witch? The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I hesitated in my pursuit when she paused and sank to a crouch, turning her head slowly so quick movements didn’t draw unwanted eyes—yet another clue that she’d had training.

It took long moments for her to scan the woods ahead until she’d turned so she was on profile and I could see the consternation on her pretty features.

The urge to stride out of my hiding place, to startle her, teach her that following me was a fool’s errand, was so strong, my body twitched. But I cautioned myself.

She’d slowed her pace and grown wary because she’d lost sight of me. Her senses would be heightened. If she truly had been trained, and I startled her, I might find a knife suddenly in my chest, thrown in reflex before she was aware enough to hold it back. Or, if she knew more of who I truly was than she’d let on back in the castle, and sought me as an enemy, she’d throw the knife on purpose.

She’d been told I was nothing but a servant to a visiting general and his companion. Why would she follow me all this way, except to kill me?

Yet, here we were, hours from the castle. If she’d wanted me dead and to cover her own tracks, she could have killed me hours ago, with little risk of discovery, and far less likelihood anyone would notice her absence from the castle festivities.

She could have thrown that knife before I’d even known she was there.

The thought made my blood run cold.

But I was still breathing. So, what the fuck was she up to?

Whatever her intentions, she was persistent. Despite her unease because she’d lost sight of me, she kept her composure and continued scanning the ground for clues to my passage. If she was skilled enough to find them, she’d soon discover that my steps began to circle—and the moment she understood that, my current advantage would be lost.

I sank into a squat while I assessed our surroundings for the best place to capture her, and remove any weapon she might be carrying.

She might be admirably silent, but I was a Furyknight. One of the men chosen by dragons, and trained in battle. Seven years so far, I’d been honed for war. And more. I wasn’t just any Furyknight. I was Shadowfang. Trained for stealth and subterfuge. A spy. And far stronger, and more experienced in this game than she could possibly be.

‘Forewarned, you mean,’ Kham, my dragon, suggested smugly through the link.