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Lily sucked in a sharp breath and glanced over her shoulder. “Big ugly bastards covered in ghostsoil?”
“I suppose that’s an accurate description.”
“Are they blind?”
Draven’s gaze fell from the tree to somewhere beside her. “I don’t know.”
“How many are there?”
“Two.”
Lily blew out a breath, and Draven frowned. “They’re challenging,” she said.
“Explain.”
She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Oh, would you prefer ‘master’ then?” She folded her arms. “I’ve come across a few that were still conscious. Some of the wealthy in Reave kept the bulkier ones. They’re strong even after a few months merged with the metal. Once they go blind after a few decades, they’re unreasonable and only respond to their handlers.”
“Handlers?”
“Guardian shards.”
Draven nodded, thoughtfully. “They shouldn’t be too difficult to take care of.”
“Best of luck with that,” Lily mumbled, studying the cluster of trees where the creature had stood.
“Are you speaking to me, or yourself?”
Lily’s muscles strained, and her shoulder fell against the trunk. It shouldn’t be that shocking. “You want me to kill them?”
“It’s not me that does.”
“Kyer, Amalia, whoever!” Sickness surged in her belly, and she resisted the urge to drop to the ground, instead stomping in some random direction. She couldn’t do it all. She wasn’t Keara. She’d never be her, and it wasn’t fair they expected her to be overnight!
Can I get one fucking problem at a time?
“Evelian.” Draven appeared in front of her. “You’re not expected to handle them alone.”
But I should be able to. Lily rubbed heavy fingers over her forehead and down her cheek. “I’m a terrible Wraith.”
Draven rocked one way, then the other. “Almost as bad as I was a Guardian.”
Lily’s fiery temper cooled, and she dropped her hand to attempt a glimpse of the virid god behind his eyes. That’s right. It was easy to forget since it seemed to encompass the entirety of who he was now, but Draven didn’t always have the Serpent. He kept the Guardian for much longer—grew up with it, just like Luka. Was it his circumstances that made him an unfit Imordial, or was it the fact he never should have had it to begin with? Could it be different for Luka if it was whole? At least the Wraith chose her. Would choosing her guarantee she’d be a good Imordial for it?
“What are you… Bloody gods, will you stop that.”
She blinked. “Stop what?”
He gestured to all of her. “That.”
Lily inspected herself as if she could see what was upsetting him. “Sorry. I—”
“Don’t apologize to me.” His eyes tore away as he started in a different direction. “Let’s go. Your feet must be ice.”
Lily wiggled her frozen toes, wavering at the realization her heart still rang heavy with worry, though it wasn’t as loud. Maybe he compelled her? But last time he asked.
