Page 31

“Hello, Amethyst,” the new man said in that roughly hewn timbre.

I carefully twisted my head just enough I could see his face. His hair was a stunning red just like Lillian’s, though his eyes were the dark green of a forest in high summer. His ears were even longer and more pointed than Lillian’s had been, reaching all the way to the back of his head. He gave me a small smile when he realized I was focusing on him.

“My name is Reuben. Your head had a pretty awful wound, but I’ve gotten the worst of it mended. Is your sickness better? Or do you still have pain in your temples?”

I swallowed again, and a rag wiped down my neck. The sky still felt too bright, and I wanted to just sleep for hours, but the pain was gone.

“N-no, I don’t have pain,” I managed to say. My body still shook like an addict in withdrawal, my teeth clattering with the force of it. “It’s bright, and I’m t-tired.”

Reuben nodded then looked toward one of the guards still surrounding us. “Let’s get her to my tent so I can work on her leg. It’s going to take me a while to get it stable.”

Everyone pulled back from me, the cloths falling away. One of the guards approached, but Callum growled, his head whipping toward the newcomer—who stopped approaching at once, his hands up in appeasement. Reuben grunted.

“All right, Callum. Let’s get her moved, and then you need to get cleaned up, too.”

Callum moved at once, one arm cradling both my knees and the other a warm band across my back. The jostling sent a bolt of white-hot pain up my leg, and I cried out again, a scream-sob that hurt my own ears.

“Sorry,” Callum whispered. “Just another couple minutes, and Reuben can have it on the mend. I didn’t realize your head had been injured, too.”

Even though my head didn’t hurt anymore, my body burned with pain, my hip screaming with each movement of Callum’s long strides. I let my head rest against his chest, struggling to keep awake at this point. The tents here were larger than the ones where Sloane and I had slept last night, most nearly as tall as I was even if their footprints were still utilitarian-leaning. The one Callum walked into was easily double the size, arranged nearly the same as the one I’d shared with Sloane: a small cot along the right wall while a larger one nestled against the left. Nearly three feet lay between the two. An antique English-style trunk took up the remaining space along the back wall, the lid open and items strewn about.

As Callum laid me on the larger of the cots, several glass jars I hadn’t noticed strategically placed along the floor burst into light, small flames suddenly inside them. I jerked at the unexpected change, and Callum growled something in those long syllables. Reuben raised an eyebrow, an unimpressed and dry look pointed at the man who’d picked me. Before either of them could say anything, the three women from before quietly stepped into the tent, taking up pretty much all of the remaining space. A fourth I hadn’t seen yet joined them, a black circlet like Callum’s against her forehead, the stone a deep black at the center of the twisting metal. Her mousy-brown hair was pulled into a similar low ponytail as the blonde woman, her amber eyes full of concern.

The original women were making impressive work of the dress that was now mostly tattered, pulling it off my torso and running new cloths down my chest without a flicker of emotion at all. I couldn’t manage to muster any kind of shyness over being half-naked in front of strangers, though I was sure I’d regret it all when I could think straight again. The first woman I’d noticed with the pretty curls smiled as our eyes met again. I still didn’t manage any kind of response that was appropriate. I let my eyes flutter closed instead, trying to ignore the way my body still shook.

“Your Highness.” The reedy voice was back.

Even with my eyes closed, I felt Callum stiffen.

“Hold on, Simeon.” It was a voice I hadn’t heard yet. “Reuben, should I set a warming enchantment? Or will extra fire jars be preferred?”

“An extra would be good, and the warming enchantment as well if you’re able.” Reuben’s response came from near my head. There was the sound of items being moved and then a heavy lid being shut. I jumped, and Callum growled again.

“Can I sleep?” I asked, my speech slurring. “Did that spell do this to my sister, too?”

The entire tent quieted for a long time, long enough I was half-convinced I actually did sleep for a bit. A hand slipped into mine and squeezed it. I wasn’t sure if it was to reassure me or them. Most of me wanted to pull away from the touch and hiss in warning, but enough of my brain was too tired to try.

“Transportation is a finicky bit of magic,” Reuben said. “But unless she was also injured, it should not have affected her adversely. You can sleep if you like.”

There was a lot of fabric rustling, and then someone touched my ruined leg. For an endless, agonizing minute, I screamed myself hoarse. And then I finally dropped into the black sea of unconsciousness.

11

CALLUM

The urge to rip Reuben apart with my bare hands as her scream cut off and her body went limp barreled through me, so fast and strong it was disorienting. I shook with the restraint it required to keep it at bay. I needed to draw away from her, adjust where I stood so he had better access to her shattered leg, but I couldn’t make myself move. I wanted to lay over the top of her, keep her hidden from all of my peoples’ wandering eyes, regardless if they were helping her right now.

Emma and Amaria both continued to bathe her with rags, getting the mud and blood and sickness off of her, though I didn’t dare look below her collarbones to confirm they were nearly finished. Shelby ran a brush through her hair, carefully untangling the long strands before starting two simple braids. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Phoebe still poised at the entrance of Reuben’s tent, keeping anyone else from entering, including her husband. Someone handed her one of the large fire jars, the flame already burning brightly, and then the flaps dropped closed again.

“She joined with her sister?” Shelby asked without stopping her work on my omega’s hair, her fingers flashing in the firelight. “That hasn’t happened in a long time. How lucky that we get to be part of it.”

Siblings entering the Rite was intentionally rare. They had to touch the ticket—the item that allowed them to participate—at the same time. The omegas who touched a ticket and chose to participate were tasked with a foundational shift in their entire life. And yet, if they came with another, if a single ticket brought two omegas, they were expected to maintain as much contact as feasibly possible. Freia intended for them, together, to bring great change in the new relationships formed through the Rite. Which meant we needed to find her sister and sort through reuniting them within the diplomatic limitations between my own kingdom and that of whoever selected her.

“It is.” Amaria murmured a soft agreement, rinsing her rag again, wringing with gentle precision. “She has a translation tattoo. I wonder if she comes from the Far Lands? Would your father perhaps know her people?”

“I’m not sure,” Shelby said. “Father’s been gone from his home kingdom for many years, and we haven’t spoken to much of his family in several months. They were planning on traveling during the summer after the worst of the ocean storms pass, so we could perhaps see about something then.”

Their excited chatter helped settle some of my frayed nerves, allowing me to resist the feral urges that had dug their roots deeper into me than the ludian trees I’d spent the morning walking through. Finally, I managed to close my eyes. My hands ceased their shaking soon after.