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Amethyst’s gaze whipped to me, her eyes wide as she sucked in a startled breath. Her hand trembled where it rested on Elyssian’s shoulder. The faint sunlight working through the heavy clouds set her alabaster skin glowing, the blue tint of her veins not quite as noticeable as yesterday.

“Wh-what?” she asked.

“Does your head hurt?” I repeated my question in Alwesh.

The corners of her mouth tightened.

“A little,” she admitted.

I looked over Elyssian to where Tegan stood, ready to take the horse in hand for the lunch break. He nodded once and then disappeared into the group just off the path coalescing around a temporary fire.

When I returned my focus to Amethyst, she was tracing the silver stitching around the button holding her cloak in place. I held my arm out for her. She stared at my offered palm for a long minute, her brows furrowing. This time, at least, she didn’t seem as concerned that I would hurt her. Perhaps this was not a common practice in her culture? If it was something she wasn’t comfortable with, I would give her that space. No resistance or request passed her lips, though.

Slowly, she set her palm against mine. The small touch was enough to have my knees weakening. I wanted to pull her against me, hold her to my body until that wariness bled away from her and she trusted that I would not harm her. The desire to protect her, covet her, roared up in me so fast, it stole my breath. My scent lashed out from me, the pine and wisteria equally strong.

Almost involuntarily, she took a hesitant step closer, her cheeks slowly gaining the same faint pink flush as her lips. Her left leg buckled under her weight, and she sucked in a gasp of pain. I closed the small distance between us, wrapping my arm around her waist and taking her weight. My hair whipped in a sudden small breeze, lifting off my neck. Amethyst’s magic crackled along my skin, eerily similar to the earth’s searching tendrils along the Passage. Elyssian pawed the snowy trail, shaking her head.

Tegan grunted, pausing his approach with Reuben.

“It’s all right,” I murmured in Alwesh, filling the words with as much of that innate soothing I’d seen so many other alphas use as I could manage. “I’m just making sure you don’t injure your ankle a second time. I don’t want you in pain.”

The scent of stale oranges rose around us, communicating her fear more effectively than any words could, and I had to swallow a protective growl. That certainly wouldn’t convince her she was safe.

Reuben edged around Elyssian, unbothered by the physical effects of Amethyst’s magic slipping. He’d seen my own do so enough times to have lost count. The addition of his presence seemed to be enough to calm her sufficiently. The peculiar sensation of her magic along my skin slowly faded until it fell away altogether, leaving only goosebumps in its wake. My hair settled back around my shoulders, and the horse calmed behind her.

“You’re in pain?” Reuben asked once I’d dropped my arm from her waist and gave her a few inches of space. She left her palm against mine, and the choice warmed me immensely. I wanted to lace my fingers with hers, but I resisted the urge. There was no reason to push her comfortability with physical contact.

Her gaze flipped between Reuben and me, her eyebrows furrowing again.

“There is no wrong answer,” I said because it was clear she wanted reassurance. “If you’re hurting, we want to make it better.”

Her throat rippled as she swallowed heavily. “Yes, my leg hurts. More than just my ankle. And there’s a pain in my head.” She touched the back of her head, very near the translation tattoo.

Reuben took a step closer and then ran his hand along the back of her head, his eyes brightening. She hissed, her body locking, and then the reaction fell away.

“Better?” Reuben asked.

Amethyst only nodded once. The color had drained away from her cheeks, and I wanted to snarl at Reuben for hurting her, however necessary the temporary discomfort.

“Let’s eat,” I said instead. I didn’t quite keep the growl out of the words, though.

Reuben only lifted an eyebrow before nodding. “Some pricking pain in your leg may be nothing to worry over, just the repairs settling, but I’ll evaluate your leg again tonight. For now, let’s eat and prepare for the rest of today’s ride.”

I let Amethyst pick her way to the small fire and didn’t protest when she sat beside Joseph after a furtive glance toward me. He put her at ease, it seemed, similar to Shelby and Amaria. He was the only one that didn’t hold any misgivings toward her magic surfacing, either, even if the others were attempting to be subtle in their trepidation. With Simeon gone, no one here would dare say a word about me eschewing the possessive isolation alphas often displayed in the days immediately following the Rite. The travel made it less obvious, perhaps, but it was still present.

Hugh’s eyes narrowed as Joseph turned toward Amethyst with a wide smile and looped his fingers around her wrist in greeting. Her gaze flashed to me, and I made sure my expression was loose and open. Some of the tension in her shoulders lessened. As Joseph asked her a quiet question about the simple styling Shelby had done with her hair, I gathered some of the travel rations and handed them to her. This time, her hands didn’t shake at all.

17

AMETHYST

The travel was miserable. If I thought the first day was rough, it had nothing on the days that followed. It somehow managed to get even colder, though the snow Vincent had mentioned hadn’t come yet. On the second day, we were confronted with mountains that rivaled the Swiss Alps in both their breathtaking beauty and their difficulty to traverse. The group condensed, horses walking in pairs rather than in groups of four or five. On some of the switchbacks that snaked up and around the mountains, we had to get even closer, and my arm would brush Callum’s. By the morning of the third day, I was ready to offer every piece of metal in my hair—silver had to be worth something, right?—to never see another horse saddle or travel tent again.

The sun was hidden behind a heavy blanket of clouds that hung so low it felt like I might be able to touch them. We’d been traveling for hours, the group insisting we start shortly after dawn. Those that had wanted to split from the group and go through the other pass were firm on not wasting any time if possible.

A large snowflake caught on my eyelash, and I blinked it away.

The snow had shown up like promised. It had been falling in large, wet clumps for the better part of an hour now. A breeze kicked up, blowing the snow. A few of the guardsmen that rode at the very front of the group waved their hands. The snow split in front of them, leaving a small window of visibility.