Page 69

An hour after sunset, we had just finished climbing a particularly steep hill, the trees thinning out to make way for a grassy clearing, when Alaric touched my elbow. I stopped and looked at him in confusion.

He pointed ahead, and I followed his gaze, squinting in the darkness. From this high up, we had a perfect view of the moonlit forest, with the Alavern Lake’s watery surface shimmering in the distance.

But just below us, littered among the trees, were hundreds of tiny specks of light. Candles, perhaps? Or lanterns? It was hard to make out in the darkness.

“That’s them,” Alaric said in an undertone. “Reid and I never go farther than this point when we travel.”

I swallowed hard. On the other side of this hill was an entire clan of witches. My people. My kind. I had been a stranger in the shifter lands—a criminal, really. And once I’d been freed, I’d discovered the woman who had raised me was a liar and a murderer.

I belonged nowhere.

But… perhaps I could belong here. Perhaps this could be my new home. I certainly couldn’t return to that cottage alone. And once the investigation was over, Alaric and I would part ways. I wouldn’t need to associate with the Mages any longer.

The thought should have brought me relief, but it only filled me with a strange sense of emptiness.

“I can do this, Alaric,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ve spent my entire life casting spells. I know the runes, the grimoires, the history of the witches. These are my people.” I paused and took a shaky breath. “And if I can speak to them, convince them of my good intentions, then… then perhaps I can earn a place among them. After all this is over.”

Alaric was frowning, golden eyes gleaming in the darkness as he stared at me. “After all this is over?” he repeated.

I exhaled a short, soft laugh. “The investigation can’t last forever. Once we uncover the truth of what my gran did and who she worked with, you’ll go back to your home and I’ll… stay here in the fae lands.”

Alaric blinked slowly at me, then pointed downhill again. “With these witches?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. Seems like a good place to start, right?”

Alaric remained silent, his gaze fixed on the encampment below. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and a muscle flexed in his jaw. He seemed angry, for some reason.

I inwardly flinched, expecting him to start yelling at me again. But when he spoke, his voice was soft.

“You’re right, of course. This won’t last forever, and you’ll need a place to go when this is over.” He nodded stiffly. “Let’s go with your plan.”

I stared at him, stunned. Had I heard him correctly?

When he noticed me gaping, he offered a half-smile. “You were right. I know you can do this.”

I gave him a blank look, waiting for him to take the words back. After all, he thought me to be incompetent. A mess, he’d said.

When he said nothing else, I blinked and nodded. “All right. Good.” I continued walking.

Alaric caught my arm again, stopping me. When I turned to look at him, his face had crumpled, and his eyes shone with sorrow. I had never seen him look so… tortured before.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “For everything I said before. I meant none of it. I let my anger do the talking, and I—I regret it deeply.”

My lips parted in surprise. I was touched by his words, but more than that, I was startled to see so much grief in his expression. He looked considerably pained by this, which made no sense to me. I was nothing and no one to him. He shouldn’t have cared that he’d hurt me.

But he did. For some strange, unfathomable reason, this hardened soldier cared.

“I swear to never put those shadow cuffs on you again,” he continued. “Well, unless you commit a crime.”

I snorted at that.

“But I shouldn’t have threatened you with that,” he said. “I made you a promise to keep you safe, and I nearly broke that promise. I’m sorry.”

Something warm worked its way through my chest, and my throat felt tight with emotion. My eyes burned, and I took several shaky breaths. “Well—um—thank you.”

“You are a capable witch, Cerise. I know you can do this. I’m sorry for implying otherwise.”

A hard lump formed in my throat. Storms, I could barely speak. In a strained voice, I muttered, “I said a lot of things I regret, too.” I felt I should be more specific, but the first thing that came to mind was how my lust-filled brain had wanted me to writhe against him. Sorry for wanting to pin you to a tree and rip your clothes off earlier.