Chapter 24
Rowan
walk through the woods toward the sound of whimpers. It’s night and
I’m barefoot. I don’t know why I left my bed in answer to a phantom
pull, but I always do. The pull is familiar. It has always been familiar,
even that first time. But now I know how this ends, and I shout to myself to
stop. To go back. To run home. But my feet won’t listen and the dream me
hurries toward the woods, just like when it was real.
Sometimes, I see the scene through my own eyes, other times I’m an
observer, watching from above as my sixteen year old self walks naively to
the forest’s edge, and then beyond. This night’s dream is one of the former.
I’m near Mystwood, the forest separating the human lands from Lunos,
the fae’s immortal realm. This outpost is my mother’s latest duty station.
She’s busy, doing her best to keep Eryndor safe. Don’t go into the woods is
an iron clad rule around here. But I’m going to break it tonight, just like I
did then. I can’t change the dream no matter how many times I’ve tried.
I step into Mystwood. There is a full moon overhead, illuminating some
of the path.
I find him where I always do. Golden eyes that sparkle in the moonlight,
the scent of blood that matts his fur.
Run, the adult me shouts to my younger self. But, like always, the me in
the dream doesn’t answer. Why should she? There had been no one to shout
back then. There had just been an irresistible pull.
I crouch beside the wolf. It’s large and injured. My magic rallies the few
slivers of healing magic that run in my veins. My brain shouts warning after
warning at me. Even back then I knew that Mystwood was dangerous, that
the wolf might be fae. But I don’t listen. Not now, not back then. All I see is
a wolf, hurt and scared, his fur matted with blood and little whimpers
escaping his throat. I can’t stand by and do nothing.
“Hey, boy,” I say soothingly. I know he is male. “I’m here to help,
alright? Can you let me help?”
I advance the last few steps toward him slowly, careful not to startle
him. Magic tingles at my fingertips. Maybe if I can take the edge off his
pain, he will let me—
The pitiful little whimpers morph suddenly into a growl so powerful
that it fills the whole forest with menace. I freeze with terror. The wolf
lunges, its open maw filled with sharp teeth and glistening with dripping
saliva. I’m frozen with terror. Bloody, strong paws crash into my chest and
sharp teeth maul my face. I fall. Pain explodes along my chin and cheek.
Pain and blood and terror. I scramble up and turn and run, run, run –
“Rowan,” Kyrian’s urgent voice cuts through the nightmare, yanking me
back to reality. My eyes fly open and I gasp for breath, heart pounding
wildly in my chest. The dark shadows of the forest dissolve, replaced by the
longer ones of the stone walls that form our refuge. The small fire crackles
close by, merrily unaware of the terror still coursing through me. “You are
alright,” Kyrian promises, drawing me against him. “I’ve got ye. I’ve got
ye.”
I bury my face against his bare chest, breathing in his comforting, crisp
mountain scent. The heat of his skin and steady thrum of his heartbeat
gradually slow my own racing pulse.
Pulling up my head, I look toward the forest, which can be seen on the
far side of our shelter, where a chunk of the wall is missing.
A pair of glowing golden eyes blink at me.
I gasp, digging my nails into Kyrian’s muscle. “Here,” I croak in rising
panic. “It’s here.”
Faster than I can follow, Kyrian is on his feet, naked and weapon in
hand. Keeping his body between me and the exit he moves forward on
silent feet. My breath halts as he steps outside, and doesn’t restart until he’s
back a few moments later, his body relaxed.
“There’s no one there,” he says with no hint of reproach. Tossing his
sword aside, he returns to our bedroll and sits beside me, carefully tucking a
strand of hair behind my ear. “Do you want to tell me what you thought you
saw?”
“A wolf. And I didn’t think I saw it, I…” I look back out toward where I
know those golden eyes had blinked at me from the morning mist, but
nothing is there. “It’s gone now.”
“Alright,” Kyrian agrees without argument. “It probably left when it
realized we weren’t small prey. It’s not going to come inside at any rate. I
promise I won’t let it.”
He sounds so sure of himself that it’s hard not to believe him, even
though I’d have sounded just as certain that I’d never go into Mystwood
barefoot in the middle of the night.
“Do you want to tell me?” Kyrian asks. “About the nightmare?”
“No.” I wait for him to press, but he doesn’t. As if he knows that if I
start talking about it, I’ll break into a million pieces. I don’t understand how
someone as powerful as Kyrian can be so careful. Why he’d even want to
bother. I put my hand on his bare chest, the firelight sculpting the roped
muscles of his stomach with warm flickering shadows. “I’m sorry.”
“I think I’ve faced worse trials than taking a peek outside,” Kyrian says
with a small laugh.
“I’m sorry for being such a mess, I mean. I know that if not for me, you
could have had this whole assignment done in half the time. Instead you are
stuck—”
“Stop.” Kyrian puts a finger to my lips, halting my rambling apology.
“Aye, I could do this faster alone—but what exactly would be the point
then? It would be like fighting for the sake of fighting. Protecting ye, chaos,
isn’t some extra chore, it’s my whole reason for being here. Don’t you see?
You’re an honor, not a burden.”
“I don’t think Logan would agree with you,” I point out. “Or are we still
pretending he took off because he thought scouting ahead was the
responsible choice?”
“I lack the imagination to envision Logan making responsible choices.
What I’m quite certain of though, is that his departure had everything to do
with his own demons and not yours.”
“And that’s why Kai ran off after kissing me in the workshop too?”
Kyrian winces. “My friends are arseholes.”
“And you?” I whisper.
“Am I an arsehole?”
“Are you going to run off? Because if you are, please just tell me. I
can’t go to sleep wondering if you are going to be here when I wake up in
the morning… Or… or whether each time you touch me might be the last
because you’ll get some epiphany and decide that there are better honors or
causes out there and -”
Kyrian’s large hands cup my face, his calloused thumbs stroking my
cheekbones with exquisite tenderness as his azure eyes bore into mine.
“Look at me, lass,” he orders softly, his song-like accent thicker than usual.
“I’m right here with ye. I’m not going anywhere, not unless ye tell me to
leave ye the hell alone. Maybe not even then. But I know asking ye to trust
me on that isn’t something I’ve earned, so I’m not going to do that. I’ll just
prove it to ye. As many times as it takes.”
One of his hands slips around to cup the back of my head, and he dips
down capturing my lips with his own in a slow, tender kiss that steals the
protests still lingering on my tongue.
“You… are… changing the subject,” I gasp out with the small breath I
can steal.
“Aye.” Kyrian deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips,
asking for entrance. I grant it, parting for him, and he delves inside, stroking
and caressing as if the whole world has narrowed to nothing but this one
connection. “In my defense, I don’t believe words will do much good just
now,” he whispers against me.
A small moan escapes me and I press closer, tangling my fingers in his
tousled hair. “Cheater.”
“Hmm.” He makes a noise with the back of his throat, and delves right
back in as my body melts against his.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, he rests his forehead
against mine, his eyes still closed and his breath mingling with my own. I
slide my hand down to where I feel his need, hard and pulsing against me,
but Kyrian captures my wrist with a gentle hold. “No,” he whispers. “No
more games. The next time I’m inside you, I want it to be because you want
me there. All of me, not just my cock. When you trust me enough to want
me.”
Before I can protest, he tucks me against his broad chest and nestles us
back under the covers. I can feel every hard plane and ridge of his warrior’s
body against my soft curves, his warmth and scent enveloping me like a
cocoon as I drift back to sleep.
In the morning, the weather is infuriatingly calm, as if trying to
convince us that last night’s storm never happened. Kyrian walks out of the
shelter only to return minutes later with a pair of rabbits.
My stomach rumbles, but I narrow my gaze at the warrior. “That was
absurdly fast.”
“That’s because they were there already,” he says wearily. I can hear the
unspoken message—our breakfast is Logan’s doing—but don’t press when
Kyrian offers no explanation. While Kyrian cooks the meat, I dig out the
powders I’d forgotten to take last night, and quickly mix my medicine.
“It helps keep my dizzy spells down,” I explain to Kyrian when he
raises a questioning brow, and gladly chase the bitter brew with a slice of
fatty meat that he offers, taking it into my mouth right from his finger.
“You need to eat more,” Kyrian says, holding out a whole rabbit leg. He
watches to ensure I eat the whole thing, then hands me another before
taking a piece for himself. I try to argue but he shakes his head at me.
“Of all battles, is this really the one you want to pick?” He asks.
“When you put it that way -”
“Good. Then eat.”
Dry, rested and fed we make good time toward the second waypoint,
which requires climbing a path not even mountain goats would find
amusing. The only reason I make it to dinnertime without a broken neck is
because Kyrian ties me to him with a length of rope and proves able to
anchor himself to sheer stone whenever I slip and dangle over one abyss or
another.
“Not much farther now,” Kyrian says, pulling me onto a narrow ledge
before studying the next section of the climb. We are so high, that wispy
clouds that usually drift lazily overhead, are not that much overhead
anymore. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to reach out and touch one
sometime soon. “The first two waypoints are gimmies. We’ll have to work
for the third one though.”
I stare at the back of his head wondering if he even hears himself. I’ve
brushed death more times in the last two days than I have in the last two
decades. And this is the easy part?
I suppose I should be grateful for Eryndor’s geography, since without it
the draken would have destroyed us long ago. Between our high altitude
forcing the beasts to stay in the lower, thicker air, and the perilous up and
downdrafts created by the ancient forests and cliffs, we are utterly hostile to
the flying creatures. And not much more hospitable to the two legged
walking ones who ride them.
“Did you have any say in our waypoint assignments?” I ask Kyrian.
“Aye.” He offers me his canteen, his attention still on the mountain.
Crags and crevices scar the cliff we are scaling and promise bone-shattering
ends to anyone who dares disrespect them.
I make the error of looking down and instantly regret it. The sheer drop
seems to pull at me, making my head spin. I press myself back against the
solid stone behind me, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“You had a choice of which waypoints our squad was assigned, and the
ones we now have the personal pleasure of visiting?” I clarify, trying hard
to keep the tremble out of my voice and focus on the conversation.
“Aye. One of the few privileges of being in charge.”
“Then for the love of gods, did you purposely pick the ones most likely
to kill us, or is this a happy coincidence?”
Kyrian turns back toward me, genuine confusion on his too beautiful
face. “Of course I picked these perils on purpose,” he says as if the answer
is obvious. “I do know how to read a map. Why would you think
otherwise?”
“Because for a moment there I thought you were sane,” I press the back
of my head against the stone rising at my back. “My mistake.”
Kyrian tisks and checks the makeshift harness he’s made for me from
the rope. “I chose to pit us against nature to minimize the chances of pitting
us against enraged civilians. Unless you were looking forward to killing the
very people you were running a secret clinic to help?”
Oh.
I’m still mulling over Kyrian’s foresight when we crest a final ridge and
emerge onto a small plateau nestled amongst the craggy peaks. And there,
perched on a boulder at the far edge of the summit is the damn metal box
we’ve just risked our lives to reach. I hope the thing appreciates our effort.
The rope between us pulls taut as Kyrian strides forward, his long legs
eating up the distance while I stumble after him shakily, my muscles
burning from the grueling climb.
“Can you wait -” my words die in my throat as I finally raise my head
high enough to take in what Kyrian has already marked. It’s not just the box
that’s waiting for us here, it’s also Logan and Kai.
And they look anything but at ease.
