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“If Bash told them it would be me, she was coming either way. To kill me for the moments I’d stolen with Laramie or to share in her grief. Mourning someone is really fucking lonely, Marley.”
His words seeped over me as I thought of my brother. And then my parents. I’d felt that loneliness and the guilt, but I’d never gone back to share the grief. Maybe it was time. Maybe.
16
The ride to the Moss Coven seemed as long as the whole first leg of the trip. After stopping to meet the shifters at the base of the shifter’s summit to grab provisions, I could tell the journey was weighing on both of us more than we’d ever expected.
This would have been difficult for Atlas, even if he wasn’t traveling the covens while at the mercy of the Spirits’ power. But Future was coming, and that would be the end of all of this. Because as much as I’d witnessed the goodness of Atlas’ heart, that deep dark part that damned him hadn’t wavered an inch.
It took the whole day to travel to the northern tip of the Moss Coven. The dead trees and snow-covered ground hadn’t changed and even though the sun still shone, it was likely as tired as we were and would set soon enough. Winter was always a blanket over our magical realm. We stopped to rest the horses and eat only when our stomachs protested the long stretch of time or my ribs ached for a break.
“Tell me something about your life. What did you do after you left Storm?” Atlas finally asked, cutting into the silence we’d curated as the hours increased our tension and my awareness of this journey’s impending end. “Only if you want to, of course.”
I picked at the frayed edge of the blanket over my lap. “There’s not a lot to say...”
“You were seventeen when that happened?”
“I was.”
“I guess losing our families gives us something in common. Does the magic only come to you before Winter Solstice?”
I nodded.
“So, what do you do for the rest of the year?”
“Avoid people as much as possible. I travel around a lot. I work with a few Whisper Coven witches transporting wine to the other covens. It’s not lucrative, but I eat and usually find shelter.”
He settled in, finally resting against the seatback. “Usually?”
“Well, I’ve been on the run from Levin for five years. It’s harder to hunt someone when you can’t nail them down to one spot. I’m guessing someone from the Storm Coven let him know we were coming to River.”
“That fucking guard.” Atlas clinched a fist around the reins.
“Probably. It’s easy to pay off a starving witch.”
“Things are going to get better for everyone. Trade is a good idea, Frostbite. The covens just have to learn to trust each other again.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We should talk to Bash about it when we get home.”
Home.
The word plummeted in my gut like an anvil. I didn’t have a home. I hadn’t had one for a very long time, and the thought of being tied down to a single place stopped appealing to me the second I was on my own. But sitting next to Atlas, a constant companion these past days, made something in me wonder if my heart was missing out. If I could settle and be happy doing anything but running.
“I’ll think about it.”
“That sounds very uncommital,” he said with a roguish grin.
“That’s not even a word, Wolf.”
“Unspirited?”
“Pretty sure that’s also not a word.”
“It really is. And it’s true.”
Resting in the crook of his arm, I looked at the trees that accompanied us as we made our way through the snow-laden trail. “I never said I was perfect. I have my own demons.”
He pulled the horses to a stop as he turned and placed a finger under my chin to force my gaze to his. “Demons are meant to be slayed.”
“That sounds very committal,” I whispered.
