She was on the taller side of average—didn’t have much muscle on her and Cedric still towered over her in height—but he knew better than to judge a fae’s fighting ability by their natural slightness. They had magic on their side, after all. And even if she didn’t know a pommel from a blade point, he knew with a sudden, powerful conviction that bit into every fiber of his being that it would be incredibly foolish to underestimate her.
There was something about her. Something . . . else there. Something dark, unnerving.
She darted her head from side to side, continuing to search with a petulant look on her face—softer and more delicate than he’d thought fae typically looked. Wide high-set cheekbones. A sharp jaw that tapered into a soft point. Were those her true features? Or had she done something to her face? Magically made herself look more beautiful in the hopes that she would be mistaken for a less competent challenger?
Irritation sizzled in Cedric’s chest at the thought.
“Excuseme,” he snapped, surprising himself with the uncharacteristic brusqueness of his tone as he shoved past her.
Mere moments had passed since she’d nearly ran him down in her hasty pursuit of, well, whatever she was in pursuit of. But the boorish woman clearly had no qualms about her behavior. She barely seemed to register he was there.
Typical fae.
Almond-shaped eyes the color of shining emeralds met Cedric’s for a split second. She cocked her head. Ran that jeweled gaze up and down his armor. “You’re excused.”
Then her eyes flashed, locking onto something behind his head.
Cedric bristled, but before he could even muster the beginnings of a retort, she shouted something unintelligible and took off. She wove through the crowd, chasing a glimmer of moonlit silver thatdisappeared beyond the castle steps.
It was only after she was gone that Cedric realized the wide-eyed gaze of the two girls he’d thought were whispering about him had followed her. A crease appeared between his brows as he strained to hear their hushed exchange. He could make out only one word.
“Revenant.”
10
TYPICAL HUMAN
ELYRIA
Two days.
Two fucking days in this stars-forsaken camp, dodging rumors and whispers. The bolder travelers approached her to ask for training tips, begged for a showcase of her magic. Elyria was no stranger to the attention, but she missed the usual endless supply of drink that helped her cope.
Worst of all, Elyria had barely spoken to Kit. Any conversations she began were quickly interrupted, and Kit had taken it upon herself to fulfill every request Elyria denied. It was all,“I’ll train with you!”and,“I’m not a wildshaper, but I can show you how I craft a whip from water.”Oh, and,“Do I have any stories about the Revenant? Do I ever.”Meaning not only did Elyria’s past continue to haunt herpresent, but any hopes Elyria had of persuading Kit not to take on the Crucible were dying. Being slowly suffocated by Kit’s incessant, irritating, and wholly unnecessary congeniality.
Elyria might have been impressed at the way Kit wielded her social graces to evade her attempts to talk, had the circumstances been different.
Had she not been running out of time.
When the aurora vanished overhead, Elyria’s heart started beating so loudly and erratically that she wondered if it would burst from her chest. The reality of the situation sank in as she chased after Kit.
She wasjusthere. Elyriajustsaw her. She’d rushed forward in an attempt to catch up with her but lost her just as quickly. “Fuck,” she said under her breath.
Elyria felt the back of her neck prickle, the weight of judgmental eyes washing over her. She scanned the crowd of travelers making their way toward the castle, half searching for Kit and half trying to determine the source of the daggers she felt currently being stared into her back.
She turned her head a fraction, her eyes darting to a hulking human standing a few paces behind her. She observed him in pieces, trying not to draw attention by staring. Brown hair, tan skin, square jaw. Gleaming armor—a knight. And yes, that was a look of pure, unfiltered contempt on his face.
Elyria sighed, sending a silent curse up to whatever celestial had decided her personal torment was their favorite kind of entertainment. It was moments like this that made her doubt how steadfast the immortal beings were in keeping their vow not to interfere with mortal affairs.
“Excuseme,” the knight said, the scent of sandalwood and something else—something smoky, like burning embers—assaulting her senses as he lumbered past her.Shoulderedpast, really, as ifshehad been the one doing something wrong. Did he think she hadn’t been able to feel the way his eyes burned into her? The judgment oozing from him, despite the fact that they hadn’t exchanged a single word?
Her face felt hot thinking about it. As if this entire misguided mission hadn’t been disappointing enough, thismanhad the gall to charge past her as ifshewere inhisway?
Elyria didn’t have much experience with humans, not since the war.But she suspected this was typical behavior.
She met the knight’s eyes—warm brown with a thin ring of gold encircling his iris.
“You’re excused,” she said coolly, inwardly grinning at the way his body immediately tensed. She hadn’t thought it possible for him to wind himself any tighter.
