His voice slices through the space with a finality that startles me.
There’s steel in it. Not just indifference, but command. A challenge, almost, and he doesn’t even look at me when he says it. His eyes remain fixed on the distant forest again, as if daring any of them to contest what I’ve chosen.
I blink, a flicker of surprise rising in my chest.
I hadn’t expected him todefendthe choice.
“You don’t even want her with you,” Riven scoffs, stepping forward. “You’ve barely looked at her since she arrived.”
Exactly.
The wraith is quick to respond in a clipped, cold tone. “If she’s with me, I can keep an eye on her.”
Something in the way he says it lodges in my chest and unease skitters down my spine.
His gaze flicks to mine for the briefest breath, a flash of silver through smoke.
Torryn breaks the silence first, dragging a hand through his hair with a weary sigh. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow. Each of us will ask the people we trust aboutWren.”
He says it with emphasis, testing how the name feels in his mouth now that I’ve claimed it.
Sylvin clasps his hands together, his smirk returning like a mask sliding back into place. “Then it’s settled. We’ll meet at first light.”
A muscle feathers in Riven’s jaw and none of them move, despite the plan being firmly apparent.
They all continue to stare at me, as if waiting for something.
“I’ll be fine,” I offer quietly, hoping to lighten the tension and get us all moving along.
“She better be,” Torryn mutters, gaze hard on Azyric now. “Or you’ll be answering to all of us.”
I barely hold back my eyeroll.
Azyric doesn’t answer. He simply tips his chin and grunts.
Sylvin’s gaze shifts to me one last time, and the curve of his mouth turns knowing. “Try not to get killed in the meantime, little echo.”
“It’s Wren,” I mutter again, barely louder than the wind.
I’m not sure he really cares to hear me.
A hush settles between them, a final beat of stillness before movement returns to the world.
Torryn steps back from the group with a low breath, rolling his shoulders once as though shaking off the weight of restraint. Then his body begins to bend and break and reform. His bones stretch, realigning as fur emerges through his skin in waves, and within seconds, the man is gone.
In his place stands a massive, brown wolf.
Golden eyes blink once, the same eyes that studied me just moments before. The scars still cross his snout and lip in the same jagged path. The sheer size of him makes me take a step back, breath caught in my throat.
Then he turns, silent paws pressing into the ashy ground as he trots off toward the dark edge of the woods, blending into the surroundings.
Riven moves next. One moment he’s beside me grabbing my hand and pressing a kiss to the top of it, the next, he’s gone.
It happens so fast I barely register it.
Just a blur of motion and wind stirred in his wake, like the world skipped a second and left nothing but the echo of his passing behind.
Sylvin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before gesturing vaguely at the horizon. “Fine, I’ll walk, like a peasant. What’s thousands of miles?”
