I shook my head, I had to focus. I was sitting with Roman now on top of the wagon with the driver. “We’ll reach Kadaar by this evening,” he said. “We’ve made good time, the winds have been fortunate this trip.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything. It was alwayssomethingout here in the Warlands.
Roman clapped a hand on my back. “Your father was very proud of you back there.”
I snorted.
“That was one hell of a throw,” hesaid.
“You saw?”
Roman nodded.
“Even I saw,” the coach driver said, wiping spittle from his mouth. “Whole bloody village saw it. Bloody Siren Singer up there on the rock, crooning away and keeping us all from shifting. Ugly things. But then you run and bloody jump and—and well I dunno—next thing a damn tree is sticking through it’s bloody chest and buried in the wall!”
Roman laughed and clapped the driver’s back too. We’d traveled with Coln over the Warlands plenty of times. He was another person that knew a half truth of my identity. To him I was one mean shifter, an alpha if I had a pack, but he didn’t realize the whole extent of it.
“Bet you’d give that Marcus a run for his money with the Whiteclaws, eh?” he nudged Roman. “Your brother should be worried.”
“Oh he is,” he said, winking at me.
I colored, wondering if the girls could hear below. It was enough having rejected a fated mate and then having to travel with her, but having others brag about my exploits wouldn’t exactly help anything move on.
But I don’t want it to move on.My wolf crooned and an involuntary feeling spread out, reaching for the girl.
I didn’t say anything more, letting Roman chat with Coln. The two could go on forever, I’d spent enough wagon rides with them to know. They spoke of any and everything, from the exciting to the mundane. When I asked Roman about it, he said that more was gained in trade, than silence.
I suppose I agreed, but I was just being moody.
I was embarrassed about the rejection to Feyra, angry that I still couldn't reveal myself after saving a whole village, and bothered by the heat. But more than that, now that I’d seen Feyra’s body shrouded by the wet clothing, I couldn’t stop seeing it.
She followed me everywhere. I’d had to get out of the wagon to stop staring, stop fantasizing. I couldn’t take her shape from my eyes. I wanted to watch her, to take all of her in. It may be that she was a fated mate in more ways than one, she was a part of my prophecy now.
The town of Kadaar rolled up on the horizon and Coln tapped the roof. He opened a small hatch and chatter from the three women ceased. “Kadaar coming up ladies. Within the hour.”
The talking returned as the trap snapped shut and Coln saw me watching. “Not to worry Dion, ladies’ve always looked at you that way.” He cracked up laughing and whipped the horses to go a bit faster.
I colored and just focused on the fact that I’d have a bit of time away from the women in the town when I returned the Sleep Singer girl. I could clear my head.
We rolled through the gates of Kadaar at the end of day. It had been a hot two days and the first thing Coln did was take his horses to the communal well. They drank deep and I helped him to wash them down. Others were doing the same.
Roman helped the girls with their things and played the guide for them. I could hear his well rehearsed speech in my head,The square of Kadaar is surrounded by bars and rooms to rent. Mostly a transient city, Kadaar is a pit stop to gather supplies before heading further into the Warlands…They weren’t listening though. They were all giggling and constantly whispering, and I cursed myself again for having lost my shirt in the battle. All I had was my robe and it’d been too hot on the roof to wear it. I wrapped it tightly around my body and the girls laughed again.
Having helped Coln, I headed back to them. I avoided Feyra’s eyes at all costs, even though I wanted to stare at her forever, and began what I needed to do now—return the Sleep Singer.
“You ready?” I asked. She nodded; all she had was herself. “Good, are you in the camp at the end of the village?” She nodded again. I smiled. “Then let’s go.”
She followed me out of the square and we crossed into the few roads that ran back through the supply merchants and sellers. “I can head home by myself from here,” she said. “You don’t need to–”
I shook my head. “I know you can, but I wanted to speak with your parents. There are things that need discussing.” She looked at me in confusion, then shrugged, leading me on.
The girl came from the roaming clans that were already in the Warlands before the wolves had been banished there. They were magical people with varying abilities. I’d seen Sleep Singers many times before, some of them even as assassins, but most were nice people. It was primarily women who carried the singing ability, and men who carried the ability for foresight.
What I’d come to think though was that the technique of sleep singing was similar to the Siren Singers, they hummed a melody in the spiritual plain that could affect everyone. But seeing both the girl and monster from Lady Skol side by side had given me an idea.
She took me to the largest of the tents currently pitched. She was a Chieftain’s daughter, that might complicate things. And seeing that it had been damaged recently by Locke’s men, the guards were understandably apprehensive as we approached.
“I apologize for my brethren doing this,” I said.
