My fingers tighten around the reins. Thank the gods, Maia came when I sent for her. Her brother, Theon, is my best friend, and they live in the Crystal District near the Rose Palace. The proximity allows their father, Samir Villeneuve, to be at the king’s beck and call. He is the Hand of the King, and he works closely with my father. As such, Theon, Maia, and I grew up together.
I wasn’t lying when I told Wren I thought the twins would be safer with Maia. The king is as intelligent as he is wicked, but he won’t think to look for the twins so close to home.
Wren’s sisters were weeping when they left, an understandable reaction. My heart ached at the knowledge that I was forcing the siblings apart after they’d just reunited, but it had to be done. There was no way all four of us could get away from Rosebridge without being caught, especially at the speed we need to move at to avoid the king.
Still, the girls’ tears ripped something open inside me, a wound I hadn’t known existed.
Their reaction was nothing compared to Wren’s, though. Something in the gods-blessed seemed to break when the twins left, and her anguish was a dagger, stabbing me repeatedly in the heart. Every time she sobbed, I broke a little further.
Wren had struggled when I carried her to Chaos, the black gelding Maia brought for me.
I can’t ride, she had whispered despondently as I lifted her onto the horse.This won’t work.
But her complaints had dried up when I swung into the saddle behind her. She hadn’t spoken when I draped a heavy black cloak over her shoulders to ward off the night’s chill, and even when I’d picked up Chaos’s reins and murmured to him, she’d remained silent.
A stupor overtook Wren when we left Rosebridge behind. Away from her sisters, and with any luck, the king. Mist had run alongside us for a while, but she disappeared into the forest a few hours ago, returning from her hunt not long ago.
The suns will rise soon, and Wren still hasn’t said anything. My throat is dry and scratchy, and hers must be, too. It’s the thought of her thirst, not mine, that has me reaching into the saddlebags behind me.
My arm twinges. The low, pulsing pain that has been present since we left the tunnels has been an annoyance, but I’ve been shoving thoughts of it aside. I’ve had plenty of injuries in my life, and this is little more than a scrape.
Besides, I’m far more worried about the gods-blessed—which is perplexing, to say the least. It feels almost natural to think about Wren’s needs alongside of my own. It’s an odd feeling, after being on my own for so long.
Unhooking the water canteen that Maia thoughtfully included in our supplies, I unscrew the cap with my teeth. I’m thirsty, but I hold the vessel in front of me, offering it to Wren first. She needs it more.
She shakes her head, but I won’t give up that easily.
“You need to drink, little bird.”
A heavy beat of silence passes, and for a moment, I think she’s going to refuse again. Then, a full body sigh rolls through her, and she takes the canteen. Her fingertips brush mine, and a wave of heat crashes through my veins.
What was that?
Wren drinks slowly before wordlessly returning the container. I take a swig and replace the lid, sliding it back into the saddlebag.
We keep riding.
Chaos, aptly named for both his temperament (irascible on the best of days) and his tendency to cause mischief among the Hand’s other horses, belongs to Theon. Maia took a risk in bringing me her brother’s horse since the gelding doesn’t like most people, but I’m glad she chose him.
Not only is Chaos one of the fastest horses in the Kingdom of Myreth, but I’m very familiar with him. Theon acquired the steed a decade ago, and he spent countless hours working with him. Whenever I was in the capital between hunts, I joined my friend.
The comfort of riding a familiar horse cannot be understated, especially when I’m dealing with Wren and this mysterious pull between us. Adding an unfamiliar mount to the mix would’ve made things even trickier. Thatdrawinside me seems pleasedby Wren’s nearness, pulsing steadily next to my bond with Mist even though the gods-blessed remains taciturn.
At first, her behavior made sense. She was upset about leaving her sisters, as anyone would be. But when time trickled on without a sign of her fire, I started getting worried. Now, that worry has grown teeth. It’s gnawing at my insides, devouring me from the inside out.
Esyn fucking help me, but I never thought I’d miss the sound of another person’s voice, especially not one from a person I’d been hunting. But here we are. I want Wren to speak and tell me how she’s feeling. For the gods’ sakes, I’d even take her cursing at me over the unnerving silence.
I’m used to her fighting me every step of the way and pushing back, not being like this. Rigid. Silent. Barely there.
I tighten my hold around her middle, and warmth floods my chest. I glance to my right, where Mist silently bounds out of the forest, shining silver eyes meeting mine.
“We’ll be stopping to rest soon,” I say, the words as much for Wren as they are for my familiar.
My bond with Mist thrums, and my chest loosens. It’s easier to breathe with my panther by my side. Now, there are two of us looking out for the king’s soldiers and other riders. Two sets of eyes, alert and searching for trouble.
I’ve already directed Chaos into the nearby forest three times tonight as other late-night riders passed us. The Broken Road is busy, and it’ll become congested once the suns rise.
We need to be gone by then.
