“Annaïs came up.”
Alarik stilled, his jaw tightening. “And?”
“I didn’t get the chance to fully explain,” he admitted, the weight of it settling in his chest. “I wanted to, but she left before I could.”
Alarik exhaled slowly, his voice edged with warning. “Do yourealize what that must sound like to her? She needed to hear the truth, not half of it.”
Frustration twisted in his chest. “I know,” he said, the edge in his voice slipping through before he could stop it. “But all I did was upset her.”
Alarik pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, clearly reining in his temper. “We can’t let this fester. If she thinks she’s standing in Annaïs’s shadow, it’ll eat away at her trust in us. You know that.”
He opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips as a terrified voice pierced the night.
“Help! Kai, Lark! Help!”
They turned around and saw Mei Mei sprinting toward them, face pale and streaked with tears.
“It’s Yara!” Her voice trembled, small hands clutching desperately at their arms. “A sandshrike!” She took a gulp of air. “Inside the wagon! Hurry!”
His stomach dropped.
They tore through the festival, the blur of stalls and shouting vendors vanishing beneath the thunder of their boots. He reached the wagon first, hand locking around the handle. He stilled despite the pounding in his chest, forcing himself to count to three. Panic would only startle the sandshrike.
Carefully, he cracked the door open.
Lantern light flickered across the cramped interior. There—Reiya knelt in front of a thrashing basket, her hands straining to keep it pinned. Sweat slicked her brow, stray curls sticking to her pale face.
He dropped beside her, eyes scanning her face, her neck, her hands. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she gasped. “It’s inside the basket.”
Alarik moved swiftly, the edge of his dagger flashing. He studied the thrashing basket for only a moment before striking, his blade piercing through woven reed and flesh. The sandshrike let out a piercing shriek, sharp enough to make Kaelen flinch. Alarik didn’t hesitate—he struck again, silencing it with a final, decisive blow.
Relief crashed into him, sharp and disorienting, but it couldn’tdrown the storm raging inside. His pulse slowed just enough for the weight of it all to sink in. Across from him, Reiya slumped back, as if the tension had drained from her body altogether.
He reached for her, hands gripping her shoulders, grounding himself in the fact that she was alive, unharmed.
But the thought circled relentlessly—how close had he come to losing her?
His voice came rougher than intended. “Are you sure it didn’t touch you? Bite you?”
Sandshrike venom was among the deadliest in the nine kingdoms, its antidote rare and difficult to craft. Few healers possessed the skill to brew it properly, and more travellers perished from sandshrike bites than from heatstroke or thirst in the unforgiving desert.
“No, it didn’t,” she whispered.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her as if his arms alone could keep the shadows at bay. She quivered against him, her shallow breaths warm against his chest. He felt the effort she poured into holding herself together, and it only made him tighten his embrace.
“You shouldn’t have stayed,” he murmured against her hair.
She lifted her head to look back at him, brow furrowed.
“The moment I left, it would’ve slithered back into the shadows. What if we couldn’t find it again? What if it found Su Lian, Ru Rong, or worse—Mei Mei?”
He eased back slightly, his hands framing her face, searching her gaze. “You were very brave,” he murmured, voice rough.
Her quiet strength humbled him, filled him with fierce, aching awe. She’d stood her ground against one of the deadliest creatures in the desert, all to protect the family she’d come to see as her own.
Together, they lifted the basket, revealing the bloodied carcass beneath. His gaze met Alarik’s over the lifeless body, and the look in his brother’s eyes confirmed what he already suspected.
