Page 147 of The Blood Rites

“Better than dead,” I mutter.

He cocks his head. “Better for who?”

I don’t have an answer for that. Where is Marissa?

He seems to consider something, then shrugs. “Give me one good reason not to end you right now.”

“I’m not a threat to you,” I say, panic rising in my throat.

“I don’t matter, Luceris,” he snaps. “You are a threat to the Prince. Whether you mean to be or not. You make him reckless. That makes you a liability.”

“I’m just trying to survive,” I snap back. “I’m just trying to keep Marissa alive. And the longer we keep talking, the more likely she is to end up dead at the hands of one of those Fireborn psychopaths.”

The air is thick with movement, fluttering lights gathering overhead. The light sprites are not aimless. They are watching us, clustering above us like carrion birds.

Nyxen grabs a handful of moss and wipes the blood from my forehead. The gesture is so abrupt I flinch. “I find it hard to believe you. What gain is there in protecting another here?”

“Do you not protect Kael?” I retort.

“That is different. He is my Prince. It is my duty.”

“I choose my own duty,” I say.

He studies me for a long moment.

Then a decision settles behind his eyes.

He nods and pulls me to my feet. “Very well, then,” he says, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.

The world spins as I stand. Nyxen grabs my arms, holding me steady. His hands are cold, the grip strong enough to bruise. He studies my face as if weighing whether to regret it or not.

“If I’m to bring you to the Prince, you’ll stay close,” he says.

“I need to find Marissa. Kael will be fine,” I say, but the words lack conviction, and he can tell.

He smiles without warmth. “Whatever you say.”

We head into the forest, every step a negotiation with thick roots and stubborn undergrowth. The air hums with the promise of violence.

Roots and shadows pass between us before Nyxen speaks. “You’re not like other Lightborn,” he says.

“Is that a compliment?”

“No,” he says. “It’s a warning.”

I laugh, dry and broken.

“I’m willing to bet that’s why Kael is so drawn to you. He’s always had a weakness for the lost and the forgotten.”

I look away, pretending to study the trees. The comment stings for some reason. Which am I? Lost? Forgotten? Both?

We move in silence for a while, the light sprites following above, growing in number the deeper we go. Their little eyes stay on me, hungry.

The ground shifts underfoot, sometimes solid, sometimes giving way to slop and mud. I have no idea where we’re going. There are no landmarks, just endless trees and the soft glow of the sprites.

At some point, Nyxen stops. He presses a finger to his lips and crouches low. I copy him, hiding in his shadow.

From ahead, a sound. Soft, at first, but it gets louder as my ears catch the rhythm. It’s a thudding, like footsteps on stone, and my heart hammers in my chest.