Page 51 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

Once I think I’ve gone far enough, I stop jogging before I choke on my breath or get a cramp in my calf. Yeah… I’m not built for running, and though any blisters I develop from endless days of walking heal almost as soon as they appear, I’m gasping before long.

Or maybe that’s just because I’m so worried about Thane.

Deep down, I know I don’t have to be. He took care of himself long before I arrived in Noctavara. I’ve seen him, up close and personal, eliminate goldcaps and best other fae bandits with ease. Even though there were two slavers left, he dispatched the third one so quickly, they’ll think twice about testing him.

Though I don’t think they will. Now when I compare the way they treated me to how quickly they were to listen to Thane, as though his reputation preceded him. They were careful to listen to him. Why? I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter.

Not when the ‘P’ word is rolling through my head again.

Prophecy.

Prophecy.

Even worse, it has a name. The Prophecy of the Gilded Throne. As much as I want to shake it off, tell myself that is has nothing to do with me, what are the odds that it doesn’t? The queen sent a soldier to drag me from the inn. And, okay, the slavers were lucky enough to find me with my skirts up, but they instantly decided that I was some fabled shadow demoness belonging to a Noctavaran prophecy.

Gilded Throne, right? It has to be a Noctavaran prophecy, but what about the one that Mom was freaking out to Dad about? I only overheard one line—and, whoa, am I regretting that now—but it mentioned my heart stopping to break a curse. No royal gold chairs included, as far as I know.

But a third prophecy? I… it can’t be. It’s bad enough that I fulfilled a prophecy when I was an infant, but to be marked by a second and possibly a third. How unlucky can one halfling be? All I wanted to do was rescue Rafe, and as the days pass, I can’t help but think that he’s in even more danger, though I can’t see how he’s that far ahead of us. If we’re taking the same path toward the Gilded Court, and he only was captured such a short time before Katrin told me what happened, he might still be journeying toward the queen on a slaver’s caravan.

Unless he arrived in a different part of Noctavara. Unless he’s either at the Gilded Court already, or so far away that he’s been lost from the beginning. Unless the slavers didn’t use chains after they recognized was a shadow demon male could be worth—especially since Thane admitted that the fae in this realm steal bonds from demons—and went with a choppy-chop just like Thane.

Thane…

I need Thane. I need him here in a way that I wouldn’t have believed a mere seven turns of the moon ago. He makes me feel safe, he knows the strange rules in this realm, and he’s the only fae I felt like I’ve been able to trust—though I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have.

Binx rises up on his back legs, padding at my bare shin. I glance down, looking past the ragged tear of my skirt, momentarily regretting the impulsiveness that had me slicing it off. My soul-pet is sending reassurances down our bond as the same time as he’s checking that the slavers didn’t hurt me too badly.

The aches and pains from the way they grabbed me, slamming me around have faded. No, it’s the idea that they won’t be the last… that there is another prophecy that could possible be able me, and that it won’t be as easy as taking off with Rafe and running until I can open a portal to Sombra if all of Noctavara is waiting to see me do something… yeah. There’s a pulse throbbing at the base of my skull.

In a self-soothing gesture, I reach up to rub my thumb along the edge of my thorn. Crud. I forgot. Thane’s glamour is so powerful, he has even me convinced that they’re gone.

I sigh, then crouch down, stroking Binx’s ear instead. “That was a close one, bud,” I murmur.

He trills.

“I know. Next time I have to pee, I’m bringing my sword. Promise.”

He pushes his head into my hand, demanding a pat.

I smile. “Yeah. Thane’s not so bad, is he? I’m glad you think so. I’m thinking about keeping him so he might be around a little longer.”

At least, I was determined to keep Thane. During our travels, it really hit me what a gift it is for the gods to bless us with our one true mate. I never thought that Thane was my soul’s match until I got to know him, no essence exchange required. I’m attracted to him, and I like him, and though I know it’s soon, when I think of my bandit, I’m pretty sure I love him, though that could be the bond talking.

It probably is. But that’s how fated mates work. The gods lead us to our one true mate, the other half of our soul, and while it might not look like a match at first, eventually you accept that the gods… they rarely get it wrong.

I’m still not sure they have. But if he knew…

Binx interrupts my worries with a light-hearted chuffing sound that’s enough to steal a small laugh from me.

“Okay,” I agree. “If he misbehaves, you have my permission to bite him again.”

Binx lowers himself to all fours, turning so he can rub his flank along the side of my boot. I move my fingers to stroke him from head to tail when, without warning, he bounds a few steps forward.

My heart trips as Thane comes striding out of the trees in front of us.

His face is gorgeous, yet entirely expressionless. He doesn’t give anything away. Did he kill the slavers? Did he give them a stern warning and let the survivors get away to gather up more slaves? I can’t tell, but when I see the guarded look in his amber eyes, I know one thing.

He’s bracing himself to approach me. In that moment, I have my answer. What the slavers said… it’s true. Maybe the prophecy isn’t about me, but there is one, and the immortals in Noctavara who know I’m an outsider in their realm believe I’m the subject of it.