Page 7 of The Ashborn

Tislin nodded. “Elowen has shared more than I thought she would.”

“Of course she did,” Connak sighed. “Tristian hoped she would.” He glanced around the trees, their trunks rising like pillars to hold the sky, feeding off magic buried in the ground. They pulsed with silver runes, an acknowledgement of his presence.

Sweet pine floated with the wind, sweeping his walnut hair with it. Stubble grew around his chin. He tried hard to keep neatly shaven, but since the start of the war, it’d been harder to maintain. Connak didn’t realize it would feel so itchy.

“Has she met the woodcarver yet?” he asked, watching Tislin stare at the shadows dancing at his feet. Connak’s brows deepened. “Did you use shadow work to get here?”

Tislin looked up, his face flat, and nodded. “He agreed to meet with her tomorrow. I had to bribe his apprentice, but he didn’t ask for much. The old man is slipping.”

Connak watched the black smoke, a reminder of who Tislin truly was. He tried not to let it concern him, knowing he only became this in a valiant effort to save his brother. Yet every time he conjured the shadows, bits of Tislin slipped away. “Do you have it under control?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, Commander.” Tislin’s voice was carefully tempered, but anger coiled behind it. “I should get back.” Before Connak could protest, Tislin stood and waved his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll walk.” His hazel eyes darkened a moment before he turned into the forest and left.

Connak should have gone after Tislin, just as he should have gone to find Tristian. He’d want to hear about Kienna’s time in Dove Port—that she happened to find the right people and her path was carving itself the way he’d intended. Instead, Connak opened his mind and branched out for Kienna.

She didn’t answer.

He wanted to slip into her thoughts, but he chose against it, not allowing their connection to invade her privacy. She was already pissed that he’d taken Seredai, the Elvish High Council healer, into her mind, and he was tiptoeing on thin ice.

As if the thought of it all summoned her, Connak’s mind was yanked forward. Normally, a door would stand between them that could be opened or closed to link their minds together. Connak could cut his way in if he wanted, but this time, he was forced through. He slipped right in and realized he was standing in the desert.

Kienna was running frantically, then she was falling. When she landed on the ground, dead bodies surrounded her in burning piles. He’d landed inside of a dream…no, a nightmare. She was witnessing a re-enactment of Dalelry with every single fear that war could incite. He could sense her panic, and it soon took hold of him, too.

Connak flexed his hands, wanting to touch something real around him so he didn’t burn with her trauma. Not that he wasn’t used to her nightmares, but before the war, they were crafted from normal fears, not the realities of war. Aside from the one with the woman’s head in River Storm; that one was haunting.

Flashes slipped into his mind again. Bodies ripped open. Black, matted wolf-like creatures with dead eyes. Those Vorthakai mangling the legs of soldiers from both sides. Then a fire, an explosion. Connak shot out of her head and waited for his eyes to readjust to the darkness of the trees. His heart raced, Kienna’s own fear surging through him like a fire.

Connak called for her again.

“Hey.” Her voice came in sweetly, but it rode the tail end of a pant.

He craned his neck, breathing to settle his heart before letting her into his mind. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she let out an airy laugh. “It’s not easy adjusting to a new bed. I’m sorry. I know it’s late. I should let you sleep.”

Connak grabbed her before she could pull away, rubbing his hand down her arm. “Never apologize to me.”

Kienna stilled as her blue eyes bore into him. He wanted to melt from the intensity of her searching, guarded orbs. He tried to evade the uncomfortable ache of wanting to finally know her, to see the woman he gave up everything for. She had to be worth it all. Otherwise, his life was meaningless. Timing was imperfect for them, and he was destined to be more frustrating than helpful as the Accords bound him to the laws of the Elvish.

Kienna’s chest rose and fell in a quiet breath. “I miss you.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. A spark returned to his expression like a long-lost habit, a sideways smirk that carried relief. “I knew you would.”

“Don’t make me kick you out,” she teased. She brushed her ashen hair behind her shoulders and inched her body closer to Connak’s. She smelled of sweet bread. “How are things?”

“I’m more concerned about you.”

Kienna’s smile flickered. “I’m alright.”

“Have you had any issues since Dalelry?”

Her mind darkened. Her shoulder blades tightened. Her arms folded across her chest. “…No.”

Connak crossed his arms. “It’s normal to have nightmares.”

“I’m not,” Kienna said too quickly, waving the conversation away with her hand.

He didn’t push. The moment was delicate, and her mind was already retreating. “Perhaps dreaming about me, then?” He let a crooked grin take the edge off.