Page 26 of Death Will Follow

“Lonely in your saddle?” she teased.

“You know I am.” Callan grinned. “Though I’m pleased to see you haven’t been thrown from yours.”

“If the gods favor you, perhaps I’ll demonstrate my technique for staying astride later.” Nova glanced sideways at him, and he tightened his grip on her hand, pulling her toward him for a kiss.

Tugging out of his grasp, Nova veered off toward the edge of the road and reached up to snatch a golden apple as she passed. With her dagger, she cut a slice of the crisp flesh and held it out to him. Callan leaned over, taking the fruit with his mouth and nipping lightly at her fingertips. Her gasp of surprise delighted him. He watched eagerly as she cut a wedge for herself and savored it, her eyes blinking shut. When she opened them, Callan realized he must have appeared hungry for more than fruit. Shooting him a coy smile, Nova tossed the rest of the apple at him. With a sharp click of her tongue, she set Shade racing along the cart road. Callan took up the chase, following close behind.

Nova caught up to Thorn and Bryn as they rounded the corner to arrive at the gates of the Pyralis Estate. Her face fell at once upon seeing the sheer number of sentries posted on the wall. Callan brought Frost to a halt beside her, and they stared in silence as the massive wooden gates groaned open, allowing them entry. She scanned the sea of canvas tents pitched within the stone courtyard as the horses carried them toward the Estate’s residential wing. Her last night in Pyralis had been one of joyful celebration, the autumn air full of music and laughter. Now, the air was heavy with shouted commands and the pulsing march of soldiers’ boots. Reinforcements summoned from around the territory.

The group dismounted outside the entrance, their horses handed off to stable hands once they’d unloaded their belongings. A male servant escorted them along somber corridors to a suite of bedchambers branching off from a shared parlor.

“A separate room has been prepared for you down the hall,” he said, motioning for Bryn to follow him.

“I’ll stay here if it’s all the same to you.” She dumped her bag on the floor and set her bow on the low table before sprawling out on one of the sofas.

“Very well, miss,” the servant replied, his lips forming a thin line as he eyed her dusty boots crossed at the ankles on the arm of the finely upholstered furniture. “I’ll have refreshments brought up.”

Nova caught up to him before he reached the door. “Begging your pardon, but might I speak with Lady Estrid?”

The male’s eyes widened. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. The Noble Lord and Lady are in mourning.” With that, he bowed and took his leave.

Nova nodded at the servant’s back as he disappeared into the hallway, a heaviness settling over her like a shroud. How could she have been so thoughtless? As far as Estrid and Rowan knew, Fawn had been killed. Of course they were in mourning. She worried the ring on her finger, eager to inspire hope in Fawn’s grieving parents, even if it meant exposing her dark secret to the light. She feared their reaction more than any other’s.

Tea and sandwiches arrived shortly after, and the four of them ate quietly. Thorn retired to his chamber once he was through, and Bryn lay back to doze on the sofa. Callan gathered up his and Nova’s things and, opening the door to their shared chamber, quickly tossed everything onto the bed before taking Nova by the hand and leading her into the corridor.

She followed close behind him as they walked the empty halls, watching through the windows as small groups of soldiers marched in formation. Only when Callan disappeared through a doorway did she realize where he’d been taking her: the library where she’d spent so many hours after she first arrived in Aemoria. She entered the familiar space, comforted by how the room remained unchanged despite all that had happened since she’d last set foot inside it.

A low fire crackled on the hearth, the firelight glinting against all the gold finishes. Crossing to the desk where Fawn always sat, Nova lifted the cover of the last book her friend must have been reading before she vanished. She drew her hand back and blew out a breath, blinking away any tears before they could fall and mar the delicate pages.

Callan came up behind her, and she turned to face him. His dark eyes mirrored the concern welling inside her chest.

“Don’t lose hope,” he said softly.

“I know, I know.” Nova forced a weak laugh. “If Fawn were here now, she’d tell me to stop being so dramatic.”

He pulled her close. “No one could ever accuse you of being dramatic.”

Nova draped her arms over his broad shoulders, curling her fingers around the nape of his neck. She tilted her head up to him, and he kissed her, deeply, parting her lips with a soft swipe of his tongue, still tasting faintly of apples. Nova lost herself in the sensation of the kiss, eager to forget the somber reason for their return to Pyralis if only for a moment.

“Cal?” A familiar voice came from the other side of the room, and Callan pulled back, twisting to face the door.

Nova peeked out from behind her mate’s tall frame to find Evander leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb. She sensed Evander’s initial surprise and the barb of anger that followed when he saw her. Odd, she thought. Evander had learned she and Callan were together when he came to their aid in Silvergard five months past. Was he jealous?

“Ah, Nova.” Evander smiled, but the corners of his mouth sagged slightly, more grimace than grin. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” He reached out, and Callan clasped forearms with him before clapping his cousin on the back.

“I wish we were here under happier circumstances,” Callan said.

“Yes, well . . .” Evander scanned the ornate mural painted on the ceiling, seemingly avoiding Nova.

Just then, Bryn popped her head into the room, drawing Evander’s attention. Her body followed, quiver slung across her shoulder and bow in hand. Bryn breezed past Evander without sparing a glance in his direction.

“Here you are,” Bryn sighed, as if she’d been searching high and low. “I doze off for a moment, and everyone disappears? With this many soldiers around, there should be somewhere for me to get in some target practice.”

Evander stood a bit taller behind Bryn, eyeing her weapon.

“We have a training field. I can show you if you’d like.” He flashed one of his signature smiles, flaunting a row of perfect teeth. “I’m an archer myself.”

Bryn finally took notice of him once he spoke, regarding Evander with an arched brow. “You don’t look like you’ve ever held a bow, let alone shot one.”