Page 94 of Ravenrose

Natural. I almost laugh. There’s nothing natural about being stuck on a horse with the enemy captain who kidnapped you.

I don’t call him on it though, instead forcing my attention back down to Dash’s mane. With shaking fingers, I pick up another thick lock of hair, braiding it carefully.

My fear feels like lightning trapped beneath my skin.

The odds of who or what is stalking us being friendly are low.

And even if they were—maybe even someone sent to help me—Ayer’s grip on me is firm. And I’ve never been more certain that if it comes down to it, he’ll kill me himself rather than allow me to be rescued.

A shout sounds from the front, and my gaze snaps to the bend in the trail ahead.

A line of men appears, all of them dressed in armour—like a unit, but I don’t recognize the colors or banners.

My heart only falls a little when I don’t see the familiar Sitari white and gold or even the black and gray of Skye. I don’t want anyone dying for me today.

No, the soldiers ahead are dressed in brown with bronze armour and, despite drawing their swords, they have not yet launched an attack. Instead, they block the road entirely, forcing Ayer’s contingent to come to a halt.

The second we come to a stop, more soldiers pour out of the trees, bronze armour flashing through the shadows. It’s an ambush. My heart stops when I catch sight of their ears…

Tapered ears.

Fae—they’re fae.

Shocked, I search for anything familiar or reassuring, but when I meet their eyes, they’re anything but friendly. In fact, when they notice me, a hunger appears in them that sends a chill straight down my spine, driving me further back into Ayer’s chest.

The Kovari men clash with the onslaught of fae soldiers, sword on sword in the tight space.

We are outnumbered.

Ayer hangs back, his arm locked tight around me as his men fend off the attack. He pulls Dash backward, creating more distance between us and the fight.

But I can still see everything.

The fae have the obvious advantage: they’re bigger, stronger, and more agile. But the Kovari men move and attack as a team. They keep a tight formation, and it’s immediately clear this is a group of soldiers who know one another well—a group of soldiers who have fought many a battle side by side and have each other’s back.

They hold the line.

Ayer shouts out orders, smart and controlled, but the fae soldiers keep coming—spilling from the trees and flooding the narrow trail.

The road is narrow here, and the vegetation thick. There’s no room for anything but close-quarters combat. Sword on sword, the sharp clang of metal and shouts fill the air.

A fae soldier manages to break through the line, surging toward us. He’s fast, dodging Ayer’s men and their attempts to block him. The male charges straight for us, his blade raised, his dark eyes fixed on me.

I scream, but he doesn’t make it five feet. A knife whistles past, finding a new home in the fae soldier’s forehead. I watch in wide-eyed horror as the male crumples to the ground—dead before he even hits the dirt.

I’m too caught up in the shock of it all to notice Ayer dismounting behind me, until he’s pulling me down with him.

Death.

Everywhere—surrounding us. Blood soaking into the dirt, bodies litter the narrow path.

Ayer spins me where I stand, turning me away from the brutal fight to face him. My breath stutters when I meet his gaze. Staring down at me is the face of the Kovari captain, his jaw hard, and his eyes cold.

My eyes drop, catching the movement as he reaches for his belt, pulling a knife free.

Mine.

It’s mine.