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“A lot changed after you left, Nightlark. We grew up. Understood more.” Gunter’s words were firm, steady. “We’ve merely been waiting for the end of your sentence locked with some sodding prince and the damn Jorvan king.”

My heart cracked a little thinking of Prince Thane. No mistake, Roark felt a great deal more than he let on about his betrayal of the man. Yes, they were meant to be enemies, but they were brothers, as true as if they shared blood.

And Roark had abandoned his friend—his brother in all ways that mattered—to chaos and danger in Stonegate…to save me.

Unbidden, I gripped Roark’s wrist. Tension flowed in his forearm, but at my touch, his breaths eased.

Gunter let out a heavy sigh. “Come on. You may have no choice but to trust me. Let me at least try to prove it’ll be worth it.”

After a moment of hesitation, Roark adjusted so his fingers slipped through mine, urging us forward to where the ropes to cross the ravine awaited.

5

Roark

Most of the Dark Watch gave us a wide berth after Fillip met the gods.

The rope walkways swayed in the wind. Lyra had need of a pause twice before hurrying off the opposite end to the forest paths over Dravenmoor borders, her shoulders slumped in relief to be on solid ground.

Only when I dragged Lyra to a narrow, more isolated path did a blade stand in my way.

A young Dark Watcher swallowed thickly. “Can’t be straying, Highness.”

I grinned, hoping a great deal of Fillip’s blood stained my teeth.

“You want to end up like Fillip, Henri?” Gunter knocked the watcher’s blade away. “Where do you suppose they can run? We’re in Dravenmoor, you sod. There’s only forward lest the prince wishes to flee for the Night Ledges. I’d wager my own cock we’d catch them first.”

“I’m to keep them in sight,” argued Henri.

“Oh, are you, now?” Gunter flicked at a piece of a dried leaf on his arm. “You wish to force the man the Jorvans named Death Bringer, whose soul will likely eat yours out of sheer annoyance, to walk by your side?” Gunter chuckled darkly and leaned closer. “Who do you fear more, Henri, your Dark Watch commander or your damn prince?”

Henri hesitated but soon lowered his blade. “Keep close, the wood is—”

Does this fool think I have never traipsed these damn woods? My rough gesture cut him off.

Lyra cleared her throat and spoke. “He reminds you that he knows these trees.”

Gunter laughed. “The amount of time we spent on these trails, we know them better than you, Henri. Set the fara on their scent. They won’t run. Same as before, my prince, I’ll watch Nightlark.”

“You keep thinking I can’t handle my own neck,” Emi called from where she stood ten paces off.

I did not revel in the idea of Dark Watch fara wolves tracking our every step, but I would prefer it over traipsing about with a horde of warriors who wanted Lyra dead and were willing to disregard their queen’s word to see it done.

I made no more effort to speak, merely led Lyra into the trees. The path was narrow but shadowed. Free of scrutiny.

“Where does this lead?” she whispered once the steps of the Dark Watch were more distant.

The back side of the palace.

“Are the wolves truly there?”

I tilted my head and slowed my pace for a breath, then another. I nodded. Twenty paces away on every side. They won’t harm us unless signaled.

“Unless signaled.” She scoffed. “Not exactly comforting after…what happened.”

I tightened my hold on her palm. We’ll be fine.

Lyra didn’t protest, nor did she try to use the wretched truths between us to create distance. She clung to my arm, my hand, like I was her beacon in the night.