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I knocked once, then stepped back, aggravated that my chest tightened. With what? Nerves? Unease? I was a damn killer, a darkened soul, and the thought of facing childhood playmates left me shifting on my feet.

I knocked again, only to have the door crack open before I could withdraw my fist.

Auki rubbed a palm down his sleep-weary face. He still looked much the same. A stern nose, deep-set eyes, and ears that always stuck out too much for his liking.

When he recognized me, he cleared his throat and dipped his chin. “My prince. Or can I just skip all the damn pretense?”

I waved a hand.

Auki nodded. “Good. Why are you knocking? You always barged your way in before.”

Unbidden, my lip curled. Nothing was as it once was. The sooner Draven folk understood that, the better.

I didn’t bother speaking—he wouldn’t understand me anyway—and shoved past him, searching for Emi.

Auki locked the door at my back and followed my attention to the door I assumed was his sister’s. “Take it you’re here for Nightlark?”

I dipped my chin in a brisk nod.

Auki didn’t make a move. “You know, I’ve been studying hand speak. Don’t know if it’s the same as yours, but as soon as Yanson told us what was sacrificed, I figured you’d find a way to talk again. You always did love your voice too much.”

I arched my brow.

Auki took a step closer. “Watch.”

As though he needed to prove his point, he moved his hands and fingers. The gestures appeared to be fashioning individual symbols. Not exactly the way Thane and I made my words, but similar enough that I was able to see he’d spoken his name.

The barest grin teased my mouth.

I lifted one hand and did the same with less awkwardness, my moves more fluid after seasons of use. Auki.

His eyes brightened. “Yes! How did you form the first symbol? It was different. I don’t know much, but I can gesture to eat, sleep, those are simple enough; I can warn of an attack. I’ll study the way you speak now.”

His words struck me like an iron bolt to the chest. All this time, for a dozen full seasons, Auki had been here, my ally, awaiting my return. A friend who’d gotten us into more precarious situations than Gunter, a boy raised to be devoted to the Dark Watch and his kingdom, and he’d always remained loyal to me.

For the first time, realization began to crack through the barbed, jagged walls I’d crafted around the folk of my old life. Auki did not care that I brought the melder here, alive. He did not care that I still claimed a bond to Lyra. None of it had changed the loyalty of a young boy learning to hand speak as best he could because a playmate had lost his voice and he knew they would face each other again one day.

I offered a tight grin, then pointed at Brynn’s door.

“Right. Prepare for gnashing teeth.”

Hushed arguments followed the moment Auki stepped through the door. A low rumble of a growl came, followed by a hissed curse.

Auki reappeared, back first, his hand out. “Brynn, godsdammit, call her off.”

The head of a tall, silver wolf stalked Auki through the door. Òlmr was stunning. Frigid blue eyes, streaks of black in the tuft of her chest, but the rest of her coat was sleek and pale gray.

The wolf had her lips curled, fangs flashing, and was wholly focused on Auki, who scrambled with familiar movements to calm a fara.

Brynn filled the doorway, the long half of her hair braided over her shoulder. She chuckled, observing her brother’s attempt to touch Òlmr. Auki’s craft had a way with wolves, soothing their minds and hearts. Fitting for a keeper of fara wolves. Brynn held similar talents, but from what I recalled, she was called a soul guider. A craft that could ease burdens until clarity of the mind was restored, a craft that led hearts forward.

Brynn guided the wolves in their training, their battles, their lives.

My old craft, before it was ripped out and replaced with the deledan, had been similar but connected to the guidance of the souls buried in the soil. Much like now, only gentler. It was how I stumbled upon Lyra during the raids. Like whispers of the dead urged me forward until I landed at her feet.

“Next time, you’ll learn to knock, Auki.” Brynn wore a smug grin that did not shift when she looked my way. “My prince.”

Brynn Oakbriar had been in my life since infancy. A woman I’d expected to call my wife when I was a boy, even if we both knew no soul bond would form between us. I would not forget the day she insisted we make our vow that if either of us found a bonded love, we’d defend it for the other with our lives.