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Her nostrils flared at the fire that bubbled beneath her skin. What about when she had found her son torn to pieces, lying on the white sands of the lake? Where had the so-called all-powerful Elvadora been then? Why had they chosen not to interfere? In the last four decades, the gods had gone silent, no longer walking between worlds. Had they finally forsaken Idyssa, or was it something else?

Sunlight bounced off the top of the male’s balding head; sweat glistened and trickled down the side of his face. Areanel had to lean back.

Crouching, she moved away from the pungent smell of his breath and scowled, nose scrunching in disgust. ‘Stop pleading. It’s getting boring. It’s always the same old—begging until I grow annoyed and slit your throat. But, if you’d give me what I want…’ Looking at him expectantly, she let her words settle between them.

‘Anything. I’ll give you anything!’

‘Well…’ she let the word drag, and drool slipped from Winter’s snarling mouth, dropping onto the male’s lap and her hand. The wolf snapped at the male, sensing her master’s impatience.

‘T-there is something!’ the male hurried out as Areanel wiped the slobber from her hand across his sweaty cheek, his skin coarse and sticky. ‘I heard some of the villagers talking. Everyone here knows that the chieftain can be bought. He has a gambling addiction. He’s lost many coins within Alabasus’ gambling dens. So, with the right amount, he’ll turn a blind eye to anything.’

Her brow quirked up in an almost offended manner. ‘You think I don’t already know that?’

The male practically tripped over his words as he rushed out, ‘But did you know that he’s a rebel sympathiser?’

Rebel. The word was like a death knell tolling inside her mind. Her fingers itched around her blade, begging her to slice the male’s throat at the mere mention of the rebels. If the chieftain really had been a rebel sympathiser, Areanel would stop at nothing to see the male torn limb from limb.

She felt the dwarf’s instant flinch, and her lips pulled back to reveal sharp fangs as she snarled, a purely visceral reaction. Animalistic and beastly in nature, just like the blackened beast darkening the corners of her mind. Areanel had become familiar with the creature—grief. It struck like an angered hornet with its stinging pain and clawed at her hopes with its daggered talons.

‘I heard he allows rebels to use the village as a nexus for trading information,’ the male continued, not noticing how Areanel’s grip had tightened around her blade. ‘He gives the rebels anything they need: resources, weapons, intelligence, sanctuary. Anything. He makes sure they’re looked after because they pay him a hefty price.’

Silence, chilling and scheming, fell around them in a thick, heavy blanket. Areanel pushed her raging emotions down, refusing to let the ramifications of his words take hold, no matter how much she wished to carve out his loose tongue. Areanel would gladly accept any drivel about the rebels who threatened their kingdom.

If they wanted to end the monarchy, they would have to go through her first. Areanel was more than ready to eradicate every single one of those rats.

Lips falling into a stern frown, she scowled at the male. Her tongue hit the roof of her mouth, and she let out a reprimanding click. ‘You’re not very loyal, after all. One measly threat on your life, and you’re already spilling secrets.’ She tsked, almost disappointed by the easy interrogation. She had hoped for a more entertaining conversation.

‘I don’t understand.’ The male cowered. ‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’

‘Hmm.’

Footsteps crunched against the crisp amber leaves, and scuffled black boots came to a stop by her side. ‘Heard you’re ordering people around again,’ a gruff voice said curtly.

The world spun for a moment as Areanel rolled her eyes at the gritty, clipped tone. Looking up at the male, she replied sweetly, tone dripping with honey. ‘That is the premise of my job, dear brother.’ Her knees shifted, clicking as she stood. Shaking the dried dirt from her pants, she turned to face them. ‘Are the villagers ready to move?’

‘Yes,’ he mumbled.

‘And the fire is contained?’ Areanel asked. Arms crossed over her chest, she took on a more offensive stance.

‘Yes,’ he repeated.

Completely baffled by his attitude, Areanel spun towards the dwarven male who was still kneeling in the dirt at her feet. ‘I present the eldest of my brothers,’ she gestured dramatically towards the male standing behind her. ‘Who apparently only gives one-word answers.’

‘I don’t answer to you,’ her brother huffed, mimicking her offensive stance, comfortably hooking his hands into the neck of his shirt.

‘And I wish Ivan were here instead of you, but, oh—would you look at that! I guess neither of us is getting what we want. Actually—’ she took a step closer, crowding his space, toe to toe. Straining her neck, she still managed to somehow look down her nose at his large form, glaring like he was nothing more than dirt beneath her boot. Who in the gods’ name did he think he was? ‘Last time I checked, I outrank you, Elmrynn. As General, I outrank everyone here.’

Elmrynn scoffed. A mean and menacing grin graced his lips. ‘Is that why Father sent me?’ White teeth gleamed, sharp and ready to tear out her throat. ‘Why he sent all of us with you? He doesn’t trust you or Percy. He sent me, Nym and Sevain to ensure you didn’t try to run again.’

‘I’m not running,’ she all but growled in his face, the sound more animal than elven. Winter mimicked her threat with a snarl of her own, stepping closer, front leg grazing Areanel’s shoulder.

‘No. And you won’t ever again. Father made sure of that, didn’t he? Unless you want to go back into The Pit for another year.’ She knew from the way his eyebrow twitched that he was baiting her, but she wouldn’t fall for it. ‘Some envoy you are.’ He nudged her shoulder before turning, trudging back the way he came.

Scowling at his retreating form, in an abrupt and subconscious action, she threw up her middle finger—her own form of rebellion in response to his crass words, even though he couldn’t see her.

A whimpering, hesitant chuckle sounded behind her. Areanel didn’t even bother giving the male a glance—she didn’t have to. No sooner did the sound escape his lips than Winter’s maw dashed forward, lightning quick, and snapped shut around his neck. He hadn’t even had a chance to scream before she was ripping his head clean off his shoulders.

Areanel took in a long, deep breath before sighing, exasperated. ‘Winter.’ The sound of her wolf’s name elongated as Areanel groaned, reprimanding her bonded. ‘This is why people fire at us first and ask questions later!’