Page 46

“That wasn’t fully grown?” I look back toward the ridge, half expecting to see it again, but the sky is empty. “It was almost as big as Klem.”

“An adolescent, most likely,” he says, shifting closer to the trap.

His expression darkens as he examines it, fingers brushing the rusted metal but avoiding the jagged teeth that had bitten into the leonai’s leg.

I worry my bottom lip. “Was this set by your people?”

“No.” His jaw tightens, then his gaze narrows on my palm. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” I say, pulling off the ruined glove and flexing my fingers. The movement sends a twinge through my hand, but the damage is only superficial.

He mutters something under his breath that sounds awfully like You’re stubborn.

I push myself to my feet, and we round the bend of stone where Lyxander must have tethered Klem and Rios to a scraggly tree before coming after me. I dig into my pack, pulling out a scrap of bandage, and wrap it tightly around my palm before putting my glove back on.

The chill bites through the tear, but it will do. I wiggle my fingers at Lyxander to show him as much.

He huffs a quiet breath, something that might almost be a laugh, and turns to untie our mounts. “We should keep moving. The longer we stay here, the more likely something else will find us.”

“Keep up, little bird. There’s not much farther.”

Lyxander’s voice floats back to me over the wind. With effort, I force my boots to scrape against frost-hard stone, my legs screaming in protest.

“Easy for you to say.” The words come out breathless. “You’re covering twice the ground with half the effort.”

Ahead, his silver hair stirs in the biting wind, catching the faintest glimmer of light. He removed my goiteía earring not long ago—something to do with wanting to be recognizable closer to his village. He glances back, and I scowl at the infuriating quirk of his lips. “I thought you liked a challenge.”

Heat flares beneath my chilled skin.

“And I thought you said we’d be there by nightfall.” I wave an arm, motioning toward the sky that has long since darkened.

“Maybe if you weren’t walking so slowly, we would be.” His smirk deepens, but he turns back around, tugging Klem and Rios behind him.

A cliff looms above, spearing upward in jagged defiance of the horizon. It looks so impossibly distant that my chest tightens. My legs ache until they tremble with every step as an inexplicable weight settles over me, like a hand pressing against my chest, and my breaths come faster, shallower.

The heat in my body intensifies, a feverish warmth that feels out of place in the biting cold. My vision wavers, the edges of the rocks blurring and shifting, and I blink hard, trying to clear it.

I stop, my steps faltering as the wind tugs insistently at my cloak, urging me forward.

But I can’t. I don’t want to.

Turn back.

The air grows dense, and the thought of taking another step sends a shiver down my spine. My head feels light, untethered, and the world sways, the snow and stone beneath my feet rippling like water.

“Aella?” Lyxander’s voice is a distant echo.

My breath catches, and I shake my head, trying to dispel the unease clawing at the edges of my mind.

“I…” The words stick in my throat. “I can’t. Something’s wrong.”

He’s in front of me in an instant, his presence grounding. His silver eyes flicker over me, then to the path ahead, as if he can see what I can’t.

“Focus on me,” he says, and his voice is like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat. “It’s the wards. They’re meant to turn you back. To make you doubt.”

“Wards?”

“Goiteía.” He nods, his gaze steady. “My people are private, so they help keep others away.”