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He’s...afraid of me?

Slipping back into a fast march, he didn’t care I had to jog to keep up.

My mind raced at what he’d said, cursing him for sharing a piece of himself that actually made me stop and see it from his point of view. See how his life had been consumed by this entanglement, same as mine. See how his future had been stolen, same as mine.

I didn’t want to feel any sort of commiseration for Aktor.

I wanted to keep hating him, loathing him, plotting how to end him so I could be free...

But some small, dark part of myself understood him, and I didn’t like that.

Not at all.

He threw his shoulders back, his marching legs encased in furs and reeds, just like the other hunters to protect their soles from running over sharp stalks. His spear waited for him in Tral’s hand, and he stormed straight toward it, giving me an icy smile. “You guided us here. It’s time you look upon the condemned and see death flare in their eyes. Then maybe you won’t be so eager to run into death’s arms, no matter how tempting it may be.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

. Darro .

I WEAVED MY WAY THROUGH the hunters on the east side, treading silently, using my shadows and the air motes to keep me unseen amongst the Nhil. My mastery over the air element had increased enough to no longer need complete concentration.

With silent feet, I crested the short rise and looked upon the shallow valley writhing with brown-bodied bison. They huddled together as a family. A massive family that would grieve each and every one of them who died by a Nhil hand.

Zetas and I were used to the flash of sorrow and terror in our prey’s eyes.

But Runa?

It would break her.

Her sensitivity would crush her. She’d feel the killing blow. She’d suffer as the bison passed on, just as she had when she saw Natim’s dead mother.

She can’t see this.

Whatever was about to happen would be carnage.

Glancing back at the Nhil hunters who’d camouflaged themselves amongst the brittle grasses, I counted over twenty.

Twenty males and females, all bristling with weapons. Some hunters carried bows and arrows, others with their trusty spears, and some brazen enough to clutch simple daggers, intending to leap onto a beast and use their own brawn against a creature a thousand times their size.

The bison themselves were shaggy for winter and well fed from an abundant summer. Their horns caught spiels of sunlight, and the calves from this season were no longer small and vulnerable but spritely with adolescent vigor.

I drifted closer, my scent and body hidden by swirling air.

No one saw me.

Not Nhil. Not bison.

Even Runa couldn’t see me, yet she sometimes looked in my direction as if she sensed me near. When Aktor had dragged her away from the healer, whispering violently into her ear, I’d so very nearly struck him.

My shadows had lashed out, closing the distance between us with just a simple thought.

But then, Runa had fought back.

They’d argued.

Her eyes had widened, and the disgusted rage flowing off her whenever Aktor went near her hiccupped with...concern?

Why did she feel concern for him?

I halted my attack.

I remembered who I’d end up hurting and added another layer of restraint on the agonising pain in my belly.

Pain that’d only grown worse the past few days.

Pain that cracked my bones and tainted my blood, whispering of murder and mayhem.

Whoever I was and whatever power I had, fought against my desire not to remember. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the urges to recall.

Breathing hard, I wrapped another cape of air around myself, trying to create the same bubble Rivoza had trapped me in when Solin completed the blood bind, hoping that if I lost control of my shadows that the air barrier would trap them, so I didn’t kill every hunter and bison in sight.

Trembling a little, I looked toward Runa where she argued with Solin. She pointed toward the rear where the healer had gone, trying to follow Olish instead of being guided toward the heart of the hunt.

Tral interrupted and shook his head, motioning at his son and no doubt reiterating her responsibilities as part of the leader’s circle.

I tried to unfurl the golden bridge that turned our separate hearts into one just as Runa gave up and unwillingly followed the men. They didn’t speak as they crested the small rise and looked at the giant herd below.

I willed the connection between us to snap into awareness.

I needed to speak to her.

To tell her to run so the misery of these poor creatures wouldn’t break her gentle life-giving heart.

But no matter my control over air, shadow, and death, I couldn’t tread within her mind without her invitation.

I moved closer to them, keeping the air obedient, using it to distort my solidness. Zetas whipped her head toward me from where she stood a few paces away from Runa. The wolf had done as I asked and stayed close by.

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