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It was peaceful here, next to the river. One of Demos’s hybrid friends had owed him a favor. He’d shaped the headstone out of rock so white, it looked almost like marble. And I’d asked him to etch Asinia’s mother’s name and birthdate on it.
Asinia would never have a body to bury. But Cavis had warded this place, promising that for as long as she lived, Asinia could visit.
I linked my arm through hers, and her breath caught.
“You can add anything you like,” I said.
She looked at me, her eyes gleaming with tears. “Thank you, Pris.” She hesitated. “What about…”
“I can’t yet. Vuena kidnapped me. She let people die to teach me lessons. I know there were good times and she did what she thought she had to, but…”
“It’s complicated,” Asinia finished for me.
I nodded. My birth mother had never been buried either. Her remains were likely still in the ruins of Crawyth.
Asinia looked at me. Her face was wet with tears. She took my hand, pulling until we were sitting on the ground in front of the headstone.
And together, we mourned her mother.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Five days of dealing with the wildkin. They would always be a threat, but I’d at least managed to warn a few of them against straying out of our territory. Hopefully, word would spread. The last thing I wanted to do was go back and swing my sword, and most of the wildkin were at least reasonable enough to know that was exactly what I’d do if I had to.
I was desperate for a hot meal, a warm bath, and my woman. Although I’d take Prisca first if I could convince her to overlook my rough appearance. I ran one hand over my unshaven jaw and pictured her lost in pleasure and grinding on my face.
The ward at the camp entrance shivered along my body, and I swept my gaze around, keeping an eye out for the wildcat. My entire body groaned as I dismounted, allowing one of the stable hands to lead my horse away.
Prisca wasn’t in her tent.
She wasn’t sitting at her spot near the river.
She wasn’t in the arena.
In fact, I couldn’t see any of them. Not Demos, Tibris, Asinia… I kept my eyes peeled for Vicer and Madinia, but they were nowhere to be found. Neither was Telean.
Fear wasn’t an emotion I was used to. But it slithered through me now, oily and cold.
Cavis strode toward me, his daughter snuggled into his neck.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“Prisca left, Lorian.”
Fear turned to panic, sharp and unrelenting. “Left to go where?”
“Conreth encouraged her to visit her kingdom. To attempt to find allies.” Cavis’s eyes were hard. “I only learned of her trip once she had already been gone for hours. I stayed because I needed to make sure someone let you know.”
She’d gone alone. Alone and unprotected.
The other hybrids didn’t count. They didn’t know the fae lands.
I turned with some vague idea of heading back to the stables, only to find Conreth waiting for me. His shoulders were squared, his head high. This was how he looked when he stepped into an arena to spar with his guards.
I met his eyes, letting him see the fury that blazed through my body. “You allowed her to leave without me?”
My brother held up a hand. “I sent five of my most trusted guards. She will be fine.”
I let out a strangled laugh. “Fine? That woman could find mortal danger in an empty, freshly plowed field. How could you do this to me, brother?” I attempted to step past him, with no thought other than to find her.
