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I couldn’t breathe, my skin crawling as I imagined my sweet, loveable friend slowly losing her soul. Zor secured the stirrup, then pushed my foot through.
He didn’t even hesitate before he touched me.
“Wipe that expression off your face, Anaria.” Zor headed for the ring, and I nudged the mare to a walk beside him. “Did you see this happen?”
“Yes.” The mare danced beneath me, my sweaty hands gripping the reins too tightly. Zor squeezed my ankle and I loosened my grip.
“It was grotesque.”
“I’m sorry. I truly am.” His eyes flicked to mine.
“Did she explain there is no saving your friend now that the Reaper has her?” I swallowed at the utter conviction in his voice.
He had to be wrong.I refused to accept Ember was lost.
“She’ll be the king’s spy, then.” His voice softened as he rechecked the stirrups, the saddle band. “Your friend is not your friend anymore, Anaria, no matter how much you wish for her to be. She will stay close to you, gather information for Solok and the Fae King, to be sent back to him through one of his spies, no doubt.”
“But can’t we…”
He stepped away. “Take her around again. Faster, this time.”
I urged the mare to a trot, then a gallop. This should be freeing, flying along on the back of a horse, just me and the wind and nothing else.
But all I saw were Em’s pleading eyes, her face filled with suspicion when she looked at me, the friend who’d left her behind.
When Ember arrived—if she arrived—I would get that Reaper out of her. Even if I had to rip the foul creature out with my bare hands. A little spark of hope burned away enough of my regrets that my head cleared slightly.
For the next hour, I followed Zor’s instructions to the letter. I hadn’t been lying to Lyrae yesterday. I had to learn as much as I possibly could, as fast as I could.
Before everything came crashing down.
“That was nearly perfect. One more time, Anaria.” Something warmed in my chest at the hint of pride on Zorander’s handsome face. I dug in my heels, leaning over the mare’s neck, shortening the reins like he’d showed me, rocking my hips with every thundering hoofbeat.
I could do this forever.
When I came around that final turn, both Raziel and Tavion were watching, but I didn’t panic. I tightened my knees and flew by, faster than I’d ever gone before, their faces blurring, the wind ripping tears from my eyes.
I slowed the mare, ignoring how intently Raz watched, how Tavion ignored me, his head and Zor’s so close they nearly touched. At least they knew of Ember’s imminent arrival, everyone except Tristan, who was hiding in his castle, pretending this part of his life was over.
And perhaps it was.
I would never begrudge someone for choosing their own path, even if he chose to hide his head in the sand while the world burned around him.
Part of me was even a little jealous.
Zor stepped away from Tavion and caught the reins, his eyes flashing with admiration. “You’re a fast learner, Anaria.”
“I had to be. Slaves aren’t often given second chances.”
Zor’s face softened, such a stark difference from its usual hardened planes. “No. They aren’t.” He murmured, never taking his eyes off me. “I’m sorry, Anaria. For all of it.” Then, like he regretted his words, he turned away.
“I don’t blame you.” I patted the mare’s sweat-stained neck as I studied his profile, the high cheekbones, his aquiline nose, wondering what terrible thing happened that he hated females so.
“Not you or Julian. None of that was your decision.”
His eyes snapped back to mine and his careful mask cracked for just a second, fear flashing in his eyes. “Blame me for what?”
“For giving me to the duke to be brought up as a slave.” I said cautiously. “That’s what…the Oracle told me happened. And it wasn’t your fault. It was hers.”
