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Three.
Three fucking stonewraiths and one of them stole our bounty.
I drew my sword and charged into the woods, following the marks dug into the rich soil. I kept my eyes on those ruts until my stallion was trapped in the undergrowth and Zor caught up with me.
“Leave him. We’re on foot.” Zor’s keen gaze followed the wavering furrows as Tristan and Raz caught up to us. “She left us a trail to follow. Smart girl.”
Smart girl, my ass.
She was a means to an end, nothing more.
If we lost Anaria, we’d get nothing.
I had too much riding on this to fail now. Zor had his entire career. Tristan would never get his home and title back. And Raziel…Raz would lose more than any of us.
But guilt twinged inside me as we crashed through the desiccated forest, guilt that she was caught up in this…guilt that I had been far too hard on her.
“Can you get out ahead of them?”
“Not if I can’t hear a fucking thing. Stop moving.” We did as Zor asked, then he vanished. I heard a far-off crash, a scream, and he was back, holding Anaria in his arms, her eyes wild, my heart squeezing at the sheer amount of blood soaking her dress. Zor released her and she stumbled straight into Tristan.
“Are there more of them?” She gasped; blood leaking between the fingers she had pressed to the wounds. My heart squeezed at the terror on her face, the scratches covering her body. “Where are they?”
“Gone.” Tristan muttered, tearing off the sleeve off her dress to get a closer look. “These are deep. Deep enough they won’t stop bleeding without help. Raz?”
Anaria trembled when Raziel stepped closer. He was an intimidating fucker, with his soulless eyes and shorn head, the spiked collar welded onto his neck.
The collar nulled down most of Raz’s destructive magic, but still allowed him a trace of healing magic.
“Hold still, Anaria. Let me take a look.” Raz’s voice was gentle, but the second he touched her, Anaria shivered, her frantic gaze darting to mine. Ishouldfeel sorry for her, in over her head with no idea what lay ahead of her.
Part of me pitied her and I balled up my fists, fighting this ridiculous instinctual urge to take her into my arms. To protect her from harm.
But she’d killed Julian and she’d get what she deserved at the Shadow King’s hands.
As ruthless as that fucker was, I might not get a chance to exact my own revenge.
“I don’t have much magic, but I have enough to heal you. This might hurt, but it’ll be over in a minute.” She gasped when Raziel brushed his hand gently down her arm and the wounds faded away, replaced by pink, healing flesh. Anaria touched the new skin with a look of wonder on her face. From experience, I knew the rapid healing would itch like mad, but she’d be able to ride.
Ifwe could find our horses.
By the time we reached the path, rounded up my stallion and the other mount, we were in trouble. Two horses, five of us.
“Two on foot, Anaria stays mounted, we take turns riding.” Zorander shot me a worried look. “We have to take the bridge. The other way will take us a week on foot.”
“What if you ghost to the next settlement?”
“Still be an extra day back with fresh horses.” Zor searched the trees, knives in both hands. “We can’t afford to be out in the open for that long.”
“They went straight for the girl.” Raziel pointed out quietly. “Took out a horse, forced us to travel on foot. They’re slowing us down.” He shifted closer to her.
“They aren’t that smart.” Tristan scowled; his bow drawn as he studied the dense forest. “How far are we from the bridge?”
“A day.” Zor calculated. “And no, they aren’t. Someone sent them.”
Anaria followed our conversation closely. Once more, her hand crept into her pocket, and I wondered what she was hiding. Behind the lost little girl act, our bounty was cleverer than she let on, pretending she was a slave, to play on our sympathies. But that was just an act.
Raziel had been a slave for two centuries.
