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Kiara’s breath tickled my lips. I hadn’t realized she’d moved, but she had, and her eyes had darkened—
“Ki!”
She groaned as I jerked away, the grating sound of Patrick’s voice stopping us from whatever it was we had been about to do. My heart plummeted into my stomach, the warming sparks dissipating as if they’d been doused in water.
“I-I’m here, Patrick,” she called out, her voice wavering and breathy.
I bolted to my feet. “Better check on Isiah,” was all I said before vaulting down from the raised rock.
Kiara gave a jerky nod and rose. Her shoulders were stiff and her steps uneven as she walked into the circle of recruits and Knights, a forced grin plastered on her face. She was far too good at faking it, nearly as skilled as myself.
The glances exchanged among the boys weren’t lost on me, and more than one of the recruits twisted their heads in my direction.
“Now,” she said, studying the card deck, her voice nothing but cool confidence. “Who wants to lose to me first?”
Nic rolled his eyes and Jake elbowed her gently in the side. Alec shook his head as if they were all beneath him, even if I could tell he wanted to join in. But Patrick? He’d turned to me, suspicion marring his face, his lips thinned in distaste.
I’d seen many men glare at me, whether it was right before I slit their throats, or after I delivered the king’s threats. But never before had such a look unsettled me as much as his did.
“Patrick!” Kiara shoved his shoulder, and he reluctantly lowered his eyes from mine. I let out a breath through my teeth. “Stop scowling and play,” she complained, scooting closer and into his side.
He said something in response, his tone light, but I could still feel the intensity of the warning he’d delivered as if he’d branded it upon my mind.
Stay the hells away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kiara
There have been reports surrounding the northern villages of Ardain and Rine. Fifteen men and women have gone missing from their homes near the Pastoria Forest. Only two bodies have been found, though what little remains of them offers no insight into the cause of death. The medics I’ve questioned have never seen anything quite like this before, and the decayed and mutilated bodies worry them to no end. I beg of you to send aid at once.
Letter from Randall Thorne of the Guard to
Commander Jude Maddox, year 49 of the curse
I woke to screams.
A lone torch had been left burning, though it did little to illuminate the damp cave, let alone the trees belonging to the Mist on our other side.
I’d fallen asleep beside Patrick hours before, but at some point my arms had looped around his torso like a tied bow, my cheek pressed against his warm, broad chest.
“What’s going on?” Patrick startled, his entire body shaking me alert, his voice laden with fatigue and mounting alarm.
“Screams,” I rasped, pointing out the obvious. I shoved off Patrick’s chest and bolted to my feet, my friend following suit.
Alec rushed to light the other torches we’d rammed into the various crevices, his face a stoic mask of calm. I shot him a look of thanks and he bestowed me with his signature curt nod, his hand gripping the hilt of his blade.
Jake and Nic dashed to my side, both out of breath, their hair mussed by sleep. The latter stood protectively in front of his friend, his dark eyes alert.
“Where is that coming from?!” I shrieked, confirming that my dagger was in place at my hip.
Isiah and Jude were up and ready for an attack, their weapons out and gleaming in the muted orange-and-amber glow. Outfitted in head-to-toe leather that swathed him like a second skin, his scars flaming and angry across his stormy eye, Jude embodied death itself.
Another shrill screech sliced through the air, the noise originating from deep within the tunnel from where we came. The blood-curdling wails were saturated in unimaginable anguish—so distorted, they hardly sounded human.Ifthey were human at all.
“Stay here!” Jude barked over his shoulder, calmly motioning for Isiah to follow as he took off in a sprint, his long legs carrying him toward the sounds of danger.
The commander and his loyal Knight were a whirl of shadows and steel, gone in the blink of an eye.
