He told me that he wanted to consult with his allies in camp and expose Dimitri and Tysion’s loyalties. Not that anyone would be surprised.
Spotting a flaw in this scheme, I asked, “If you tell them what happened, won’t they disqualify me? Dimitri will have the perfect excuse for calling in the Hunt.”
Wilder’s brow puckered. “They won’t do that. Not when they understand why. I’ll tell them you led the hunt for the nightshade, and leave out how you discovered its location.”
“You won’t tell them who I am?” I asked flatly.
He pulled back a bit to stare. “You have to ask?” Guarded words that pushed me to scan his face; there, pain and ire showed.
The frost around my heart cracked. “Sorry. I …”
As I fumbled for the right things to say, he moved to kiss each of my eyelids shut. “Sleep, Serena.”
My mouth parted, but he closed it with a soft kiss. I leaned into that touch, but he drew back almost immediately. Whatever was going on with him, I sensed that tonight this had to be enough. So I settled against his chest, listening to the beats.
Tomorrow we’d fly back to chaos and scheming, but right now, our canopy acted as our cave. Safe, hidden from the world amidst swaying branches. The stars as our only witnesses.
Under silver clouds and sprinkling showers, the camp came into view the following morn. Wilder paused and hovered. “Ready for this?”
My mood slipped, blackening. The breach between us hadn’t healed, and and he’d been detached and brooding ever since we’d woken. It seemed whatever world had opened for us—whatever we’d grown into—had been put on hold. I could only hope it hadn’t been obliterated. I sighed, suddenly bone-weary, and answered, “No, but let’s get it over with.”
He nodded and fell into a nosedive.
Exhilaration—one free from fear—caught in my throat. I didn’t breathe properly until we’d landed outside the back gate. Wilder set me down, and we scanned the area. Apart from two winged sentries saluting him atop the watchtower, Kasi seemed deserted.
“What now?” I mumbled.
Wilder’s nostrils flared, breathing in the scents. “I’m taking you to my rooms.” Surprise rocked me as he continued. “Your friends won’t be back yet, and you can’t be left alone.”
“Won’t that look bad?”
Wilder pressed into my elbow, steering me toward the staff quarters. “There’s no point pretending; our scents are entwined. Along with Frazer’s.”
My cheeks warmed a touch. Stars.
We made it to his living room without incident. Wilder closed the door, dumped his bag and cloak on the floor, and turned to me. “I can’t stay. The sooner I’ve sent word to Morgan and met with the others, the better off we’ll be.”
I gave a tight nod, anxiety surging.
Wilder held out a splayed hand. “Give me the nightshade, and I’ll take it with me. You’re meant to present your item to Goldwyn, but I’m sure she won’t mind me doing it.”
I dropped my bag next to his stuff and dove in, dragging out the leather pouch. I handed it over and as I pulled away, our fingertips and eyes met. Breathing become difficult. All too soon, he stepped back. “Stay here. I’m locking you in. Don’t open the door for anyone,” he said roughly.
There was no sign of a key.
“How are you locking it?”
He paused, long enough to explain. “There’s a phrase that activates a warding spell around the room. It only prevents people from getting in, so if there’s an emergency, you can leave.”
Wilder left quickly. I propped my weapons up against the wall, shucked off my cloak, kicked off my boots, and stood, hovering.
What now?
Not wanting to think on what Wilder would be facing, I searched for something to do. Exploring seemed like a good place to start. Veering left, I crossed the room and ventured through a door. The book piles and the ruffled sheets on the bed confirmed this was Wilder’s room.
And it was a double bed. I hadn’t thought … hadn’t considered what staying with him might mean. Suppressing a pulse of knee-wobbling emotion, I studied the details. There was a bedside table with a firelight lamp, a pine trunk shoved into the corner, another door leading to an annexed bathroom, and a window with a light splattering of rain coating the glass.
Feeling drained, I sat on the bed and let my feet dangle off the edge.
Utter silence. Alone with my thoughts. Not a good place to be.
Collapsing back onto the bed, watching motes of dust float through the still air, I slipped into blessed numbness.
I awoke to find the room cloaked in darkness. Disoriented, I sat up and fumbled in the gloom. As soon as my hand brushed the firelight’s crystal shell, it flared to life.
Stunned by the sudden brightness, I picked the lamp up with narrowed eyes and stood. I moved into the living space, hopeful. Light flooded the room in a flickering glow. My stomach fell. No Wilder.
A knock on the door made me nearly drop the lamp. I regained my composure, only to have the tapping sound grow more insistent.
I froze. Unsure.
Wilder’s instructions had been clear: don’t open the door. But he’d been gone all day. What if something had happened? Could the person knocking have information I needed?
The tapping subsided just as my recklessness and desperation almost won out. Feeling jellylike, I walked to an armchair by the cold hearth and sunk down. Placing the lamp by my side, I grabbed a blanket to pull over my lap and chose a book to flip through. The words blurred together, and I reread the same line at least a dozen times.
Every hour that lagged had my impatience ticking up a notch, until I felt like screaming and kicking down walls. I considered just leaving but decided to at least wait out the night. My stomach had long been protesting, so I moved over to my bag by the door and seized leftover food parcels. I swallowed tasteless mulch and almost gagged as the door opened. Backing up, I stumbled to a halt.
Wilder.
A half-stifled gasp shuddered out of me. He’d only just got in the door when I ran over and collided into that hard male body, throwing my arms around his neck. Wilder caught me and for a moment, his defenses crashed down. One arm wrapped around my waist and lifted me so that my feet trailed along the floor. Then we lingered in an embrace. Relief choked me to the point where the questions I’d wanted to ask died in my throat.
“Are you okay?” he mumbled.
“No,” I said, my voice muffled.
Wilder released me and stared. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s been hours. I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought.”
He clasped my hand and guided me to an armchair. “I’m sorry. I’ve been stuck with Hilda and the others.”
“Dimitri too?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he said, freeing his hand from mine. “I’ll build a fire; you’re far too cold.”
I tried to smother the frustration, but the caged animal inside my chest still felt like it was growling, pacing. “Please, just tell me what happened. I’ve hated sitting here, not knowing.”
Wilder hesitated for a wingbeat, then crouched and started to stack firewood in the grate. “I know. But I’m glad you weren’t there. I’m not sure I could’ve kept my temper if you had been. Dimitri’s insults were even more vile than usual.” A quiet, wrathful response that sapped the strength from my limbs.
I slumped back into the cushiony lining of the chair as he grabbed a box of matches from atop the hearth. Lighting one, he threw its spark amidst the wood. Garnet and gold flames came alive, crackling and dancing. I watched and waited for him to explain.
He didn’t.
“And?” I urged impatiently. “Am I getting kicked out? Is Morgan coming for you?”
Wilder rounded on me. “Tysion and Hunter haven’t returned. And since both sides are just hearsay, Hilda’s reserving judgment.”
A frown knotted my brows together. “What does that mean?” I asked, tucking my legs up on the chair.
“It means she’s not punishing anyone. But since I admitted to helping you, and Dimitri’s claiming innocence, she’s really siding with us.”