Again. Because I so clearly lost that particular battle.
“No,” I answer, and I mean it, even though there are remains of dead warriors glittering in the crimson light hovering over the wood. While more unnecessary death is the last thing I need weighing down my already overburdened conscience, it was us or them, and I’m beginning to understand the misery of that situation.
They had a choice. They chose wrong. I’m only glad I didn’t see it happen.
“Good.” He winces. “I don’t hate you either, for breaking your promise and seeing things you weren’t meant to see. You could’ve been hurt. Killed, even. That could be you in those trees, all because you don’t listen.”
He gives me an irritation-laced glare, the same look he wore when he tricked me before we entered the construct. Only now, it’s half as severe.
I arch a brow. “But I was not injured or killed. And now, I require a thorough explanation. Not this moment, but soon.”
Still breathing hard, he glances beyond the destroyed path. “How about within the hour? There’s a stretch of caves ahead, in the ravine I’d hoped to avoid. But perhaps it’s the best route. We’re farther north than I realized. We can get out of sight, get warm, rest, and I’ll tell you all that I can.”
This seems far too easy, though I hear his boundaries plain enough: All that I can.
Still, I’ll take it. This man has secrets. He’s willing to talk, and I’m tired of being in the dark. Besides, I can be more than persuasive.
He’s a little steadier now, so we make our way through the snow toward Mannus and Tuck. I catch him staring at me, paying no attention to the path before him, a glint of amusement sparkling in his glassy eyes that are slowly returning to their normal shade.
“Are you always this disobedient?” he asks.
I just smile, and for a few minutes, as we walk, I let myself live in the strange sense of normalcy that settles over us, just Alexus and me, shoulder to shoulder. No thoughts of magick or the prince or the king or dead Eastlanders at our back. No whispers across my mind reminding me who he is and that there’s a very good chance that he’s more than I ever dreamed. It’s just us and the snow, and the need for the ordinary, that mundane existence that Mena said I struggle with.
Yet right now, I ache for the mundane, for the dream I’d had on Collecting Day. I imagine being somewhere else, far away from all of this horror. Me and my family and friends, and maybe Alexus. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be at odds with a magickal, mythical prince who might end me. I just want simple and easy. Long walks and stargazing in a world that doesn’t feel like it might crumble any moment.
I look at Alexus again. His face is serious and, when he stops and pulls me to him, kissing me, his body trembling with the rush of a one-sided battle, I taste what remains of his power. The potent flavor is as sweet as fresh honey on my tongue.
Dark. Promising. Consuming.
And I know, beyond any doubt, that I’ve tumbled headfirst into the worst kind of trouble.
And that everything—everything—is about to change.
26
Raina
The trek to the caves is dangerous, taking us down a steep hill and into a dry gorge northeast of Hampstead Loch. We ride together on Mannus’s reliable back, pulling Tuck behind. Both animals are so tired that the short journey is even more of a battle. As for me, my side hurts from where I snagged it on the rocks, and I think I might be bleeding a little, but performing a healing on such treacherous terrain is impossible.
The ground flattens once we reach the ravine, making the ride more manageable, though the barren riverbed is rocky and littered with boulders. Overhead, the sky looks like it’s painted with blood and speckled with snow.
A wind whips and whistles through the bluffs and nearly rips away the gambeson I cling to for dear life. I tug it tight and tuck my chin to my chest against the gust, causing me to miss the veins of electricity that arc above. But I still feel the power and see the flicker of light.
I’ve never witnessed lightning amidst snowfall, much less silent lightning, but every so often, a white flash bolts across the red sky. It’s enough to make me cringe with every streak, but eventually, it fades and the wind stills, and I drift. True sleep has eluded me for too many days, and my body finally gives in.
When I wake, I’m slow at coming back to life. The first thing I grasp is that I think I heard a wolf howling. Secondly, I’m in a cavern, lying on the gambeson. A dying fire and my mother’s dish—filled with melted snow for scrying—wait a few feet away.
Alexus’s arms are around me, one slung over my waist, holding me tight against him while the other rests beneath my head for comfort, our fingers entwined. The old blanket covers us, and his warm, steady breath stirs my hair. His beard has grown a little in these last few days, and it tickles my ear. So little has given me reason to smile in the last several days, but this closeness is so calming that I let a satisfied grin unfurl.
The fire Alexus must’ve built after bringing me inside the cave has burned to embers, so I think we’ve slept for a long while. I don’t feel completely rested, but I no longer feel like I might die from the lack of sleep either.
The cave isn’t what I imagined. There’s light—and not only from our fire. The faint glow from the crimson sky shines through a small space between two finger-like formations protruding from the ceiling. The cavern’s innards are deep and tall enough that Alexus was able to bring the horses inside. They rest at the rear of the cave, lying down, exhausted.
Lastly, it strikes me that the Prince of the East didn’t come to me while I slept. Perhaps he really is gone, though I’m not sure he would’ve left without the God Knife. He thought he had it, but Alexus was right. I destroyed his moment of gloating. He won’t let that stand if he can help it.
I sigh. I can’t think about the prince right now. Don’t want to think about him. I just want to lie here, absorbing Alexus’s body heat while he rests, thinking about the way his heart beats against my back, the rhythm in time with my own.
“You should be sleeping.” His voice sends a delicious shiver through me.
I squeeze his hand, not wanting to let go to speak.
He leans down and presses a tender kiss to my neck, making every inch of my skin come alive.
“I need to add kindling to the fire,” he says against my ear. “Or it will get very cold very quickly.”