“I will not leave you to die alone. Don’t you dare ask that of me.” His face was stern, the intent clear in the lines of his oval face. He shook his head in a final warning, his shaggy hair swaying from side to side.
“Maybe I should have just let them find me,” I said, heaving out a sigh. Even saying the words, there was no doubt that Brann would refuse them. They were also true, the right thing to do. “At least then you would be home with Mom.”
“Listen to me, Estrella. I meant what I said last night. No matter what happens, you must never allow the Fae to take you to Alfheimr. Promise me,” he said, his voice dropping low in something like a plea.
The vehemence in his voice made me pause, staring at him in confusion. Of all the people in Mistfell who cursed the Fae and all that they stood for, Brann had never uttered a word about them. He wasn’t drawn to the Veil in the same way as me, and he now insisted upon keeping a healthy distance from all things related to the monsters beyond the Veil. “What are you—”
“Nothing is ever easy, and nothing is as it seems. If it looks like you’re going to lose the fight, you end it,” he said, pulling a small dagger from his boot. He tore off a strip of cloth from his cloak, shoving the sleeve of my dress up my arm until he could secure the sheath against the inside of my forearm with the torn fabric. “You do not risk losing this using it on anyone else. This is for you.”
“For me?” My brow furrowing as he pulled the fabric of my dress back down to cover the weapon I couldn’t wrap my head around.
Why did my brother have a knife in his boot?
“If I’m gone and I cannot take the burden for you, you have to be the one to do it,” he said, leaning forward to touch his forehead to mine.
“Where is this coming from?” I asked, staring up at him with blurry eyes. The emotion clogging his throat matched mine, his gaze going wet as he touched his lips to my forehead in a brotherly kiss and his hand wrapped around the back of my head. The knowledge that my brother intended to kill me before he allowed the Fae to take me filled me with a conflicting sense of dread and warmth.
I’d been willing to die before I let Lord Byron have me; the same could be said for the Fae, but he wouldn’t have made that choice when the male coming for me was human.
“I love you more than anything. Surely you must know that.” He pulled back far enough to watch my face for a reaction, saying, “Trust that I would not ask this of you if it weren’t important. There will be no light for you in the realm of the Fae. Only darkness and torment, the likes of which you couldn’t even begin to imagine.”
I stared up at him, my mind dancing with so many questions, I thought I would drown in them. But for the moment, I chose to trust my brother, who had only ever wanted to protect me. I nodded, fighting back the tears that stung my throat. He had to know that I would voice the questions that hung between us, but I wasn’t certain I was ready for the answers waiting in his eyes. Still, I asked, even knowing from the steely expression on his face that it would be pointless. “What are you hiding?”
“One day, I will answer all of your questions, but today is not that day.” He shook his head when I opened my mouth to protest, his forehead dropping to mine again as he closed his eyes. “Sometimes ignorance is bliss, little sister. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
He took my hand, guiding me with him as we continued on. We walked together, all the while knowing that the stalemate between us would have to end at some point. When the time came, I would do whatever I could to make sure it was only me staring down the edge of a blade, and Brann would be free from the consequences of what I had become.
When the opportunity presented itself, I would set him free.
He helped me up and out of the hollow of the meadow, the two of us then continuing on through the woods. We set a brisk but sustainable pace, knowing the inevitable reality was that running day in and day out would never last.
Brann paused, swinging his arm to the side to stop in front of me. It struck me in the chest, halting me immediately as he tilted his head to the side. “Did you hear that?” he asked, spinning to look back from where we’d come.
I froze, a chill sweeping over me as I followed his gaze to the edge of the trees on the other side of the clearing. The gleaming silver of armor shone through them as a horse came into view, the protective metal covering his face and legs like a beacon with the sun on it. The rider atop him bore no expression, no measure of guilt for the terror he’d caused or the violence he would commit if he caught us. He kicked his steed forward, its full height revealed as they stepped onto the path where the Wild Hunt had walked only hours before.
Brann turned to me, his expression filled with fear as he spoke. His words were lost to the sound of the horse’s hooves beating against the ground as it charged toward us, but I read the message loud and clear all the same, and I turned to obey.
“Run.”
10
My boots pounded against the foliage-covered forest floor, my breath heaving out of my lungs as I tried to keep up with Brann’s steady pace. “Hurry!” Brann encouraged, reaching behind him to grab my hand and tug me faster. My feet slipped in the leaves, making me stumble as I looked over my shoulder.
The Mist Guard on our trail was nowhere to be seen, but I wasn’t naive enough to believe that he’d given up the chase when we’d run.
Brann pulled me forward, yanking me through the trees as I fought to get my footing once again. My chest throbbed with the force of my beating heart, my mind focused only on keeping up with Brann so he could get to safety. The Mist Guard wouldn’t hesitate to cut him down for helping me.
I suddenly slammed into Brann—my heart dropping into my stomach, my body feeling weightless as I knocked him over. He sprawled on his belly at the feet of a massive chestnut horse, the rider atop it glaring down at us as I scrambled off of Brann’s back and to my feet.
I spared one last look for my brother as he rose to his knees, hurrying to stand upright as the rider slowly dismounted his horse. The sound of his sword leaving its scabbard rang through the air as he pulled it free, holding it at his side as he took that first step toward me.
I felt his boot strike against the ground in the echo of my racing heart, the sound carrying through the silent forest as Brann pushed to his feet to face the Mist Guard. He was unarmed, his hands clenched at his sides as if he stood a chance against the gleaming iron sword of the other man.