A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)

He’d found me.

Grae sheathed his sword, and the look in his midnight eyes broke me. Both our expressions warred between anger and relief. So many unspoken words floated in the dusty air between us. So much pain, but even when it was directed at him, I knew the only person I wanted to comfort that torrent inside of me. Grae. Always Grae.

In two strides, he was before me, pulling me into a tight hug. That bonfire scent wrapped around me as he pulled me tighter into his hard leather. The action cracked me open, the sorrow bleeding from me worse than any wound.

His lips dropped into my hair and he murmured, “Are you okay?”

I nodded into his warm chest, my arms snaking around his back despite myself. I’d lost my sister, I’d lost him as my friend, and now that his arms were around me, I indulged in that brief moment of comfort, of relief, before the reality coursed through me again. “I could’ve taken them.”

“I know.” His voice was thick as he gave me a final squeeze and released me. Examining my face, he scowled. He held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes skating over my older wounds—my bruised eye and split lip, both clearly not from this fight.

His growl was a feral promise. “Who did this to you?”

I stepped out of his touch and his hand lingered in the air before dropping to his side. I remembered that moment in the forest again. It hurts not to touch you.

“I handled it,” I said, taking another step back as if the distance might settle the burning urge to reach for him again.

His lips twisted up. “I’m sure you did.”

“Who are these people, Calla?” Ora’s voice was a shaken whisper.

I looked between Ora and Grae, realizing Sadie and Hector stood amongst the bodies as well. They didn’t wear their royal uniforms, no crest carved into their weapons. Instead, they wore simple black fighting leathers, though they were still armed to the teeth. Their clothing told me enough: they weren’t here at King Nero’s behest.

“This is, um.” I glanced at Ora. “This is Gr—”

“Graham,” Grae said, extending his hand out to Ora. “Calla’s husband.”

My eyes flared for a split second before I schooled my expression. Of all the lies he could come up with, of course he picked that one.

“And them?” Ora nodded to the others.

“They’re part of our troupe,” I said, frantically grasping for an explanation. If the others knew we were Wolves, it would mean trouble. “I sing, um, and they . . .”

“Play music,” Hector offered, wiping his sword on his leg and stepping over a body with such a casualness that Ora’s mouth fell open.

They scanned him from head to toe, eyeing the belts of daggers around his meaty thighs. “Oh? And what instruments do you play?”

“I’m a . . . flautist,” Hector said.

Sadie snorted, and her brother gave her a glowering look.

Ora raised their brows at me, waiting for a better answer.

“Okay, fine,” I said with feigned exasperation. “This is my crew. We were planning on meeting in Olmdere because we heard there were crovers to be made for anyone good with a sword.”

Ora chuckled. “Now that I believe.”

My shoulders dropped at the sound of that laugh. They’d believe a lie as long as it was a carefully crafted one. We didn’t look like musicians, but mercenaries . . . I looked at Sadie, picking her bloodied fingernails with her throwing knife. That was a credible lie.

“We got separated along the way and I decided to head toward Olmdere on my own.” I shrugged. “I’d hoped I’d find them there.”

“Holy ebarvens,” Navin’s voice called as he dashed up the trail. “What happened?” His haunted face scanned over the bodies.

“Nothing holy at all. Rooks,” Ora said, picking up my discarded blanket and dusting it off. They wrapped it back around my shoulders and Grae took a half-step toward me. “Calla saved me.”

Mina and Malou darted across the street, holding armfuls of rocks. “This was the best we could do,” Malou panted. “By the time we got back, it was clear we weren’t needed.” The rocks thudded to the ground around her feet and she clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re a beast, Calla.”

“We helped a little,” Sadie added. Everyone’s eyes turned to her and she sheathed her knife back in her belt.

“That’s Sadie.” Hector tipped his head to his sister. “I’m Hector. We’re part of Calla’s crew.”

Calla’s crew. I liked the sound of that.

“We can’t stay here.” Ora frowned at the bodies strewn across the road. “More Rooks will come swarming through Nesra’s Pass when they hear what happened.”

“Curse the Gods,” Navin grumbled, wandering through the carnage. He stooped and pulled one Rook’s mask down, looking upon their face for a long time before moving to the next one. His body seemed to float from one to the next, hollow and vacant.

“Why are you doing that?” Sadie asked as he crouched before the last Rook. A strange sort of sorrow clouded his expression as he stared at the last Rook’s face.

“They were people,” Navin murmured. “Desperate people, but people still. They deserve to be laid to rest.”

Sadie paused, considering him for a moment, before walking over and grabbing the feet of the Rook she had just killed. “Come on. It’ll be easier than you dragging them.”

Navin’s eyebrows shot up as he regarded her. “Thank you.”

He grabbed the Rook around the shoulders and they carried the body to the side of the road.

“Hector,” Sadie snapped, his name a command, and her brother joined in.

They piled the bodies in the ditch carved into the road by heavy rains.

“Are you still riding with us?” Ora asked, turning to me.

“Yes,” I said at the same time Grae said “No.”

I glowered at him and he returned the look—an entire conversation passing between our eyes. I knew he thought traveling with humans wouldn’t be safe, and I knew we’d be safer with them.

“We can give you a ride into Taigoska,” Navin offered, giving Sadie a soft smile as he dusted his hands down his vest. “You saved Ora’s life. It’s the least we can do.”

Malou scanned up and down the steep road, landing upon their three leather backpacks. “Where are your horses?”

“We came on foot,” Grae said.

“On foot?” Malou’s cloudy gray eyes widened. “You were planning on crossing the Stormcrest Ranges on foot?”

“Yes.” Grae narrowed his gaze at me. “We were eager to catch up to Calla.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I’d told him not to follow me. Their grueling trek this far was their own damn fault.

“I’m not walking across the ranges when we have the offer of a ride,” I gritted out.

Pushing Grae felt like walking a knife’s edge, and I knew one more little nudge and he’d relent. I glanced back at Galen den’ Mora. It was filled with warm beds, good food, and curiosities from every stretch of Aotreas. Hiking to Olmdere would be exhausting and take ten times as long.

“May I speak with you privately?” Grae rumbled.

“No, you may not,” I snapped back.

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