EVERYTHING WAS KILLING ME. MY HEAD, MY HEART, MY EYE SOCKETS.
It was worse than those excruciating days on the ship sailing for Citrine when Arwen could barely look at me, and I had wanted to
throw myself overboard for lying to her. I had known I was bad for her then.
Now I knew I was terrible.
“You broke my heart.”
Each time I pictured her saying the words, I drowned in a fresh onslaught of misery. And I had almost fucked her—her first time, too—in some nondescript Azurine alleyway. Fucking deplorable.
I hated myself for all of it. I’d never stop.
And somehow, reliving last night’s misery wasn’t even the worst part of my day.
“What are we waiting for?” Mari whined as she trudged past me through the uneven sand.
I couldn’t seem to place another foot forward, my eyes glued to the capital city as the sunset painted the sandstone and pearl.
Arwen was staying in Citrine.
I had hoped Dagan might convince her otherwise, but I hadn’t heard from either of them all day. And after what I’d done to Crawford . . . I couldn’t afford to stay in the city a minute longer. The royals would put the pieces together soon enough.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, though Mari was out of earshot.
I couldn’t blame Arwen. It was probably safer here. Though, I might argue she was always safer by my side than anywhere else on the continent. But her family was here, and I understood why she didn’t want to be anywhere near me. Let alone traverse enemy territory together hunting for a blade that was most likely already in Garnet hands.
I had asked Griffin to stay here and keep an eye on her. I trusted Dagan with my life, but he wasn’t Fae. With Lazarus after Arwen, I needed Griffin or myself with her at all times. Knowing that he would watch over her while I searched Reaper’s Cavern was a small mercy. One I probably didn’t deserve.
Griffin, though, was miserable about it, which was yet another reason for my splitting, acute headache. He claimed he didn’t want me to find the sword alone, to risk death and dismemberment—but I knew the truth. I had to take the witch with me, and it was ripping him apart to be away from her. Clearly, I knew the feeling.
But he’d never admit such things to me, so he just grumbled through the day in a foul mood that matched my own. The two of us sniping at each other like a crotchety old couple until Mari and I headed off.
Calm waves rocked slowly against the wooden dock behind me and the many ships it held, the sun setting but still high enough in the sky to cast a warm glow against the back of my neck. Mari looked positively morose as she read over King Eryx’s parchment one more time before casting the breathing incantation on the both of us. She said the spell with so little energy, the magic barely kicked up the sand around her feet.
“Perhaps you need some hair of the dog?” I offered.
Her blistering eyes were like coal on mine. Not even a hint of a smile.
“Come now, witch.” I tried to salvage the mood for both of us. “We’ll be there and back in no time.”
“Will we pop out of the funnel back into the middle of the ocean?” “Pretty much.”
“What if our ship is gone? Lost to pirates or battered by a storm?”
“It likely is,” I said as we walked toward the cavern. “But we won’t need a ship.” I leaned toward her conspiratorially. “Dragons can fly.”
Nothing. She just pursed her lips and stalked forward, mind elsewhere.
Arwen would have liked that. At one time, back in Shadowhold, had I been truthful with her, we might’ve laughed together over my beastly, winged side. I could have shown her the Shadow Woods from the clouds. My favorite view—
“Wait!”
Hope clouded my vision at that familiar voice, ringing through the quiet sunset-draped harbor. I twisted to see Arwen running down the dock onto the beach below, long chestnut hair swaying around her, dressed in her leathers and with a small pack at her side.
“Wait,” she repeated, sand kicking up at her heels, only a little out of breath as she caught up to us.
“Hello, bird.”
She regarded me thoughtfully, her gaze searing along my jaw, my lips. If she noticed I had shaved, she didn’t say so. “I’m coming with you.”
Mari’s entire mood shifted, as if the rain cloud above her head had transformed into sunshine with Arwen’s declaration. “Oh, thank the Stones!” she said, throwing her arms around her friend. I wished I could do the same.
“And that means . . .” I didn’t even have to finish the sentence.
Griffin tramped onto the beach, deliberate as always, though his eyes held a subtle brightness. He had gone from a glorified babysitter stuck in a foreign city without his friend or his woman, to a man on an adventure with the only people in this world he even remotely liked. I would call this version of Griffin almost gleeful.
He gave me a single nod and I swiped a hand down my face to hide my grin. “And then there were four.” I glanced sidelong at Arwen. The setting sun was radiating off her rosy cheeks. “What changed your mind?”
“Dagan did. Ryder and Leigh will be safe here with him and Barney. I think Ryder wants to learn more about our war strategy, so I told him to stick close to Amelia and Eryx. It’s what’s best for them. And this is what’s best for me.”
Pride swelled in my chest. Brave as ever, and thoughtful, and determined
—
“Good,” I said.
We resumed the walk toward the darkened cavern, Griffin at the front,
Mari slightly behind him, and Arwen in step beside me, a few paces back. “So, who will watch over Shadowhold?” she asked. “With Dagan here?”
A half smile curved at my lips. Perhaps she still cared for the keep. For my home.
“We sent word to Lieutenant Eardley after the battle of Siren’s Bay. He has the Onyx army divided among my largest cities, the palace in Willowridge, and Shadowhold.”
Arwen stayed silent, mental wheels clearly turning.
“By now my father must know we made it to Citrine. I’m less concerned about Onyx falling than I was that day in the Shadowhold gardens.” I swallowed against the memory. I’d stared at her face then like a lovesick teenager and battled every instinct, every bone and fiber in my body, not to touch her. Not to kiss her. I had gone and done it anyway, of course, like the selfish bastard I was. You are bad for her, my mind chanted on repeat.
“How come?” she asked.
“Our army is the fiercest on the continent. Beating them would cost Lazarus many of his men. He lost at least a hundred due to a certain powerful Fae outburst. And he knows Onyx would never bow to him the way Peridot has. He only wanted to take Shadowhold to get to me . . . and you. But now we’re here.”
“Except we’re going to be in Peridot.”
“Right. But he won’t know that. Not if we keep a low profile.”
“Right,” she said, eyes on the grains of sand moving under her feet. “Good.”
The ocean lapped pleasantly against the sandy shore. I wouldn’t have too many more opportunities to say this in the coming days in such close proximity to Griffin and Mari. I braced myself and stepped in front of Arwen, cutting us both off.
“Arwen—”
“Don’t.”
I swallowed thickly. “I just want to say one thing.” “What part of don’t is confusing to you?”
That smart mouth. I tried not to think of our kiss last night. Of her hurried lips on mine. Her hot hands in my hair. My fingers itched to reach for her, so I clenched them into taut fists at my sides.
“You were right,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. She pursed her lips, waiting for me to continue.
“We shouldn’t be together. It was wrong for me try, after . . . Just know I will never lie to you again. I care for you and . . .” I shook my head. “The point is, I’m sorry for yesterday. For everything. I’m not going to harass you anymore. Or kiss you anymore.”
It was all true. Every inelegant word of it. I wouldn’t hurt her again, and I’d change my behavior to ensure it. No more depression beard. Or depression drinking. No more flirting. Fighting. Impromptu kissing . . .
“Kane—” she began. “Wait up!”
We both whirled around at the eager voice, only to see Prince Fedrik bounding toward us.
Dear Gods, he was carrying a pack.
“Wow, Arwen,” he said once he reached us. “You look beautiful.” “Fedrik, we’re right in the middle of something.” Leave. Now.
“The king and queen have requested I join you on the expedition for the Blade of the Sun.”
“Sorry. Team’s all full. Better luck next time.” There was no world, no reality, where I brought this imbecile along with us so he could insult me and ogle Arwen for the next few days.
“You’d be wise not to fight me on this one, King. Even your advisor Sir Dagan agreed to my joining the expedition. Despite your clear lack of morals and piss-poor personality, you and I actually want the same thing.”
I would have some very choice words for the old swordsman when I returned. “And what might that be?”
“Without our army you have no shot against Lazarus, and if you lose, we all do.”
“Your parents will not risk their people, nor their resources.”
“If I deliver the blade to my parents, it’ll be hard for them to argue against the odds. They only want to know our win is assured.”
“Broderick and Isolde don’t think I’m capable of retrieving the sword myself?”
“Their words were more along the lines of, ‘We don’t trust him for shit.’ ”
Arwen’s melodic, playful laugh and the bright smile he shot her in return made me feel insane. But he could have told his parents what I’d done last night. And he hadn’t. If he thought there was a chance they could be convinced to utilize their armies on our behalf, I couldn’t refuse him. “Fine. It’s going to be a miserable journey. I hope you like to get your hands dirty.”
Fedrik grinned. “I’ll fare all right, though I’m touched by your concern, King Ravenwood.”
“Kane’s fine.”
“I reserve that kind of familiarity for people I actually like.”
And with that he strode forward, sidling up next to Mari and Griffin, leaving Arwen and me alone in the sand.
A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes as she said, “This is going to be great fun.”
 |
WE FLEW THROUGH THE NIGHT UNTIL WE REACHED PERIDOT. WHAT HAD TAKEN
eleven days by tumultuous sea took Griffin and me only one evening in the silent skies.
The trip gave me a chance to clear my head—as flying often did. This . . . jealousy . . . was new to me. When Arwen once harbored feelings for Halden, it had been rage bellowing through my bones. I knew he was a
murderer, a liar, a manipulator. I would have rather had anyone else be the object of her affections. I would have rather had it be fucking Barney.
But this wasn’t that same icy, slithering thing that bit through me then. Familiar, from when my father abused his own people. Or when I had been betrayed by those closest to me, or defeated by them. Not that same temper that was always right there under the surface of my skin, snarling and begging to be set free so I could demolish and destroy.
No, though I had imagined crippling Fedrik a thousand different ways, each more creative than the last, none felt remotely satisfying. And not because I didn’t truly wish to injure the prince—I really, really did. But because this wasn’t rage at all—it was grief.
I would not be able to endure her with someone else. I wasn’t strong enough. I had never been strong enough to lose her.
And even if it wasn’t him pursuing Arwen, that’s exactly what would happen. She was beautiful beyond comprehension, fiercely loyal and compassionate, and had the biggest heart of anyone I had ever met. As long as she lived, there would be no shortage of men who wished to be with her, and eventually she would reciprocate those wishes.
What mattered now was not what those thoughts did to me, but finding a way to give her a chance at actually making such a life with someone.
To take my mind off the mountain of odds stacked against my success, and the pain I’d feel regardless of whether I succeeded, I thought of Shadowhold, and how pleasant it would be to return one day. I had been away too long already, and missed the keep terribly.
Not just Acorn or my dusty library or my quiet study with my childhood chess set.
Not just the ample silence, the way nobody spoke to me unless I wished them to, or the peculiar majesty of the Shadow Woods.
I missed the feeling of being home.
Once we were soaring over enemy territory, we swooped low, flitting through the humid tree cover to avoid any prying eyes or watchtowers. The blanket of night helped, too, but day was breaking, and now that Peridot
was overrun by Gareth’s men, we couldn’t risk the Amber soldiers seeing us. It was time to shed our creature-forms.
I swung my tail toward Griffin to signal our descent.
We landed amid a deep, shadow-shrouded jungle. Even though the sun was rising, the trees above were so dense they swallowed up nearly all the dawn light. The air was wet, and each breath felt like steam in my lungs. If it was this humid in the early morning, I shuddered to imagine what the unfiltered afternoon sun would bring. My claws squelched against an equally damp forest floor covered in tangled vines and emerald moss.
Arwen and Mari had been sleeping, but landing shook them awake and they dismounted still cloaked in a thick layer of slumber. Fedrik tramped onto the muddy ground as well before Griffin and I shifted back, grateful for the spells from childhood that kept our clothing intact.
“Where are we?” Mari asked.
The palm and nut trees around us had trunks the circumference of small homes and waxy, bright green leaves that dripped dew and moisture like rain. Amid the varied palette of greens were splashes of vibrant color— oblong pale blue fruit, spiked pink flowers, yellow moths with wings larger than my outstretched palm.
“We’re a few miles outside the town of Frog Eye.”
“Are we near Siren’s Cove?” Arwen asked, and I suppressed a frown at the expression bare on her face. The regret in her eyes over the capital’s siege.
“No, we’re on the other side of the kingdom. Not nearly as affluent over here, and mostly populated by pirates, sailors, and smugglers who roam the Ocean of Ore a few miles west.” I tramped past two monarchs, tangled in flight. “So be careful, and no stupid plans.”
“Stupid plans? You can’t be talking about us.” Arwen gestured to herself and Mari.
“Amulet heist, Shadow Woods wolfbeast disaster, Halden escape scheme . . .” I counted on my outstretched fingers as I recalled each harebrained plot. “Need I go on?”
“The Shadow Woods wolfbeast disaster was all her.” Mari pointed to Arwen.
“Traitor,” Arwen muttered, though her lips twitched.
“Dare I ask what a Shadow Woods wolfbeast disaster entails?” Fedrik asked Arwen, nudging her playfully.
“No,” I snapped before walking away from them and deeper into the jungle, cautious not to trip on any roots or vines, which covered the forest floor like snakes.
I heard Arwen gently assuage the prince and I marched farther through the symphony of chattering monkeys and exotic birds.
“More or less than three days before I decapitate him?” I asked Griffin as I slapped at a greedy mosquito getting plastered on my forearm.
“That’s a wager I’d prefer not to win.”
He was right. If Fedrik had any chance of convincing his parents to fight alongside us, he was worth something to me alive.
Behind us Arwen’s laugh rang out alongside the resonant hoot of a toucan. I squinted into the tangle of trees above us for the creature— anything to avoid watching Fedrik make her smile—but only made out a kaleidoscope of leaves, like stained emerald glass. The morning sun was already beginning to filter through, and the heat brought moisture to my back and neck. We couldn’t hike now and risk heatstroke. “Shall we go find a lagoon while we wait for nightfall? I’m already sweating like a pig.”
Griffin sighed, looking back at the rest of our party. “Do we trust Fedrik to protect them?”
My eyes landed on our group, setting up camp. Mari ordered Arwen and Fedrik to hold a canvas tarp higher, and then even higher still, and then more to the left, and then even more to the left. I cut a glance to my friend
—his eyes on the witch were almost pained.
I wondered how long Griffin would let his aversion to intimacy stop him from pursuing her. The fact that he’d not had a single romantic relationship since I’d known him told me not to hold my breath. Still, witnessing him struggle with his duty to protect his king and his urge to never leave Mari’s side was wretched even as a bystander. “Fine. Stay with them.”
“No way.” Griffin’s brows pulled in with distaste. “I’m coming with you. Someone has to have your back. You’re the king of Onyx—I think you forget it sometimes.”
The whirl of earthy wind pulled our attention back to the campsite, and we watched as all three tents built themselves with ease. The canvas grew taut, bags and packs emptied themselves, and pallets unfurled next to a laundry line, which strung itself between tree trunks. A thin chalk outline drew itself around our tents and campfire. Mari murmured her spell, copper hair flying about her face, until the dirt and leaves settled and we beheld a well-furnished campsite.
Mari appraised her handiwork, lovingly grazing Briar’s jewel around her neck.
“You think there’s any chance that amulet has the kind of magic she thinks it does?” Griffin asked under his breath.
“No,” I said. “Not that I know of.”
“It’s messing with her head,” he muttered. “She’s too attached to the thing.”
“Nice work,” Fedrik said to the witch.
“Oh, it’s nothing. You two needed the help.”
“What’s the white circle?” Arwen asked, looking at the boundary Mari drew.
“A cloaking ward. Our camp won’t be visible to anyone outside the chalk. Like Amber soldiers, bounty hunters, bandits, pirates, wild jungle cats, Lazarus—”
“That’s enough, thanks.” Arwen swallowed hard. “I see the value.” Mari smiled sheepishly.
“Don’t worry,” said Fedrik. “I can protect you from at least three of those.”
“My hero,” Arwen replied with a sweet smile.
My gut twisted, and I moved for the tree line. I needed a cold body of water.
Or a stiff drink.
