HOW CAN I BE OF SERVICE?” I ASKED MARI AS SHE PUT THE REST OF THE
site together piece by piece with her magic. We needed to camp out in the jungle to avoid the cities filled with Amber soldiers who
wanted our heads. I didn’t mind much, but Mari wasn’t thrilled about it. “Nothing. Just make yourself comfortable. I’ve got it,” Mari said,
folding each tent’s furs and hanging each lantern from the comfort of the tree she leaned against. Two iron pots unpacked themselves and a cluster of metal mugs stacked in midair.
My feet shifted beneath me, and I folded my hands into my blouse. “Are you sure?”
I hadn’t seen Kane in the last few hours. I wasn’t worried about him in war-torn Peridot by himself. I was just antsy. And hot. When would he be back? How long until we hiked for the cavern? How would this blade call to me? We had not even been here a day and already I was sick of my own anxious thoughts.
“What’s Griffin doing?” I motioned to his massive back, hunched over something by the fire.
“He’s actually quite the fisherman.” A slight color had risen to Mari’s cheeks. “He caught some fish wherever he and Kane went. He’s gutting them now. But no cod, of course.”
I tried not to smirk. “Of course. Because you hate cod.”
“Everyone hates cod. It’s bland,” she said, brow furrowed. “Obviously.”
I looked back at Griffin, slowly and methodically slicing the fish into filets. Fish he had caught at Mari’s instruction. I imagined him throwing every cod back in order to please her, and my heart tugged a bit. But he looked as pleasant as he ever did. The meticulous, solitary hobby suited him.
“If you’re looking for a job around camp,” Prince Fedrik said, slipping out from his slightly larger, more stylish tent, his blond hair fluttering in the dappled sunlight, “I was about to gather some firewood. Care to join?”
Mari gave me such a forcefully encouraging expression she might as well have waved a flag overhead that read, Go, you idiot!
“Sure.” I grabbed the axe and followed him into the depths of the rain forest.
After flying past miles and miles of night-drenched, unspoiled, fertile farmland and lush green hills on the back of Kane’s dragon form, I had expected serenity and peace, but this side of Peridot was not nearly as pleasant as Siren’s Cove. It was wild and tangled and verdant. A little overwhelming. I missed that clear blue bay and sparkling pink sand. I wondered if anyone had cleaned up the wreckage that now adorned it. If you could even clean blood from sand. Or if the peaceful waves of Siren’s Bay had taken on the gruesome task, washing away each body, each stain with the restless tide.
“Nervous for tonight?” Fedrik’s words jarred me from the bleak image.
“No,” I admitted, traipsing through roots and vines and little critters that scuttled at our feet. I chose to leave out the truth: that I hadn’t felt much of anything in weeks until my poor choices the other night.
As if reading my thoughts, Fedrik said, “With Crawford . . . That was . . .” He scratched at his bicep. “How often do you end up in situations such as those with your king?”
“Never,” I lied. Fedrik cut a look my way and I cringed before amending, “Occasionally.”
“How did a lovely woman such as yourself end up as the personal healer to a king like that?”
“Dreadful luck?”
When he grinned in response, all his glittering white teeth sparkled in the sunlight. “Your bad luck is my good fortune.”
A smile pricked at my face. It was so easy, talking to the prince. So easy to pretend I really was just a castle healer, my biggest problem the moods of the royalty I served.
“Why not retire from your post? I have some sports injuries; I’ll employ you as my own healer.”
Briefly disarmed, I faltered for a sufficient response. “I wouldn’t do that.
Wouldn’t abandon him. Personal frustrations or otherwise.”
“Well,” he said after a pause, “it’s brave of you to stand by King Ravenwood. To travel alongside him,” Fedrik continued, stopping at a fallen tree and smoothly taking the axe from my hand. “Especially on a risky journey such as this one.”
How funny. I hadn’t been brave a moment in my life for twenty years— crippled by anxiety and worry—and in the span of just a few months I was facing fears left, right, and sideways without as much as a hair raised on my neck.
Fedrik reared back and swung the axe into the supple, mossy wood, splitting the log with one clean stroke. The muscles of his back rippled through his damp white shirt as he struck once more with a grunt and knelt to hand me the split pieces.
“I’m not usually like that,” I said, clearing my throat. “My brother and sister are the brave ones.”
“Really? And you’re the . . .”
I chewed my cheek in thought. “Responsible one?”
Understanding glinted in his eyes. “You and I play similar roles, then. So your siblings, are they actually brave or just reckless?”
“Most of the time Ryder doesn’t understand enough about a situation to realize he should be afraid. And Leigh is too young to know how much there is to fear.” I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them. She had seen now how vicious the world could be.
Sensing the bleak direction my thoughts had taken, Fedrik took my shoulder in his broad hand. His grasp was warm and supportive. Strong and
sturdy like the wood cradled in my arms.
“At the risk of sounding rude . . . when I first met you, you seemed, well
—you seemed a little sad. I’m sorry. For all you and your family have had to endure. If you ever need to talk, I’m around. Healers are too often forced to witness the carnage of battle.”
I wanted to laugh. I was the carnage of battle. “Thank you,” I said instead.
“I have a younger sister, too. I think you met her briefly in Azurine.
Sera?”
“Yes, are you two close?”
“Very,” he said as we sloshed through a patch of mud. “We fight like cats and dogs . . . or maybe wolves and kittens. But at the end of the day, she’s the most important person in the world to me.”
I offered him a small smile that I hoped conveyed how much I related to his sentiments. “So, who’s the wolf and who’s the kitten?”
“Oh, I’m the kitten without a doubt. She decimates me.”
A rare laugh bubbled out of me, and we both smiled at the sound. Something new was blossoming inside me. More than just appreciation for his chiseled jaw and bright blue eyes or the way his kindness toward me irritated Kane. Fondness, like a warm, brewed cup of tea, seeped into my heart. I liked this sunshine prince. Quite a bit, actually.
“I’m sorry about her betrothal to Kane. I know it ended poorly.”
Fedrik shrugged. “It was a blessing. They wouldn’t have made each other happy.”
I rolled my next words around on my tongue, debating whether I really wanted to know the answer. Curiosity won out. “Was part of your objection to the marriage the fact that Kane is . . .”
“An asshole? Or Fae?”
I gave a shallow nod indicating the latter.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think it was strange. I mean, he isn’t human, is he? He would’ve outlived her, outlived their children . . .”
I pursed my lips, nodding again.
“But,” he said evenly, “I’m no bigot. I probably wouldn’t have cared if he had been a decent man.” Fedrik half smiled, though his eyes were forlorn. “But, of course, he wasn’t.”
“Was that why you joined us? To judge him for yourself?”
Fedrik set down the logs in his hands to hack into another fallen trunk. His muscles tensed with each blow and I tried not to ogle the bronze skin of his forearms sparkling with sweat.
“Here,” he huffed, handing me more fresh firewood, and carrying the rest himself. “I wasn’t lying on the beach yesterday. I want Citrine to fight for the side of good, and my parents are more likely to be convinced if we have the blade.”
“You just also don’t know if Kane is good.”
“Good is a general term. Do I think King Ravenwood is a good man? No, not particularly. Do I think his desire to end his father’s reign and halt his conquest of Evendell is honest? Yes. And he’ll need our army to do that.”
I fought the anxiety stirring in my stomach. “But your parents, they refused him.”
“They’re very set in their ways.” “And that bothers you?”
“I’m not afraid of change, like they are. But I am afraid of them.” “So what can be done?”
“If we have the blade, it’ll be hard for them to ignore the fact that King Ravenwood and the Fae from the prophecy stand a real chance. And if we can’t get it, I hope to convince them to change their minds about him as a person.”
A slow breath sailed out from my lips. “I don’t feel Kane has showed you his best side quite yet.”
Fedrik’s lips curled up. “Does he have a good side?”
I tried to answer honestly. “He has a better one, but I don’t expect you’ll see it on this trip.”
“King Ravenwood doesn’t frighten me.”
I almost said he should, but chose only to nod. Better for Fedrik not to know what being Fae truly meant. Not to know exactly what Kane could do to him if he felt so inclined.
“If I may be so bold,” Fedrik said, as if he were mustering some kind of courage, “what is the nature of your relationship with him? I know you are his healer, but . . . he seems a bit possessive of you.”
Oh, Stones.
“He and I . . .” A searing image of Kane’s hand around my waist, pressing me against him in a moonlit alley, jumped into my mind. Maybe partial honesty was the path of least resistance here. “We kissed.”
Fedrik raised his brows. “And now?”
I wanted to tell him I had been asking myself the same question. Partial honesty won out again. “We are working through some of the discomfort. We probably shouldn’t have acted on our mutual attraction.”
“I can’t say I blame him,” Fedrik said, though he kept his eyes on the glossy leaves around us. I still felt heat rise in my cheeks. “And Griffin and Mari?”
“That’s an even more fraught entanglement,” I said, relieved to move on from Kane and me. “Feelings seem to be blossoming right under Mari’s own nose, but I don’t know if she can see them for what they are quite yet.”
“You should tell her as much.”
“I’ve tried. I’m not exactly the pinnacle of romantic success these days. I probably wouldn’t take advice from me, either.”
“And for Griffin?”
“Oh, he’s completely gone for her. Every time she’s nearby he rubs at his chest with a baffled expression. Like, What is this feeling I only get when the witch is around?”
Fedrik laughed like I was an absolute delight, and I beamed at him. “He won’t even refer to her by her name.”
Still smiling, we rounded a tree and stumbled right into Griffin with his fishing gear and a shirtless, sweat-slicked Kane. Griffin’s face was steel. He had clearly heard every word. Kane chuckled low and soft as he leaned over to remove his boots, a small yet shimmering lagoon rippling behind them.
I tried to think of anything but Kane’s body, sweaty, glistening, and soon to be submerged in cool water.
“Oh—Griffin.” I blanched, guilty. “We were only teasing.” “It’s fine.” But he stalked off like it was very much not fine. Kane tutted at me. “Bird, you have such talons today.”
I rolled my eyes. “Me? You torment him more than anyone.” “I challenge him. You’re no better than a bully.”
But I was only half listening. I couldn’t take my eyes off his flexed, shiny, defined abdomen. The deep rumble of his voice . . .
When I finally looked up, Kane was grinning like a wolf.
I wanted to say something rude, but my traitorous mind was still trying to pull its jaw off the floor.
Fedrik responded instead. “Where’s your shirt?”
Kane gestured to the green pond behind him and began to unlace his leathers. “Care to stay for the show?”
“We’ll pass.” Finally, speech had returned to me. “The reviews were terrible.”
“Witty and beautiful.” Fedrik regarded me with a lifted brow. “You might be dangerous.”
“Don’t worry,” I teased. “I’ll spare you.” “And merciful? We’re all doomed.”
“No.” Kane’s eyes narrowed at Fedrik, all humor gone. “Only you.”
That voice carried such lethal promise it sucked all the floral Peridot air out of the jungle and left the lot of us silent.
Fedrik only frowned. “Here, Wen, let me take those logs back to camp.” I smiled primly to hide my grimace as I handed the logs to Fedrik. “Wen?” Kane asked, voice dripping with distaste once Fedrik was out of
earshot.
I bristled. “So?”
“So it sounds like a name for a horse.”
I stared at him dryly. “Bird is a literal animal.” “Fair point.” A grin curled his lips.
“He’s nice,” I admitted. “He doesn’t look at me with pity.”
Kane’s face fell as he brushed one hand absently across his chest. He needed to put his shirt back on immediately. I turned from his broad shoulders—that muscled, tanned chest gleaming—and walked stiffly until I sat myself beside the crackling hearth.
I could have used a cold plunge myself.
 |
**Our campfire wasn’t for warmth** in the humid jungle evening, but Griffin was intent on cooking his fish, and afterward, we enjoyed tea and ale. Before the fire’s glow grew bright enough to attract unwelcome attention, Mari strengthened the protective ward around our campsite.
“As we approach Reaper’s Cavern,” Kane started, while we ate, “I suggest Arwen stand guard outside.”
The fish turned tasteless in my mouth. “Why should I do that?”
Without glancing at me, Kane explained to the others, “Just as a precaution, until we ensure it’s safe.”
“Why?” I pressed again.
“The cave is known to be inescapable,” Kane stated, his voice calm, though his eyes revealed the seriousness of his words.
Mari chimed in, “Legend says you’ll lose your mind before finding a way out.”
A chill ran down my spine. Kane shot Mari a warning look, and she quickly apologized with her eyes.
“I plan to mark our path as we go,” Kane continued. “To ensure we don’t lose our way.”
“Mark it?” I repeated.
“There are stories that say the cave is alive.”
Wonderful. “And the rest of us?”
“I’m confident that a mere mortal legend won’t trouble two Fae and a witch. As for Fedrik’s fate, it’s of little consequence.”
Fedrik nearly laughed, and I might have, too, if anxiety hadn’t gripped me.
“But I am concerned about you,” Kane said, his tone gentle. “And your fear of tight spaces.” He was sincere; I could hear it in his voice.
He genuinely cared. But—
It wasn’t just my phobia he was addressing. It was my significance.
He couldn’t afford to lose the prophesied full-blooded Fae before fulfilling her destiny. Before her inevitable end.
“No.”
“Arwen, it’s not—”
“No. I’m here to contribute.”
“Arwen,” Mari interjected. “Even I’m wary of entering a cave that traps all who enter. Let’s just check if we can exit once we’re in.”
“Must she go inside at all? Can’t she stay at the camp?” Fedrik suggested.
“No, we’re bringing her along for our entertainment,” Kane retorted. “A clever joke, right?”
Fedrik’s face remained stony, and Kane looked equally serious.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’ve spent too long being afraid. Staying outside while you all take risks isn’t something I can do anymore.”
An owl hooted in the distance as Kane took a sip from his mug. “Fine. Your choice.”
I felt my lungs tighten, and Mari gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Jerk.
“What will we use to mark our path?” Griffin asked.
“Why not use petals?” Fedrik suggested, motioning to the plumerias nearby.
Kane’s glare could’ve melted steel.
“I can create a trail of light,” Mari offered. “To guide us back.”
Relief washed over me—a beacon in the darkness. I decided to focus on the present: the well-prepared fish and the company I cherished. As Dagan advised, I’d enjoy these moments while I could.
I leaned back, patting my stomach. “That was surprisingly tasty.”
“I’m flattered.” Griffin tossed his plate toward our gear. The clatter startled a frog into the underbrush.
“It’s probably because there’s no cod,” Fedrik quipped, glancing at me with a knowing look. He’d overheard my earlier conversation with Mari.
Mari laughed. “Exactly! Who likes cod?” “Actually, I do,” Griffin confessed.
Mari rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
Kane’s eyes sparkled in the firelight. “Then why didn’t you catch any, Commander?”
I suppressed a grin.
Mari intervened. “Why couldn’t we stay at Frog Eye?” She tried to get comfortable against a tree’s roots but struggled. “A bed would’ve been nice.”
“We’re fugitives,” Griffin reminded, kicking an empty sack toward Mari, which she propped behind her. “Staying in town would be risky.”
And my face was likely plastered on wanted posters across the kingdom, labeled as a traitor. Fedrik, oblivious to my identity, was also unaware of the mission’s dangers. Guilt and envy warred within me.
“Arwen could handle them easily,” Mari muttered.
“Can you really use a sword?” Fedrik asked, intrigued. I blushed. “I know the basics.”
“Don’t be modest, Arwen,” Mari insisted. “Even Griffin was impressed.”
Kane raised an eyebrow. “When did you two practice?”
“In Serpent Spring,” I explained. “On our first journey to Peridot.”
“She exceeded my expectations,” Griffin added, his eyes twinkling. “But I was quicker.”
“That’s what he said about the woman he tossed from his bed this morning,” Mari teased.
I gaped at her. Surely Griffin hadn’t shared such details with Mari.
“I’m joking.” She smirked. “We all know Griffin’s a virgin.”
Laughter rippled through the group. Even Griffin cracked a smile.
“I should bring her on all my misadventures,” Kane said, trying to stifle his laughter. Mari shot him a mock glare.
My heart warmed. Maybe their friendship didn’t irk me as much anymore.
“Arwen,” Kane whispered. “If you want, I could teach you to beat him.”
“Griffin?”
“Or anyone more experienced.” His eyes glowed in the moonlight. “I’m not Dagan, but I can help if you’d like.” “Thank you.” I swallowed, navigating our fragile truce.
“Maybe another time.”
Kane nodded, his expression serious.
“Thanks for sparing Trevyn,” I offered, extending an olive branch. “For letting me decide.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” he admitted, staring into his cup. “Trevyn was harmless. I didn’t think he’d harm you.”
“You worry about me?” His silence spoke volumes.
“You brought a lute?” Griffin noted as Fedrik rummaged through his bag.
“I thought it might pass the time,” Fedrik said, retrieving the instrument. “But I’m not great.”
“Kane is,” I declared. “He’s really good.” I recalled the night he played for me in his quarters.
Mari turned to Kane. “No way. You?”
A deep laugh rumbled from Kane. “Yes, but it’s been a while.”
“Play us something,” I requested. I meant to be playful, but my tone was earnest.
Kane’s eyes were warm as he took the lute from Fedrik.
“May I?”
Fedrik handed it over, and Kane settled beside me.
He strummed tentatively, his fingers finding their way. His rings glinted in the firelight, especially the silver and onyx one on his left pinky. As he played, the music became a gentle melody, blending with the jungle sounds. I felt it resonate within me, like a familiar story.
I watched his focused face, his brow relaxed, as he played a tune that evoked images of renewal and calm after a storm.
Perhaps I’d had too much ale.
But we all sat quietly as he played. When the song ended, and no one spoke, he began another. A lively tune that brought to mind celebrations and laughter. And another after that. I drifted off to the sound of Kane’s lute, my head resting on the soft forest floor.
