The days flew by.

It was strange—I was inarguably in the worst situation of my life. I could die at any moment if we were discovered. And yet, for the

first time in twenty-two winters, I felt…free.

It was as if I were a puppy, gamboling through the forest. We were heading in the opposite direction of the city, a fact that terrified me. But Marth had pointed out that taking such a route could help. It was likely that the northern gates were more heavily guarded.

I had a feeling Marth was telling me what I needed to hear. But I’d accepted that I had no control over this situation right now. At least, that was what I told myself.

The mercenaries were still closed-mouthed about where they were going and why. But they certainly weren’t on a mere errand, as I’d assumed. No, from their hushed conversations and the tension that seemed to radiate from all of them—especially Lorian—wherever they were going and whatever they were doing was significant. I itched to know what it was.

I was also desperate to know more about their power. I knew they had more magic than I’d ever seen before, but they rarely talked about it, even

when encouraging me to use my own. Although, one night–after drinking too much ale by the fire–Marth had told me a few details about his magic.

While Mama’s visions could strike at any time, Marth could control his, specifically looking into a target’s past.

A very helpful skill for a mercenary.

I’d asked him exactly how far into the past he could look, and he’d shrugged. Obviously, I wasn’t to be trusted with that information.

Then Lorian had sat next to us, and I hadn’t bothered asking Marth anything else.

Rythos had an easy charm that could’ve been annoying, but he was the one who constantly coaxed a smile out of me when I would drift into the fog of fear and dread. His wide grin made me want to smile back, no matter how lost in worry I was.

Cavis was a quiet man, prone to staring dreamily into the distance— likely thinking of his family. The only time he truly came alive was when he spoke of his wife and their daughter.

And Galon? He was the oldest. Intensely loyal to Lorian, and continually evaluating potential threats, his gaze forever scanning the forest. He’d explained his power last night—he had an affinity for water. The day he’d dried my clothes, he’d pulled each drop from the fabric with just a thought.

Putting my safety in their hands was difficult. Even if I’d likely be dead by now if I were alone. With no other choice, I rode with them each day, slept next to the fire each night, and practiced my magic at every opportunity.

So far, that practice had been in vain.

In spite of the uselessness of my power, I was almost…enjoying myself. Of course, I still wanted to stab Lorian—enough that Galon had taken to searching me for weapons each night before we went to sleep.

These men might be untrustworthy, but for now, at least, I could be myself. I didn’t have to hide the spark of power that wanted to jump out into the world. It was as if I’d been holding my breath for all these years, and with one long exhale, I could breathe freely once more.

It wouldn’t last for long. As soon as I got to the city, I’d be hiding once more. The thought made a hot ache sweep up my throat. But for now, at least, I had a taste of what life would have been like if I didn’t carry this secret.

And that taste was delicious.

“What are you thinking?” Lorian’s voice was low, almost intimate, and I barely suppressed a shiver as his warm breath caressed the shell of my ear. I stiffened and shot him a glare.

The obstinate man merely tightened his arm around my waist.

My thoughts were still my own. And Lorian was entitled to none of them. “I’m thinking about my magic.”

“Good. Perhaps if you think hard enough, you’ll figure out how to wield

it.”

I tensed. “Your teaching methods leave much to be desired.” “I take offense to that.” Amusement curled through his voice.

“You told me everything I knew was a lie, refused to tell me why, and

threw rocks at me!”

Each practice session had been a repeat of that first day. And each time I asked just what he’d been referring to when he’d called me ignorant, he’d shrugged and suggested he’d maybe be willing to tell me once I was useful for more than just decorative purposes.

His body moved behind me as he shrugged those enormous shoulders. “You’re not trying hard enough.”

I had to learn how to wield my power. Because I knew Lorian well enough to know that if he didn’t think I was ready, he would camp in the forest near the city walls until he decided I could be trusted at the gate. The sooner I could use my power, the sooner we could go our separate ways.

A cool breeze was coming from the north, bringing with it the smell of rain and newly cut pine. The sun had gone down, and I shivered, sucking the cold air into my lungs. “We’ll need to find shelter soon.”

“We’re stopping at the next village for the night.”

My mouth went dry. Villages meant people who would be on the lookout for anyone they could hand over to the king’s guards. Even the most kindly innkeeper could be bought for a hundred gold coins.

“Is that safe?”

“I’ll keep you safe.”

He said it casually, and I just shook my head with a laugh. Sure, I was trusting him with my safety to a point. But if he thought I would just blindly believe his word, he was insane.

I could practically hear the brute grinding his teeth at my instant dismissal. But if he thought I was going to forget about him leaving me to

either freeze or burn to death, he could think again.

I pulled the hood of Galon’s cloak over my head as the village came into view. Night was already falling, and my stomach had awoken at the thought of a proper meal. My body longed for a real bed, even if it was only for one night.

Rythos disappeared to see if the closest inn had rooms available.

My heart pounded like a drum. My vision narrowed. I watched every face, paying careful attention to anyone who looked at our party for too long.

And yet, no one seemed to notice us. Their gazes flicked past us, and a few gave us a nod of greeting. But no one called for the authorities.

“You don’t need to be afraid.” “I’m not.”

Lorian snorted.

“Why would I be afraid, when I have so many big, strong men to protect me?” I simpered when I could unclench my jaw.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Was that what you were doing in my village when I saw you at the Gifting ceremony?” I asked. “Staying at the inn?”

A long silence followed, as if he was debating whether to answer. Finally, he nodded. “Your priestess insisted on even more blather than most.”

Rythos returned. His expression was morose when he rode back toward us. “Only two rooms available,” he said with a deep sigh. “It’ll be bedrolls on the floor for us.” He gestured to the other men.

“We’ll arm-wrestle for the bed,” Lorian said, and Rythos just rolled his eyes.

“Why waste the time when you’ll trounce every one of us?”

What exactly were they talking about? “Surely if we’re all spread over two rooms, it won’t be that bad.”

Galon scowled at me. “You can’t sleep in the same room as us.” “Why?”

He just gave me a look that said he was doubting my intelligence.

“I’ve slept next to you big lumps every night on our journey. Why would being confined within four walls make it any different?”

Rythos shook his head. “That’s not how they think in towns closer to the city. You’d get a reputation…”

I shook my head at him. “I’m a criminal who will be on the run for the rest of her life. Such ideas are useless.”

Lorian tightened his arm around my waist in the infuriating way he did when he had a decree to make. “Regardless, it would draw attention. The men will share, and you will have your own room.”

If they wanted to suffer, then who was I to stop them? Besides, maybe some privacy would be a good thing. I could reevaluate if working with the mercenaries was in my best interest. And if it wasn’t? An inn was a good place to separate.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The inn was located on the outskirts of town—the peeling white paint seeming to glow in the moonlight. The two-storied building boasted a thatched roof, a crumbling picket fence, and a huge wooden door with a brass knocker.

A drunk stumbled out of that door, laughing uproariously, and I flicked my gaze to the surprisingly large stable situated next to the inn.

People were coming and going, stable hands taking horses from those arriving. Once again, no one paid us any attention.

I slid off the horse, my knees twinging as I hit the ground. Lorian handed the horse off to one of the grooms with a few murmured words, and the others did the same. Within a few minutes, we were walking into the inn.

The warmth of the inn hit me, finally warming bones I swore were still half frozen from that god-awful river, and my eyelids immediately grew heavy.

Someone let out a screaming laugh. I jumped, gazing around blearily, and Lorian placed his hand on my lower back. I suspected he was attempting to calm me the same way he would calm his horse directly after he’d startled.

I didn’t know whether to be offended or amused.

To our left, a fire roared. Its sparks escaping the hearth, the orange-blue light from the flames flickering on the faces of those dining at the scarred wooden tables. The tables in the center of the common room had been wedged so close together, it was as if everyone was dining as one big family.

Considering I was in hiding, I would much prefer a dimmer room and separate tables.

In the corner, the barkeep was boiling a cauldron of stew. The steam from the huge pot made its way over to me, carrying with it the scent of fresh-baked bread and some kind of gamey meat. My stomach howled.

Lorian took my arm and directed me to a table near the back of the common room, where he sat positioned with his back against the wall. I was too tired to protest the manhandling, and I slipped into the chair next to him, keeping my cloak over my head.

I tuned out the conversation as the men murmured to one another. My eyes must have slid closed, because a nudge from Lorian’s elbow had them shooting open. Rythos smirked at me. “Sleepy?”

Someone plonked a bowl of stew and a cup of ale in front of me. I handed the ale to Rythos. I’d never gotten a taste for it. Now, wine, on the other hand…

I drank the last of my water, the warmth of the room and salt in the stew stoking my thirst. Tucking the skin back into my cloak, I got to my feet. Lorian’s hand immediately caught my arm in that enchanting way he did, which never failed to make me feel like his prisoner.

“Where are you going?”

“To get water. Release me,” I ground out, suddenly frustrated. I was almost desperate with thirst, and the sooner I finished my stew, the sooner I could crawl into bed.

Lorian let my arm go, and I crossed the inn, aiming for the barkeep. He nodded when I asked for water and pointed me toward a pitcher and several cups. I took a cup, relatively sure the men would much prefer their ale.

Still, I probably should have offered. I turned, slamming into a giant chest.

“Well, lookee here.” The man grinned at me maniacally. The lower half of his face was almost completely covered in a dark-gray beard which he’d let grow down to his chest. His hand shot out, pushing the hood of my cloak off my face. With my cup in one hand and my reflexes dull from weariness, I was too slow to stop him.

“We have a wee beauty in our midst. Where did you come from, lady?” I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. Without my hood over my head,

I felt naked. Would he recognize me?

I forced my voice to stay steady. “Nowhere you’ll know. Let me pass.”

“Now that’s not nice. That cloak is made of a fine material. Your dress could use a cleaning though. I’d be more than happy for you to drop it onto the floor of my room to be laundered—”

“Move,” a low voice ordered.

I glanced past the bearded man to where Lorian stood, his irritation clear. Our eyes met, and my face burned. The next time I wanted to walk ten paces away from him, he would likely refuse, like the tyrant he was.

The unfairness of it all made my hands shake with fury. Some of the water sloshed over the side of my cup, and Beard dropped his gaze.

“Now see what you’ve done? You’ve frightened the little bird.”

Lorian followed his gaze. Then his eyes met mine again. He knew I wasn’t frightened.

“Move, or I’ll move you.” The words were flat, but I’d seen Lorian take that exact stance right before he trained with his men.

Beard spun on Lorian, his movements unsteady. I stepped back, but his elbow knocked the water out of my hand. I watched as my cup fell to the floor.

Perfect.

“Now, don’t you be causing a scene.” Beard swept his arm around him to the people watching in a way that made it evident he relished the thought of a scene. “I was just saying hello to your traveling companion.”

Lorian watched him silently. His expression was blank, but those green eyes were filled with an icy rage.

When he didn’t reply, Beard reached out both hands to push him. Lorian was standing in front of him.

And then he wasn’t.

He moved so fast, my breath caught in my throat. Stepping to the side, he lashed out with methodical precision, avoiding the man’s punch and slapping him across the face.

The crack of the slap carried through the inn, and all I could hear was the sound of witnesses sucking in a breath.

I sighed. Slapping the bearded giant was a calculated move. Lorian wanted to humiliate him.

Beard bellowed a garbled threat, swinging again, but Lorian was no longer there, his expression bored. I blinked. I’d never seen anyone move like that. It was as if he had the power to stop time.

He slapped Beard again.

“Lorian,” I growled. This was just drawing more attention. If he didn’t stop, someone would call the authorities. Lorian glanced at me, and his green eyes flashed. But some of the languid fury drained from his expression.

Beard stumbled. Lorian took a step back and crossed his arms. Beard’s hand came up to his nose—now crooked and bleeding.

Lorian had broken his nose with that second slap.

“Leave,” he said. His voice was so quiet, I had to strain to hear it, and I was just a few feet away.

Beard spat on the floor. “Whore,” he hissed at me.

I curled my lip at him but managed to keep my mouth shut.

Lorian took a single step toward Beard, and he stumbled back, turned and fled. I slammed my hand into Lorian’s chest. “Enough.”

His gaze dropped to my hand, and when his eyes met mine, they were still feral. I glanced at the people watching us, and Lorian slowly turned, raking his gaze over the room. Everyone suddenly found other things to look at.

My eyes burned.

“You’re hurt?” Lorian’s voice was rough.

I shook my head, and to my intense embarrassment, a tear threatened to spill over. I sniffed.

“What is this?” His eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to hurt him some more?”

“No, I don’t want you to hurt him some more,” I hissed, my eyes drying. “I’m upset because the water spilled, and I wanted that water!”

He cast a disinterested look at the water on the floor. Then he glanced back at my face. “After everything you’ve been through since you left your village, this is what makes you teary?”

“I’m exhausted, you brute.”

With a sigh, he stalked over to one of the barmaids, who immediately handed him a fresh cup and an entire pitcher of water.

Typical.

I stalked back to my seat, digging into my lukewarm stew. The group was silent, and I raised my head. “What?”

Lorian placed the cup in front of me and filled it with water. I gulped at it. The water was cool, and it soothed my dry mouth and throat. Rythos glanced at him and quickly dropped his gaze back to his food.

“Nothing.”

“We haven’t seen you cry before, that’s all,” Marth said. “We wondered if maybe you were on your woman time.”

I snarled, but Lorian clamped his hand on to my arm, leveling a warning look at both of us. “Quiet.”

I spooned up more stew, taking the extra piece of bread Lorian slid me.

It felt almost like a silent apology.