I stood in the common room of the inn, blinking again and again, as if, eventually, the scene in front of me would change.

The bearded giant who’d tried to kill me was currently hanging

from a hook. Dead. The hook had been attached to the ceiling of the inn, near the fire. His teeth were broken, and a key had been shoved between them, glinting in the low light.

I would bet all the money in the hunter’s purse that it was the key to my room.

The innkeeper stood frozen, several feet away from the body, his face so pale, it was impressive he was still on his feet.

Beard hadn’t had an easy death. The skin around his neck was mottled and bruised, highlighting the cut I’d made in his neck. But that hadn’t been what killed him.

No, that was likely the fact that his hands were no longer attached to his body.

I wasn’t sure exactly when Lorian had killed him—he would have done it himself, rather than sending one of the others to do it—but he’d either

taken care of it last night right after I fell asleep, or he’d hunted him in the small hours of the morning.

The floor felt as if it were tilting beneath me. Nausea swelled in my gut, and my mouth had turned bone-dry.

“This was unnecessary,” I managed to get out.

Next to me, Lorian stiffened. I glanced at him. He was watching the innkeeper, his gaze still filled with retribution.

Something told me the man wouldn’t be passing out drunk without securing his spare keys ever again.

“It was completely necessary.”

Sometimes when I looked at Lorian, I didn’t recognize him. The man in my dreams had been approachable, like a sated tiger. The Lorian I’d first met had been all languid amusement and put-upon boredom. This Lorian looked wicked and wild, his eyes glowing with a strange, feral light.

He looked back at me, and I shivered.

Whatever he saw on my face made that light leave his eyes. “We’re leaving. Now.” He turned and prowled out the door.

Good. We needed to leave before someone decided to call the authorities.

A crowd was gathering around the body, many of them shooting terrified glances in our direction. This would draw attention. The kind of attention that was dangerous.

The thought clawed at my temper, and I stalked after Lorian. The others had already saddled up the horses and were waiting. I tensed as Lorian reached for my waist, and that muscle ticked in his jaw again. “You think I’m going to hurt you?”

“No.”

His expression hardened. And then I was in the saddle. He was careful not to touch me as he reached for the reins.

“We got you a couple of dresses, a tunic, and some breeches from the market,” Rythos said. “The boots might be a little big, but they’ll be better than what you’re wearing now.”

My eyes stung. I hadn’t dared to hope I’d get a chance to find some clothes. “That was so kind of you. Thank you.”

“Our deal included clothes,” Lorian grumbled in my ear. I ignored him.

All of us were low on sleep, and Lorian was in a particularly dark mood for the rest of the day. We were approaching the Gromalian border, and if

there were no delays, we’d complete whatever task Lorian needed by tomorrow morning.

Soon, I’d be in the city and on a ship south. If the border itself hadn’t been so heavily guarded, I could’ve traveled into Gromalia by land. But the king had set up numerous checkpoints on his side of the border, ensuring the corrupt couldn’t escape. A ship was safer and could get me farther south.

I hadn’t thought about what my life would be like when I started somewhere new. Truthfully, I didn’t want to. But as soon as I got to the city, I would find Vicer. He could send Tibris a message in our code. We had a number of places to send such messages to. Surely Tibris would be waiting at one of them.

Sometimes, when I woke up and realized I wasn’t at home with Tibris snoring in the next room and Mama safe in her bed, I wondered if that grief would drown me.

We stopped to water the horses, and Lorian sent Cavis to scout for spies or enemies or whoever it was they were watching out for.

I jumped off the horse before Lorian could help me down. He’d practically vibrated with rancor all day, and neither of us had said a word to each other.

Now, he leaned close, until I was trapped between his body and his horse.

“Last night was the second throat you’ve slit within the past few days, sweetheart. Not to mention the guard you pushed off that bridge.” I felt the blood draining from my face, and he gave me a humorless smile. “Of all of us, you’ve been the most murderous lately. Perhaps you should think twice before judging us as savages.”

My gaze found Marth’s. He shrugged, but his face was slowly turning red. Of course he would’ve looked with that power of his. Likely at Lorian’s order. Betrayal twisted my gut, and for a moment, my hands shook with it.

But Lorian was right. Not counting the way I’d contributed to the bearded giant’s death, I’d killed two other men since I’d left my village. I’d even used the knife I’d stolen from the hunter to stab the bearded giant.

Lorian watched me. His eyes narrowed, and with a low curse, he turned and stalked away.

My feet were numb, and I stumbled as I made my way to the river. A half-rotted log lay a few foot-spans from the water, and I sat on it, rubbing at my throat.

I’d stared in the mirror at the rope burn this morning. The truth was, if not for the power I didn’t understand—and the mercenaries who’d been kinder than I could have expected—it would’ve been me hanging in that inn this morning.

A branch snapped over my shoulder. I jumped at the sudden sound but continued staring at the water. “I want to be alone.”

Of course, the giant brute ignored me. Lorian sat next to me on the fallen tree trunk.

If he refused to leave, then I would. I made it to my feet before he snagged my wrist and hauled me back down.

I hated him.

He let me chew on my wrath. We both watched the water. “That man deserved to die,” he said.

I glanced at him. His jaw was tight, brows furrowed. He truly didn’t understand my reaction. If anything, he seemed…bewildered by me.

I frowned. One morning, Herica’s cat had strolled into the bakery, a dead rat in its mouth. It had dumped the rat on the floor, gazing at Herica as if to say, “You’re welcome.”

Herica had screeched, chased the cat out with a broom, and buried the rat behind the bakery, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and fury.

The cat had stayed away for weeks, until Herica had burst into tears, wishing he’d return.

The way Lorian acted sometimes, it was as if he’d forgotten his humanity. Leaving a weaponless woman to die was a good example. He made life-and-death decisions so easily, always from a place of logic, depending on if it would help him with whatever task he was being paid to complete.

And yet, the only reason I could see for him to kill Beard—especially so violently—wasn’t from logic at all. No, it had been rage that had driven his actions.

I couldn’t imagine the things he’d seen as a mercenary. The things he’d done. Maybe in his mind, killing the man who had hurt me was almost like a…gift.

“I shouldn’t have thrown that in your face,” he said finally.

It took me a moment to understand what he was talking about.

A hole opened up in my stomach. “Why not? I did kill two men. Violently.” As much as I’d hoped the guard on the bridge had been rescued the way I had, it was unlikely he’d survived the freezing river.

He rubbed at his jaw. His hand made a rough sound as it scraped against stubble. “Because you’re a survivor. It’s not fair for me to tell you to fight as if your life depends on it and then verbally flay you for it when you do.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I see their faces. Every night when I try to sleep. I wake from dreams—”

Enough. That was enough.

Lorian turned until he was facing me. I kept my gaze on the river.

“It won’t last forever,” he said. “The first few times you kill, the guilt consumes you. Even if the kill was justified.”

“And then what happens?” I whispered.

His expression turned cold. “And then you become numb to it. It’s an animal instinct. Either they die, or you do.”

“I don’t want it to become easy. I don’t want to become a monster.”

Like you.

I didn’t say it. Didn’t even think it. But from the way Lorian stiffened, that was what he’d heard.

He moved. Turning, I grabbed his hand. I didn’t have a hope of pulling

him back down, but he went still.

“Thank you. For teaching me. I want…I need to survive. For my brother.”

We were all each other had. Thanks to me, Tibris had just lost Mama. I would fight to find him again. Even if he couldn’t forgive me.

Lorian studied my face. “Don’t survive for anyone else. Survive for yourself. Survive because the thought of not surviving, the thought of letting those who would hurt you win, is so repulsive, you can’t stand it. Survive because you deserve to survive.”

I thought about that. After a long moment, I nodded. He angled his head.

“Time for another lesson.” “I don’t think so.”

“I do. And I’m bigger than you.”

Standing, I leaned closer until I was right in his personal space. “I’ve killed two men since Galon saved me, remember? Just looking at you

makes me murderous. So don’t make me try for a third.”

Had his eyes just dropped to my lips? Awareness shot through me, even as I stepped back. His huge hand closed around my upper arm.

“As cute as your little death threats are, right now, you have no way to back them up. You want me to fear you? Learn how to freeze me in place. Because that’s the only chance you have of taking me down. And we both know it.”

He was right. That didn’t make it any easier to accept.

Lorian’s green eyes gleamed as he angled his head. A lock of his dark hair fell over his forehead, and for a wild moment, I had to clench my hand into a fist so I wouldn’t do something stupid like brush it back.

He’d probably rip my hand off the wrist if I attempted such a thing. One dark eyebrow quirked. “What are you thinking about?”

“My power.”

His gaze turned intent. But if he knew I was lying, he chose to ignore it. “You used your power last night. It saved your life. But we can’t rely on

your instincts reaching for that power when we get to the city.”

He dropped his gaze to my throat, and his expression hardened. Then his face went blank. That expressionless mask had never boded well for me before.

“Take your mind back to the moment you realized that man was going to kill you.”

I didn’t want to. But I tried.

“Close your eyes,” Lorian said softly.

The clearing was so very quiet. I had a feeling Rythos and the others had disappeared for a while so I could focus. I could feel Lorian’s eyes on me. Could feel his expectation.

“You’re not remembering it,” Lorian murmured.

My eyes flew open. He’d taken another step closer when I wasn’t looking. A strange kind of anticipation turned my skin hot and my belly tight.

“Close them,” he said.

I sucked in a breath, tense and annoyed for reasons I couldn’t explain. But I closed my eyes again and forced myself to think about the bearded man and the rope in his hand.

“Good,” Lorian said when I shuddered. “Now keep that image in your mind.”

I opened my eyes to see a small stone flying at me. The bastard had backed up a few steps again.

“We’re back to this?”

“You need to feel fear in order to use your power. Visualize the man who tried to kill you.”

I tried, but Lorian was too damned distracting with his intent expression and his stupid stones. Not to mention, most of the time when I thought about the bearded man, my mind showed me the way I’d seen him last— hanging from the roof of that inn, his body reflecting unspeakable damage, and the key he’d used stuck between broken teeth.

“You’re not trying,” he said mildly.

“I am.” It wasn’t my fault he’d removed any and all threat that the bearded man had previously presented.

Lorian’s expression turned colder. Remote. It was the same way he’d looked at me when I’d been lying next to the river, coughing up water. That expression told me that he didn’t see me as a fellow human. I was just a problem that needed to be addressed.

Back then, Lorian had left me behind. I knew he wouldn’t do that now.

After all, he needed me. Somehow, that knowledge made it worse.

“I didn’t want to do this,” he said, pulling Beard’s rope from the pocket of his overcoat.

Black spots danced around the edges of my vision, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears. All I could feel was the rough rope around my neck. All I could see was the sick grin on Beard’s face when he told me how he was going to hang me up.

Lorian stepped closer, and I reacted like a hunted animal, jumping a foot-span to my left. My hands shook, and I held them up in front of me defensively. Uselessly.

He was so fucking big.

My throat constricted, and I almost choked on my next breath.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Show me you can use your power, wildcat.” He leaned down and threw another stone. It bounced off my thigh. He held up the rope. My mouth turned dry. I backed up a step,

stumbling over the rocky ground.

Obviously, we were wrong. Terror didn’t help me use my power. If it did, that rock would be hanging frozen in the air.

Lorian followed me.

“Don’t come any closer,” I hissed.

All life had left his expression. He looked inhuman, his eyes glittering with an ancient knowledge.

I blinked, and he was Lorian again, his brow creasing. But he took another step. Turning my body, I prepared to run.

He moved so fucking fast. Screaming, I turned toward the clearing.

Rythos and Marth appeared to my left, hands on their weapons.

Lorian’s hand grabbed the back of my tunic, and the rope brushed my shoulder.

I went wild. Lashing out, I fought like a cornered cat, hissing and clawing and howling.

“Use your power,” Lorian gritted out, but I couldn’t. I was nothing but terror. Terror and betrayal.

“Prisca.” Lorian’s voice was a dark warning. I was choking myself with the neck of my tunic. Dimly, I realized he wasn’t moving, but I was also rooted in place, my feet kicking up dirt and stones.

The feel of the rope on the side of my throat was what did it.

A pit opened inside me. A pit filled with endless rage and icy vengeance. A scream burned up my throat, and something deep in my belly roared its wrath.

Rythos was running toward us, his mouth open as he bellowed at Lorian.

I pulled, desperate, hiccupping a sob. The world froze.

Rythos paused midstep.

I wouldn’t let time unfreeze until I was miles from these men. Until I was on one of their horses and several villages over.

My terror was married to fury in a way I had never felt before, and I could feel my power coiled within me. This time, I memorized the feeling.

I tore myself out of Lorian’s grasp. My tunic ripped, but I was already pulling the rope from his hand and throwing it into the river. Then I hauled my foot back and slammed it between his legs with everything I had.

I was running when the grip on my power slipped.

Rythos was still frozen. But Lorian’s vicious curses told me he now felt that kick. Dark satisfaction wrestled with grim determination.

Suddenly, Rythos was moving, and his eyes were wide as he came to a stop. To him, it must have seemed like I’d shifted places between one

moment and the next.

“Keep him away from me,” I choked out. “I’m leaving.”

Rythos glanced past me, and his expression turned grim. For some reason, Lorian had shaken off my power earlier than Rythos. But how? I chanced a look over my shoulder to find Lorian bent almost in two, breathing through pain that likely would have driven a lesser man to his knees.

I should have kicked him harder.

Grabbing my cloak, I reached for my boots and sat on an overturned log, pulling them on. Marth strolled along the clearing. “You try to leave, and he’ll just drag you back. You made a bargain.”

“Fuck his bargain.”

Marth grinned at me. I debated throwing my boot at him. His grin widened, as if he was reading my mind.

“Don’t give him the satisfaction,” he advised. “Lorian takes his deals seriously.” Marth glanced over my shoulder, and I turned, my gaze meeting Lorian’s.

Something vicious looked out at me. But a dull pride replaced it, and I wished I could turn back time and hurt him much, much more than I had.

It wasn’t that I enjoyed terrifying women. But usually, it wouldn’t occur to me to want to soothe one. Especially after I’d been the one to scare her.

For some unknown reason, I’d felt…guilt when Prisca’s eyes had turned stark with horror.

“I think she should ride with me,” Rythos muttered. We were both watching Prisca as she refilled her water skin, her mouth tight as she pretended I didn’t exist.

“You overstep.”

“You just terrorized her.”

“You wish to fuck her? Fine. But I’m the one teaching her how to survive. Don’t forget that.”

I walked away, feeling like there was an itch beneath my skin, and no matter how much I scratched, I couldn’t make it go away.

“We’re leaving,” I told Galon. He merely nodded. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You have something to say?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You should be careful with that one. Rage can simmer for years before it explodes into vengeance. As you know. She could have killed you in that moment when she controlled time.”

I should feel threatened by that. But for some reason, all I felt was a strange sense of…pride.

We saddled up. Prisca rode with Rythos, allowing me to focus on my upcoming meeting, and not the curvy ass she insisted on rubbing against me each time she shifted uncomfortably in the saddle.

The fact that I missed that curvy ass just darkened my mood further.

It had been far too long since I’d taken a lover if my body was fixating on the wildcat. As soon as I finished with our task, I would find a willing woman and rid myself of this need.

Time crawled by. All of us were silent—Prisca scowling into the distance—while I focused on the forest around us. This close to the Gromalian border was bandit territory. We had to be careful not to get much closer or we’d run into Sabium’s checkpoints.

Finally, we came to the edge of the forest. The air seemed fresher here, or perhaps that was just my anticipation sharpening my senses.

Scrubland stretched out before us, much of it hidden by a thick mist, the fog lit gold by the rays of the setting sun. The wind that washed toward us carried the smell of soil and wild flowers.

“We’ll stay here tonight.” I slid off the horse. Prisca jumped off Rythos’s horse next to me, and I caught the twinge of pain on her face as her feet hit the ground.

If she didn’t want my hands on her, she could deal with the consequences.

I scowled at her, ignoring the vicious look she sent me in return. And the way Cavis shook his head at us. Given how everyone was reacting, it was as if I’d actually wrapped the rope around her neck and strung her up.

I’d paid the price for helping her with her magic. My balls still ached enough that I was grinding my teeth with my every movement. “You can thank me for my lesson whenever you’re ready,” I said.

Prisca held up her hand in a lewd gesture that made Marth snort a laugh. That wariness when she looked at me…it would make our lessons that much more difficult. Regardless of what she’d managed under intense

pressure, she still couldn’t use her power reliably.

Finding someone with her power had been a boon. If one believed the gods had a stake in our world, it would be easy to credit them with the fact that Galon had saved her life. Her power presented us with a unique opportunity I refused to let pass me by.

Beyond that plan was one simple fact—the thought of Prisca being a victim in this world was quite simply intolerable. Especially considering she carried the potential to never be a victim again.

Rythos got to work building a fire. From the look he sent me, my meat would be black tonight. Prisca sat next to him, murmuring quietly, and I shook my head at Marth when he attempted to take my horse.

“I’ll do it.”

I busied myself feeding the horses, ignoring the way Prisca and Rythos whispered together at the fire.

Finally, Galon and Cavis returned with the rabbits they’d caught. With nothing left to do, I sat on one of the overturned logs Marth had pulled close to the fire, pulling out my blade to sharpen it.

“What’s your magic, Rythos?” Prisca asked a few minutes later.

Rythos hesitated, and I struck. “Didn’t you know, wildcat? Rythos has the power to make you like him.”

Something that might’ve been hurt flashed in Rythos’s eyes as Prisca turned an accusing look on him. “You— I—”

“No,” he snarled. “I’ve never used my power on you.”

Doubt crossed Prisca’s face. Strangely, the chasm widening between them didn’t make my mood any brighter.

Gods, I was a bastard. From the narrowed-eyed look Marth sent me, he was thinking the same. It wasn’t often that Rythos’s smile dimmed, but I’d made it happen.

Now everyone else was as miserable as me.

Prisca looked at me. And then she reached for Rythos’s hand. Her skin was so pale next to his. They looked like they belonged together.

“It’s okay,” she told him, her gaze still on me. “I believe you.”

He smiled at her. My hand tightened around the knife I was sharpening. “How does your magic work?” she asked.

The rest of the night crawled by, with Rythos mixing truths in a way that impressed even me. At one point, our eyes met, and his expression turned defiant.

I just raised an eyebrow. Marth nudged me, while Cavis ignored all undercurrents, likely lost in thought about his perfect family. Galon watched all of us, expression bemused. I couldn’t blame him. Traveling with a woman had changed everything. And not for the better.

Finally, we crawled under our blankets. Prisca was close to the fire, and I positioned myself next to her, hoping it would irritate her. From the blistering look she sent me before rolling over, it did.

I couldn’t help it. I watched her as she fell asleep. Just when my own eyes were becoming heavy, she jolted awake, panting. Something that might have been guilt tightened my gut. Was she dreaming of me chasing her with that rope? For a moment, I had the strangest urge to pull her close. To soothe.

She rolled to face me, likely feeling my eyes on her. I didn’t bother pretending to be asleep. Her eyes slid to the blue mark on my temple and stayed there.

“Nightmare?” I whispered. It was strangely intimate, talking to her by the fire while the others were asleep.

She shuddered, and for a moment, I almost pulled her close until she stopped trembling.

But she was already blinking, long, slow blinks as if she was fighting sleep. When her eyes slid shut for the last time, I wondered if the solitude would eat me alive.

Then she spoke. “I used to see you in my dreams,” she mumbled. “Now all I see is the men I’ve killed.”

I stiffened. “What?”

But she was already asleep.

I’d never been this far from home before. Of course, that was going to change, just as soon as I got to the city and on a ship. But for now, I soaked up everything, ignoring Marth’s teasing as I turned my head from side to side.

The forest had given way to yellow and green bushes, brown grass, and tall, thin trees that reached into the sky with gangly limbs. It was so…open here.

And we were being watched.

My mind kept providing me with images of the king’s guards surrounding us, lying in wait, ready to attack.

I wasn’t the only one who could feel eyes on us. The mercenaries had turned tense, quiet, speaking only when necessary. I kept my mouth shut, my hand occasionally straying to the dagger I’d stolen from the hunter.

It was too large for me, but the feel of the wooden hilt brought me comfort just the same. Galon no longer took it from me before I slept. He seemed to know just how much I’d come to rely on it. And maybe he was finally convinced that I wouldn’t kill Lorian in his sleep.

Lorian must have recognized where we were, because he brought his horse to a halt and dismounted, his hands sliding to my waist as he hauled me to the ground with him. He’d insisted on my riding with him today, and I’d taken one look at the frozen wasteland in his eyes and known I wouldn’t win that argument.

His eyes met mine, his hands still on my waist. “You’ll stay here with Galon,” he said.

To Galon’s credit, he didn’t sigh. Although, he didn’t look pleased. “Not smart to split up.”

“We won’t be long.”

“I would like to come,” I said. Lorian just shook his head.

Grinding my teeth, I glanced at Marth, who shrugged. “It’s so if you’re tortured, you can’t talk about what we’re doing.”

Lorian let out a sound that might’ve been a growl, and Marth smiled, turning his horse.

Now I really wanted to know what they were up to. It was the first time I’d seen them tense with anticipation, and I was almost desperate to know why.

It was my turn to smile. Because, thanks to Lorian, I’d be able to do just that.

During his little game with the rope, I’d finally understood where my power lived. And I’d practiced with it over and over while we rode today, only able to achieve a couple of seconds at best while I focused on the terror I’d felt over and over since I’d fled my village.

I had no plans to tell the mercenaries I could now summon my magic until I absolutely had to.

Lorian had reminded me that the only person I could trust was myself. And if he’d known just how often I’d frozen time today, he wouldn’t be looking so calm and assured.

He glanced at me one last time, and his eyes narrowed. I attempted my best bored expression, but from the way he studied my face, I didn’t succeed.

“Watch her,” he told Galon.

Galon heaved a sigh but nodded, giving me a look that said he would not be tolerating any games.

I waited with Galon while the others disappeared down the trail. I had to time this carefully. Too soon, and Galon would know what I was doing. Too late, and I’d miss their little meeting.

Crossing my legs, I shuffled in place a few times, sighing occasionally.

When Galon threw me an irritated look, I shrugged. “I need to duck behind a bush.”

Galon hunched his shoulders. Of all the mercenaries, he was the most uncomfortable whenever he was reminded that I was a woman.

“Fine. Don’t take long.” “It’ll take as long as it takes.”

His eyes widened, my cheeks heated, and we both glanced away.

I strode toward the slightly taller bushes near one of the strange, thin trees. My breath quickened, and I turned toward the trail Lorian and the others had continued down.

Glancing over my shoulder, I surveyed Galon. He was leaning over, checking his horse’s shoe.

I wasn’t going to get a better opportunity.

My sneaking skills hadn’t improved much since the night I’d found the mercenaries in their clearing. Perhaps I could convince one of them to teach me their skulking ways before we reached the city.

Once I was far enough away from Galon, the dense bushes made it easy to hide. I dropped to my hands and knees, wincing as I scraped them along sharp sticks and stones.

The trail climbed up a small hill, and I followed it until I heard voices.

My magic came to me easier than it ever had before. During the long day of travel, I’d discovered that finding and using my power wasn’t the challenging part. No, the part that felt almost impossible was holding the thread of my power in place for longer than a few seconds.

Taking a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders and pulled on the power inside me. My skin went hot, and the bird above my head froze in place, wings spread in preparation to fly.

I shuffled forward, well aware that this was where my control was the weakest. If I wasn’t careful, time would resume while I was still getting into place.

But I was lucky. I released my hold on my power, and when the bird trilled a few foot-spans behind me, I was perfectly positioned above the mercenaries, crouched behind a thick shrub. I peered down, my heart thudding harder in my chest.

Lorian, Rythos, and Marth were standing in a tight group, clearly waiting. Cavis stood a few foot-spans away, surveying their surroundings. I ducked my head.

But not before I caught movement.

I leaned around the bush once more. Two men were approaching, and Lorian’s rough growl reached my ears as he greeted the visitors. Both wore cloaks, their hoods covering their faces, and I frowned as one of them handed Lorian a glass vial. He slipped it into his cloak pocket with a nod.

Rythos said something that made one of the men laugh, and then they both turned. The cloak slipped off the stranger closest to me, and my lungs seized up.

His ears were pointed. Fae.

A cold sweat broke out on my neck, and my vision speckled. The mercenaries were working with the fae.

Truthfully, I shouldn’t be surprised. The whole point of being a mercenary was doing not-very-nice things for the kind of people willing to pay in gold.

But…

Something broke in me at the thought of them working with the fae. The very creatures who’d terrorized our kingdom for so many centuries. The reason our king had to bargain with the gods in the first place.

If not for the fae, I might’ve grown up as a normal child. All of us villagers would’ve been able to keep our magic. There would be no Taking ceremony, no Gifting ceremony…

Tibris would likely have much, much more magic. We all knew the gods kept the majority of our power. Without Tibris’s sacrifice, would our father still be alive?

Fury warred with the terror, and I jolted back into motion. I needed to get back to Galon. Marth’s comment about holding up under torture made much more sense now. What would Lorian do to me if he knew what I’d seen?

I crawled back down the hill. Galon was already calling for me. Brushing off my hands on the underside of my shirt, I sauntered back toward him.

“Sorry, took a while.”

He turned red. I no longer cared about potential embarrassment. I was too busy turning away to pace.

This whole time, Lorian had kept the upper hand in all our negotiations. He knew I still had my power, that the king’s guards were hunting me, that I hadn’t seen twenty-five winters.

Now, I had information on him.

Just how useful was that information? Was it useful enough to bargain with the king for my own safety?

My stomach roiled at the thought, but I shoved the guilt down deep.

The fae. I didn’t know how they’d managed to get into our borders, but they were a threat to everyone in this kingdom. Buried beneath my rage and shock was a sliver of grief I couldn’t seem to kill, no matter how much I tried.

I liked Rythos, with his charming smile and small acts of kindness. I liked Marth, with his lewd humor and devotion to Lorian—even if that devotion had allowed them all to know just how many men I’d killed.

I liked Cavis, with his dreamy eyes and stories of his wife and baby. And I liked Galon, who’d saved my life and never once asked for his cloak back.

I didn’t like Lorian, but I could at least see the wisdom of keeping him alive.

They returned, and I attempted to look bored. Lorian took one look at me and snarled, his gaze taking in the dirt on my knees and the scraped hands I tucked behind my back.

He obviously knew I’d been up to something.

Surprisingly, he didn’t say a word. That, more than anything, was what made true fear shudder through my body.

I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.