Chapter 29 Kai #2
After several minutes, I reach a fallen oak that splits the path.
Through the curtain of rain, I see the movement I'd spotted from above—a small patrol of humans in Eryndor's forest colors, moving carefully toward the draken field. Five of them, carrying a rune-inscribed box of some sort between them, heads swiveling as they scan the terrain. I don’t like them immediately, and I like that box even less.
If Autumn were here, she could tell me what those runes mean, but even without her I feel an aversion to them on a primal level.
Also, none of the five are Rowan and I’m selfishly glad she isn’t part of that procession. But if she isn’t with the humans—which would be the logical place for an escaping Eryndor alchemist to go—where the rutting hell is she?
I freeze, senses straining. And then I smell it. A scent imprinted in my memory so vividly, that my cock stirs just from getting a noseful of it. Honey and citrus. Sweetness and tang. All contradiction. All Rowan. I stalk toward it. Silent. Predatory. And find that my senses don’t disappoint.
There you are. I bare my teeth at the glimpse of auburn hair partially concealed behind a lightning-struck pine, thirty paces to my right. Rowan is crouched low, watching the humans with an intensity that speaks volumes. She hasn't joined them. She's observing them. But what are you doing?
My pulse steadies, though I dare not examine the relief that floods me.
Instead, I settle into the undergrowth, watching Rowan watch the humans.
I want to trust her. I also want to wring her neck.
Her body is tense, coiled like a spring.
Is she planning to warn them away? To join them once they're closer? To betray the location of the egg?
The darkness inside me flares. Because if that’s her intention, not just to rejoin her people but to hand over the draken youngling… then I’ve made a terrible mistake. We all have.
The Eryndor procession moves closer to the hidden nest and Rowan moves with them, shadowing their movements.
A new flicker of movement catches my eye—not from the humans, but from behind Rowan. Another figure moves through the shadows, body low, approach silent. Even through the rain, I recognize the predatory stalking posture of a wolf shifter.
Dark Wolves.
I don't think. I move.
My dagger leaves my hand before I've fully processed the threat, spinning in a clean arc. It spears the shifter in the eye, felling them onto the soft ground. I'm on the cultist in three heartbeats, hand clamped over their mouth. Logan aside, wolves hunt in packs, and I’d rather the others didn’t catch on for a few minutes yet.
Blood trickles along my fingers, hot against the chill. Recognition flares as I look into the shifter's face—Viera's underlings, Celeste, a servant who'd vanished after the ritual attack on Rowan.
"Quiet," I hiss, pressing my dagger to her throat. "You're already dead. The only choice you have is how painful the last minute of your life will be."
Celeste's eyes gleam with manic fervor, not fear. “Hello, princeling.”
“Why are you stalking Rowan?”
“I wasn’t. That’s just an… incidental boon. Gift from the goddess.”
“What’s your mission then?”
She smiles, teeth red with blood. “The Flurry fae… Slate fae... You’ve gone soft. Don’t have the stomach to do what needs doing.”
“What needs doing, Celeste?” I ask quietly.
“The humans must die. No mercy. No quarter. No… no sticking your cock into their cunts.”
Well, it doesn’t get much clearer than that. More blood slithers down Celeste’s face, and I know I don’t have much time left. “Why let Eryndor get this far then?” I ask. “You must have seen them on the trail. Why did you not do what needs doing?”
Celeste smiles, teeth stained red. "We did.” She draws a gasping breath. “How… else would the imbeciles be here?”
"You led the humans here.” It’s not a question. "You're working with them."
A wet, rattling laugh. "Not with. Through. They're... tools."
My blade presses deeper. "Why?"
"The fae grow soft." Celeste says again. I’m not sure she is even aware that she’s talking to me. “Negotiations. Hesitations. Words." Her face contorts with pain and disgust. "We tire of waiting... a catalyst. That will set things right."
Understanding dawns, cold and terrible. "The egg."
She nods, eyes gleaming. "Once the humans take a draken youngling... there will be no more talk of words. No more brides. No more politics. Every clan, every riot, will rise as one. We will end them.”
"You would sacrifice a draken hatchling?" It’s too horrid to contemplate, even for me. And I contemplate many horrid things as a matter of course.
"Necessary sacrifice." Her breathing falters. She doesn’t have much lucid time left. "The humans will destroy themselves... when the full might of the fae is unleashed. We just needed... to wake everyone up."
“Who is we? Who else is here?”
Celeste grins.
“Tell me.” I shake her, but it’s no use. Her remaining eye has already gone glassy, fixed on nothing.
Still kneeling on the ground I close my eyes, letting my senses expand through the forest in search of others. Dark wolves. Humans. Anyone. For a wood that was supposed to be empty, it seems to be thoroughly crawling with vermin of every kind.
Except I needn’t have bothered to concentrate, because Rowan’s scream cuts through the canopy.
“Stop!” Rowan yells again.
I break into a run, barely having the foresight to open my mind to Ulyssus.