Chapter Thirty-One
Réalta Avermont
My forest hideaway swallowed us whole as we raced across roots and rocks. Curved trunks began to straighten as we left the safety of the Rainbow Woods, a new hope fluttering in my heart for peace after this war.
As we raced on, my mind drifted back to the countless summers of my childhood spent in Burns—the city just outside these woods.
Each year, my mother brought me to this hideaway for picnics, pretending that it was only the two of us in the world, and that anything we imagined or dreamed here could come true.
That was why I summoned Skylar and Daxton here: the idea of an alliance and eventual peace in Valdor was my greatest dream.
Thank the gods they had escaped.
Branches clawed at my cloak, the night itself seeming to breathe hot and alive against my neck. Every heartbeat pounded in my ears, not mine alone, but Wyndfall’s and a handful of our trusted soldiers too. Their footsteps were heavy and sure behind me as we ran.
Commotion from the unknown soldiers chasing us echoed louder against the open night. They were somehow gaining on us, tracking us through the dark. Hunting me.
“Left!” Wyndfall said in a piercing command as we dove into the underbrush.
Branches and brush tore at the sleeves of my gown, but I didn’t dare make a sound. The royal guard chasing us had split into three companies. I could hear them on all sides, closing in on our location as we ducked into cover.
Wyndfall turned toward his soldiers. “Scatter to confuse them. I’ll stay with the princess.” A signal horn sounded from the west, followed by another from the ridge. “Hurry. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point at the northern edge of the lake.”
Our soldiers obediently scattered in groups of two, leaving Wyndfall and me alone. As we continued onward through the dark forest, voices boomed off to the side, signaling that some had split off to follow our false lead. But the main group still trailed us through the thickening forest.
And all because I dared to break away and do what I believed was right.
My foot caught on a root, and I stumbled, knee scraping against the dirt. My dress was torn, and mud was now in my hair. Wyndfall skidded to a stop and reached to help me up. He hauled me back onto my feet without slowing, his breath fogging from the exertion.
“Keep moving, Princess. If they reach the river before us, we’re done.”
“Let’s not let a muddy skirt slow us down, then.” Pausing our trek, I reached for the healer’s dagger Isolde gave me and sliced the ruined hem of my gown. “Better?”
“Better.” He chuckled. “Let’s go.”
A flash of torchlight split the trees ahead.
We ducked low, hiding behind a fallen log slick with moss.
I forced my legs to stay still as we knelt in the muddy water pooling under our hiding spot.
The smell of smoke and horse sweat filled the air as riders thundered past. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to quiet my breathing, praying they would continue along the game trail we abandoned.
“Circle back and search the clearing!” a voice said, one I knew all too well. Avon, captain of the hunters, was following us. “We’ll find them.”
Gods above, no wonder they were still on our trail.
When the hoofbeats and sounds of voices faded, Wyndfall touched my arm. “We need to move. They’ll sweep back.”
I nodded, but my limbs trembled as I rose. The forest blurred at the edges as exhaustion pulled at my remaining strength. Still, if we stayed here, we were as good as dead.
We reached the river moments before the next horn sounded. Gods, how was it closer this time? The faint glow of torches weaved between the trees behind us as the rustling of wings echoed over the canopy.
“Go!” Wyndfall urged, plunging into the shallows. The water was icy, biting through my boots and stinging my bare legs under the skirt of my torn dress. We waded across, each splash a betrayal of the silence we desperately tried to achieve.
Then, a feral growl sounded behind us, more monstrous than any living thing I’d heard in my mortal life.
“What is that?” I asked in a rasped whisper.
“I’m not sure,” Wyndfall said. “It’s nothing I’ve heard before.”
Panic fluttered in my chest like a caged bird. “Whatever it is… I don’t want to find out. We need to get out of here, Wyndfall!”
“The water will help conceal our scent,” he said. “Hold your breath and dive beneath.”
Inhaling, I plummeted under the frigid surface. My lungs seized at the temperature as I kicked my feet along the bottom to swim a short distance to the other side. I didn’t have time to panic or go into shock. I needed to swim. I needed to survive.
When we reached the far bank, I broke through the surface, soaked to the bone, but still alive.
Wyndfall grabbed a handful of river mud and smeared it across my sleeves and neck. The cold grit shocked me, but I didn’t flinch. It was nothing compared to the waters we crossed.
“This will help.”
I nodded, sighing internally. Not even a week-long bath would be enough to feel clean again.
After picking up what remained of my skirt to wring out the excess water, we started running again, keeping to the shadows. Above us, stars beamed brightly against the blackened sky.
“Thank the gods for the new moon,” Wyndfall said. “The lack of light will help us.”
“But not for long. We need to head for the village,” I said, pointing to where faint smoke curled on the horizon. “They’ll think we’re still in the forest, heading south to the coastline.”
He looked at me, his face streaked with dirt, eyes hard as stone, as he nodded in agreement.
We reached the first thatched roofs as dawn began to awaken in the sky. Chickens stirred in coops, dogs barked, and the smell of damp earth wrapped around us like a cloak on a cold day.
“Stay here,” Wyndfall whispered, scanning the quiet road. “We don’t know if—"
“They are my people,” I cut in. “They won’t harm us.”
The people of Burns had always been kind to me. Even after my mother’s death, I still visited this city each summer, bringing gifts to the people who farmed crops for our kingdom. They were loyal to me.
“Your kind heart will get you killed, Réalta.”
“Glad you’re here then to make sure it doesn’t.”
For a heartbeat, I thought I saw pride flicker in his eyes.
“Fine, but we take cover on the outskirts for now.”
We hid in an old stable behind the mill. For hours, we listened, searching for signs of the distant rumble of riders fading, the echoes of those chasing us growing faint. When all fell silent and the alpenglow of the coming morning appeared, Wyndfall finally exhaled in relief.
“Seems they’ve lost our trail,” he said. “We’ll wait till dark before we move again.”
I desperately needed to stretch my legs and wash the layers of dirt from my face. Peering through the slits in the walls, the old well out back appeared to be unwatched.
“I’ll only step out for a moment,” I told him, and before he could protest, I slipped through the broken stable door.
The dawn mist curled around the village, soft and silver. Children’s laughter drifted from somewhere unseen near the city center. The sound was so gentle it almost broke me. For a moment, peace seemed possible again.
Then, it all came crashing down as I heard the whisper of steel springing free.
A pair of soldiers appeared on either side of me, and I was forced to my knees in the dirt. A calloused hand gripped the back of my head, wrenched my hair, and lifted my face to the rising sun. I gritted my teeth against the sting of pain as his hand twisted in my hair, but I refused to scream.
Blinking back my tears, I saw Wyndfall standing a few paces away with a knife gleaming at his throat as two men held his arms. Behind him, holding the blade, half-shadowed by morning fog, was a male with haunting golden eyes.
I recognized him immediately—Gilen. The former alpha of the Solace pack.
He looked every inch the predator I remembered him to be. His hair was wild and tousled, eyes sharp, power rolling off him in shallow waves that brushed against my senses.
His voice was calm, bordering on amused when he spoke, “You think I don’t know her scent?” he said, pressing the blade in and drawing a thin line of crimson from Wyndfall’s neck. “You think I don’t know exactly what you were doing in those woods—and who you were meeting with?”
“Gilen…” I breathed, my voice quivering with fear for Wyndfall’s life. “This isn’t what you think.”
He smiled, but it was anything but kind, a flash of teeth without an ounce of warmth.
“Oh, Princess,” he said with a deep, sadistic laugh. “Lies are unbecoming of you.”
The village was silent but for the sound of the river and the thudding of my heart against my chest. I met Gilen’s stare and found no comfort in his eyes.
The blade gleamed against Wyndfall’s throat, blood slipping along the edge.
I dared not move, though every instinct in me screamed to protect him.
Gilen’s eyes, haunting and cold, flicked toward me. “Your little rebellion is over,” he said, the voice of a fearsome predator taking command. “Your father has sent me to retrieve you and bring you home.”
My father. He had sent this man, this shifter, to drag me back like some errant child.
I lifted my chin, swallowing the surge of fear. “Home?” I echoed. “To what? To a court that believes the lies of a false tyrant queen? To a king who would rather shackle his daughter than hear her voice?”
His eyes narrowed, but his knife against my friend’s neck didn’t waver. “Careful, Princess. You might forget who’s holding the upper hand here.”
“I could never forget,” I said softly, “but I wonder if you have. Why side with them, Gilen? Why serve someone who’s slaughtered your kind? Who burned your forests and chained your kin for experiments and torture?”
For a moment, something flickered across his face, a deep pain that lingered beneath the surface. But in the next heartbeat, his expression hardened once again.
“You think I fight for them?” Gilen spat. “You think I haven’t seen what your father does to my people? Please. I’ve lived my entire life between rules built by others. And now, it’s my turn.”
He stepped closer, his breath misting as his eyes began glowing with magic, giving them a haunting honey color like liquid gold. But thankfully, the blade had dropped from Wyndfall’s throat.
The fury in Gilen’s voice trembled beneath the weight of old wounds.
“I was cast aside from the Solace pack. Overlooked. Expected to fall in line. But no longer.” His teeth bared in a grin that held no joy.
“I’ve accepted that I’ll forever be alone in this life, and there’s no use fighting it.
Now I make my own rules. Now I’m the master of my own fate. ”
“You are not alone in this life, Gilen,” I said, my voice steady, even as my heart pounded. “Together, we can build a safe world for everyone.”
He gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Tell me, Princess, what has peace ever given me? What mercy did Skylar grant me when she challenged me and declared that I was unfit to lead my own pack? When she denied me yet again!”
My breath caught. So that was it, the true wound beneath his rage.
“I was never meant to be an alpha,” he said, voice dropping to a low snarl. “I’m a lone shifter bound to the skies, and I will have my revenge on those who thought to embarrass me, to belittle me. Skylar should have killed me when she had the chance.”
Wyndfall’s breath came ragged, his eyes on me, silently pleading, Don’t provoke him further.
I bucked my chin up and met Gilen’s golden stare anyway. “You call yourself a lone shifter, yet you let another’s orders chain you again. Minaeve doesn’t want to set you free, Gilen. She wants a leash around your throat.”
Gilen only smirked. “Maybe. But I’d rather wear a leash by my own choosing. And if bringing you back wins me the freedom and a life of my own, so be it.”
“You could’ve been so much more,” I said quietly.
His laughter was low and dark. “Spoken like a child born to finery and given their heart’s desires,” he said. “You’ve never had to claw for survival. Never had to live as prey in a world that only respects predators.”
He leaned closer, the edge of his knife catching the first light of dawn as it neared. “I learned long ago that mercy gets you killed. Fear keeps you alive.”
“Then I pity you,” I said.
His eyes dipped to my bodice with a smirk, and I froze.
“Interesting.” He chuckled, reaching to pull the enchanted parchment that Skylar gave to me free.
“No!” I struggled against my captor’s hold, but it was no use.
His smile faltered before returning, colder than before. “You’ll learn, Princess,” he murmured. “Soon enough. I’ll even let you witness this lesson firsthand.”
Turning, he addressed the men holding my captain. “Move out.”
They wrenched Wyndfall forward, dragging him toward the shadowed path that led out of the village. I was pulled to my feet and silently followed, because there was nothing else I could do. But as we walked into the fading mist, I swore that this would not be the end of our rebellion.
Not for me. Not for my people.
I prayed to the gods that our other soldiers had evaded capture and would carry out our contingency plans.
I had a promise to keep and an ally to support.
Even if I became the first sacrifice, I would gladly have my blood be the price of peace.