Chapter 23
23
Lyra
“It is a feeling unlike any other, Ly,” Kael said the morning after the attack. We tied dried lilac and sage to the stacked logs that would be the funeral pyres for the fallen Stav. “After so long of not belonging anywhere, I belong here.”
He fought alongside the Stav and helped pike one of the ravager heads. More than one courtier had already taken note and, no doubt, more women would be carving his name like a shrine on their mantels much the same as poor, na?ve M?rta back home.
I turned away to hide the pain in my gaze. Kael wanted to belong so badly he would ignore the truth—he was forced to be here. This was not a choice.
“I hear the Sentry thought you fought well,” I said, desperate to speak of anything but eternities at Stonegate.
Kael’s grin widened. “Truly? It is quite a compliment coming from Ashwood. He battles like he is a spectral, untouchable. All those Draven bastards recognized him as one of their countrymen and fled from sight.”
I gingerly placed another bundle of dried herbs on the pyre. “I heard a ravager spoke with him.”
Thane had not let on the king’s melder had flung arrows into the trees and risked her neck.
I wanted to keep it that way. Even with Kael. More than anyone he would chastise me for the stupidity and likely request a second Stav join Ashwood in my constant supervision.
Kael added bits of silver florin for the Stav to take with them to Salur. “I did hear a ravager spoke to the Sentry. Mad fool kept shouting about duty, like Ashwood was here to serve them .” He chuckled. “The bastard died with a look of shock when the Sentry cut through his skull.”
To me, Dravenmoor had done nothing to deserve Roark Ashwood’s service after trying to slaughter him in childhood.
“I think I saw Skul Drek, Ly.” Kael’s voice lowered.
“What?”
He nodded. “I think I saw him in the trees. There was this darkness, so thick I couldn’t make out where the soil began and the trees touched the sky. But for a fleeting moment, right when the final ravager fell, I could’ve sworn I saw his eyes. Like the molten hell—red and wretched.” After a breath, Kael laughed and shook his head. “Sounds mad. Perhaps it was a trick of the mind. Hard to know with all the blood and chaos.”
I laughed and followed behind him, but I could not shake the discomfiting feeling there was more to what Kael saw than any of us knew.
There was a shift since the slaughtered guards were found beyond the walls. Desire to break free was now edged in sharp fear.
I despised the helplessness, the dependence on men who held blades that had torn my life apart. Edvin’s skill with the mallet had earned him undeniable respect from the Stav captain who led the smiths of the guard, men and women who pounded anvils and aided bone crafters in forming Stav armor and blades.
The light had not returned to Edvin’s eyes, anger and a dark rage still festered under the surface, but his fury was now homed in on breaking iron and steel and sweating out his pent disdain.
Hilda said he still spoke little, but she anticipated it was how her brother would be until Salur. The emptiness from bidding his wife and young ones farewell was a stain on his soul.
What was most unsettling was Roark Ashwood. Where I had kept the secret of our battle in the old tree house, the prince ardently boasted about my aim to his Sentry.
For a moment, Ashwood looked at me with fleeting concern before briskly chastising the prince until Thane shoved his shoulder and ended the conversation.
After the battle at the gates, I looked at the Sentry differently. Impossible not to when I’d seen the way he killed, the ferocity in his devotion to keeping me, the prince, and all of Stonegate protected.
He was a man made of brutality and secrets, but there was loyalty beneath the surface.
I did not resent his presence as much; some mornings I almost anticipated the sight of my dark shadow.
Twelve days inside the gates, and I stood in the round entryway of the palace, hair braided, boots tied, and a dagger sheathed to each thigh.
I was to train with the Stav Guard. With Kael.
Emi was in the corridor when I emerged from my chambers.
“You wake before the sun now, yet all other days you are a petulant child when I try to rouse you.”
I didn’t even fight the grin. “Kael and I used to spar as children. This almost feels normal. I’ve missed it.”
The sparring fields were dotted with Stav. Most had removed their tunics and battled one another with dull blades, bearded axes, or practiced footwork with captains.
Near a rack of daggers and knives, Kael wrapped his wrists.
“Ly.” He waved, grinning. “Ready to fall on your ass?”
I plucked a stiletto knife off the rack, spinning it in my hand. “Darkwin, prepare yourself. You are about to become the mockery of the Stav Wing tonight.”
I tightened my grip on the hilt of the sparring blade. Kael had a kind heart, but he was a warrior. As a jarl’s son, even disowned as a bastard, he’d been taught with wooden blades at his earliest steps.
We backed away from the racks onto the field.
Kael struck hard and with purpose. Swift, deliberate, and unseen.
The edge of his practice blade came down on mine. My shoulders throbbed from the attack, but I spun out. Kael struck again; I parried. He jabbed; I sliced. When he ducked, I attempted to knock him off-balance. With his elbow he slammed me between the shoulders, but I kicked at his ankle, causing him to stumble.
I hooked an arm around Kael’s neck and managed to get him to his knees. My weight was not enough to drag him down completely, and he was actively pushing me away.
From the edge of the field more than one Stav had stopped to watch. Emi shouted her horror and disgust on my form, then would switch to her annoyance with Kael.
“Darkwin, are you Stav or not? Why are you still on the ground?” She shook her head.
I grunted and tugged, trying to get Kael to fall. He managed to hook his arm under my knees and flipped me onto my back. I wheezed when the breath fled from my chest. When I opened my eyes, cool steel was leveled against my neck.
I froze.
Roark stood over me, chest bare from the waist up. Planes of hard muscle from his shoulders to the sharp carve of his hips that disappeared beneath his low-slung trousers added a touch of heat to my pulse.
Kael laughed and backed away. “If you meet ravagers or Skul Drek, Ly, they’ll come at you from all sides.”
You closed your eyes . Roark crouched, his hand over my face. Never close your eyes in a fight.
Roark leaned closer, his fingers moved deftly against my cheek, a sign the Sentry was whispering. Fight me .
His silent words burned through me like liquid fire. I swallowed and rolled onto my side, hurrying to my feet.
A dark gleam filled Roark’s eyes. He spun a short blade in his grip.
I kept low, circling the Sentry. Kael stood beside Emi. More Stav took positions to watch. Even a few courtiers and servants preparing the courtyards for the arrival of the Myrdan royals stopped to observe.
You have enemies you do not see. Prove you can defend yourself . Roark gestured with sharpness, like a command. Like he would not accept anything less.
Then he lunged.
Like Kael, Roark moved with the glide of a shadow. His strikes came before I caught up to the previous move. I fought to gain the offensive, but kept backstepping, blocking every strike in a frenzy.
I managed to spin out and get behind him, but Roark took a long stride and found a position behind me before I had time to turn around. He was a force and I could not follow him. He swung at me, and I stumbled, falling backward to the ground.
Roark gave me no time to breathe before he made a cage with his arms and legs over the top of me, my own damn dagger in his control at my throat.
Dark hair pinned to his brow from a thin layer of sweat. His body was carved in divots of muscle and pressed too close to mine. The bastard only made it worse when he leaned his mouth over my lips, one hand in my sights. Heat from his bare skin burned against my chest.
You are dead .
His fingers brushed below my jaw, and I had to fight the horrid urge to lean into his touch. “Does it please you?”
A snide kind of smirk split over his mouth. Depends on the time of day .
“It is a shared feeling.”
He leaned in ever closer. One slight lift of my head and my lips would brush his. Roark shifted. His chest ran over my breasts, forcing my teeth to clench to bite back a moan.
Your grip on that blade is the worst I’ve ever seen .
I huffed in annoyance. “Get off me, Sentry. I tire of looking at you.”
Doubtful .
“Bastard.”
Roark held out a hand to help me up. I took it, almost on instinct. The instant I was steady on my footing, Roark’s smile faded and we pulled apart.
Emi will guard you tonight . Roark turned to go.
“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were to be my shadow.”
I have duties with the Stav Guard. I am glad my absence is distressing and you will miss me .
“I will not miss you,” I fired back.
“How do they talk so fast?” Kael’s irritated grumble came from my back. “Lyra hardly pauses to read the hand speak.”
“Sometimes souls just understand each other, Darkwin,” Emi returned.
I pretended as though I did not hear her because she was wrong. There was nothing about my soul that wanted to know the deeper edges of Roark Ashwood.
It wasn’t until I was alone in my chambers, reading the last page of hand speak, that I admitted such thoughts might be more of a lie than truth.