Chapter 56
MERYN
Fuck.
“He wasn’t with Jonah and the group that attacked us? We’re sure?” I ask urgently.
Egith shares information she’s observed with her own eyes with Stark and me through the bond. A huge mass of forces, Bonded and soldiers alike. And leading them all—yes, it’s unmistakably Killian.
Stark shakes his head. “The group pursuing us was only a small contingent of his larger forces.”
“Killian?” Noemi asks. Her dark eyes are round and wide. “Is he coming for the rest of the Bonded?”
“It looks like it. Egith has eyes on troop movements,” I say.
The numbers of our loyal followers are low already. I can’t abandon the rest of them to Killian and Alistair’s mixture of violence and magical enslavement.
And they’re inside a fiefdom. Commoners’ lives are going to be at risk if Killian attacks the Bonded there.
“Is he going after them simply to wipe them out? Take the rest of your army?” Noemi speculates, voice tight.
“No,” I say. “Or not only that, although I’m sure that’s part of his goal. Alistair’s trying to provoke me. And you know what, fuck it. It’s working. I’m provoked. And I am done hiding from him. Done running from him.”
The others watch me with a mix of fear and resolute drive on their faces.
My voice rises. “I’m done with him! He has one Tear, and I have four. They’re making me powerful. He can tap into my shadebending magic, but I’d wager the Tears live outside that power—and with this ability to create and destroy, I can take him. And I have another thing he doesn’t.”
“Knowledge of Lumina?” Noemi says, looking uncertain.
“Sheer, incandescent rage,” I correct her. I start pacing, looking at Anassa. “How long will it take us to reach Blumenfall?”
“About five hours at full speed,” she replies.
I nod, calculating.
“But we need to rest first, Meryn,” she adds sternly. Her tail whips. It’s something she mostly does when she’s expressing annoyance. “You have not slept. No one has. Linsfall was difficult, emotionally and physically. And…”
“And?” I snap.
“You stink of unwashed human,” Anassa snarls. “Eat. Sleep. Wash.”
I grit my teeth. “Oh, I’ll sleep, all right.”
She bares her teeth at me to scold me for being stubborn, but I just bare mine back before turning my stare on Lucien. He’s standing with his eternally calm expression on his face, like he’s sitting at a vaguely entertaining party he attended only so he could have an excuse to drink.
But when he sees me staring at him, his brow lifts and his eyes focus.
“I have found you to be a very confusing person,” I tell him, too tired for subtlety.
He smiles. “Thank you.”
“I really, really did not mean that as a compliment. But… I think I can trust you. I can, right?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath and saunters toward me.
“The only thing in this world I truly want—the only thing that has remained eternally beyond my reach—is the swift”—he pauses—“or drawn-out and gruesome, death of my brother.” His voice is almost careless as he finishes, but his eyes tell another story.
“I want him wiped out of existence. You do not stand in the way of that goal, Sturmfrost.”
I roll my eyes. “It was a yes-or-no question.”
He smiles, and it’s somehow both reassuring and predatory. “Yes, you can trust me.”
“Then…” My heart aches. I close my eyes and say, “Take Venna back to Astreona. Please. Protect her.”
Venna is still unconscious atop Anassa. Her arm is hanging down over my wolf’s side. Her face is pale and starting to get sweaty.
The constant half smirk drops off Lucien’s face. “And Alistair?”
My head drops, and I sigh. “Lucien, I know you don’t want me going after him alone. You’ve made that perfectly clear. To be honest, it’s not my first choice, either. But Venna needs to be kept safe, and we cannot take her with us where we’re going. You know that, right?”
His eyes dart between Venna and the bag strapped around me, the one that holds my crown, the necklace, and the two other Tears.
My cheeks burn. “You’re not seriously going to risk her because you’re worried about our power imbalance right now, are you?”
“Normally, I love a good power imbalance…” he starts.
“Lucien.”
Lucien sighs, looking wearier than I’ve ever seen. “No, I suppose I’m not. But you better finish the job.”
“I promise,” I tell him. “And I’ll make sure to give Alistair your regards while I twist the knife, okay? How are you going to get back to the boat?”
“We’ll travel on foot. Inconvenient not to have a horse for our packs, but as you know, speed is among a Siphon’s arsenal. We’ll find safe places to rest and recover between stretches of travel. I’ll carry her until she wakes and can move on her own.”
I press my lips together. “Try to make it as easy as possible for her. Please. And… don’t let her kill anyone.”
It would break her, doing something like that. Senseless murder. Driven by desperation and inhuman hunger.
She can’t take any more loss.
Lucien lets out a vaguely offended sound and rolls his eyes. “I’ve eased new Siphons through their transitions many times. She will be fine.”
I lower my voice and step very close to him. Close enough that his spine straightens.
“I don’t know if she’s going to be fine,” I whisper.
She’s been through immeasurable trauma, her very nature has changed, and she’s lost her wolf on top of it all. Skaia, the one constant, steadying presence in her life. A part of her, just as Izabel was.
Even though she ultimately chose this transformation, I’m terrified she’ll wake and regret that she’s still alive.
That she’ll be convinced there’s nothing left of herself that deserves to keep on living.
Lucien’s pale brows draw together. “Meryn,” he says seriously. My lips part. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him use my first name like that. “I’ll protect her.”
I swallow. Then I force out, “Okay. You should go, then.” And I back away.
But he puts a hand on my arm, stopping me. His expression is still intense. The air between us is heavy. He doesn’t let go of me.
“If the Tears really are our chance to take down Alistair… Killian. Well. I want you to be as strong as absolutely possible when you take on that piece of shit.”
I watch in stunned paralysis as the hand that gripped me reaches up and lifts the opal necklace from around his neck, then withdraws his crown from his pack.
And King Lucien Brightbane stands before me with both of those Tears in his hands, offering them to me. Offering me his faith.
My voice catches up to my shock. “Are you sure? You told me just a few days ago that you didn’t trust me.”
Lucien’s gaze is cool. “If you can put your trust in me, I can extend you the same courtesy, I suppose. I have something precious to you in my possession, and now you have something precious to me.”
He waits patiently at first.
Then, impatiently, he says, “I trust that you will return them.”
“I will. I swear it,” I say. As I take the Tears, the additional power flares in me immediately, dark as midnight and blinding as the noonday sun. I swallow, waiting for the dizzying moment to pass.
“Well, then,” he says.
He stares at his crown in my hands for a moment, then lifts his head and strides toward Anassa’s side.
In one fluid movement, he launches himself up and catches himself on her fur.
He says something under his breath that I can’t make out and then eases Venna from her resting spot and settles her against his chest.
Her head falls against his shoulder awkwardly, at first, but he rearranges it carefully until her face is hidden against his neck. He even braces her skull with his hand as he dismounts Anassa, preventing the jolt of his impact with the ground from reaching her.
He carries her with reverence. That’s the only word for it. It’s like he’s bearing the responsibility of guarding something valuable and breakable. Priceless, even.
“Something precious to you,” he said, “and something precious to me.” Which means that in his mind, his crown is as important as Venna’s safety.
“Elias,” Lucien orders. Elias moves quickly to his side.
Both the Siphons give me one last parting look, and Lucien inclines his head in a move that, for once, I take as a sign of respect.
And then they’re gone, running through the woods in a blur of disorienting Siphon speed.
I force my shoulder muscles to relax. When I do, I realize my jaw and brow are tight, too, but those I can’t get to release so easily.
“We rest here. Noemi, Ephyse is best at hunting small creatures. We need to eat. Can you ask for his help? Cratos, you find us a stream for fresh water,” I order.
“And bathing,” Anassa reminds me, and I smack her leg.
I’m thankful, though. The touch of humor eases the knot of sorrow and tension and exhaustion within me, just a little bit.
She always knows what I need.
Before we break to start the various tasks required to form a camp, we take one last moment to draw close. To focus on the bonds still flowing among us.
The three wolves form a protective circle around us, and I press my face into Anassa’s fur. I center my mind on her persistent warmth. Even in the dead of winter, it will always be there. It will.
“Am I making a huge mistake, going to him?” I ask her. “Am I just giving him exactly what he wants, especially since I have all the Tears?”
She lowers her head and hooks her muzzle around me protectively. “No, you are not. Killian is powerful, but so are you. He does not know what power you bring with you. He will not be ready.”
I let the certainty in her voice steel my nerves. My voice is blade-sharp. “I won’t give him a chance to adjust. He’ll be dead before he understands what hit him.”
“Precisely. Rest so that you may finally have your vengeance.”
My exhaustion starts to claim me. I settle against Anassa’s side, comforted by the way her breathing lifts me and lays me down to rest.
Stark’s eyes catch mine from where he’s starting to make a fire. He quirks a brow. I know immediately that he’s asking whether I want him to join me.
But I just shake my head. This is how we’re going to manage it—how we’re going to get close enough to kill that fucker without having to carve my way through my own troops.
“I need to talk to him one last time.”