Chapter Fourteen
Calista
The high priestess stood at the cliffside beside the gathered Alphas. An icy calm descended over me. Boats waited below the cliff, long and narrow, wolf-prows carved with slit eyes.
“Tradition stands,” Neris continued. “The daughters will start at the Razor Shoal, twenty leagues from the finish. They will be blindfolded at the keep, borne by sea to the wild coast, and set ashore at moonrise. At the first horn, the blindfolds will drop. At the second horn, the contestants run. Hunters are loosed one hour after from separate coves. Sel see you steady, Raya see you through.”
I focused on her words. The rules organized the chaos into some sort of order, and I could work with order.
With my crescent blades firmly sheathed at my back, knives tucked into my boots, and my rope at my hip, I turned and made for the cliff stairs.
The sea below shoved at the rock like an eager beast. Frostcrag banners snapped and boomed.
I kept my eyes on the path and not on the iron wolf mask watching me from the high rail.
As we were loaded onto the awaiting crafts, the priestesses stood with linen blindfolds. “By law,” Neris said, holding mine out.
Before I let her bind my eyes, I allowed myself one last look at Frostcrag. To set my gaze on the prize. Icy silver orbs met mine through slits of iron above. With that one look, a torrent of emotions rolled over me, hidden beneath the frosted depths.
And then I saw him. Not the king.
A wolf.
At his side a massive white beast appeared with silver threaded through his thick fur. He leaned against Savage, pale blue eyes meeting mine, and my heart stopped.
No. It couldn’t be. My hand drifted beneath my tunic to the wolf carving hanging from the cord at my neck.
The wolf’s head tilted slightly, curious, assessing, and something in my chest twisted painfully in recognition.
Frost. He was full grown now, broad and tall, nothing of the tiny, wounded cub remained. And he stood beside the Savage King as if he belonged there.
A year ago, in the woods beyond Hollowcrest, I had handed a wolf cub to a masked stranger. That stranger couldn’t have been—
My pulse thundered. If that truly was my wolf cub, it would mean Savage and I had met just before Selraya marked me. Before I’d been chosen and long before the Conclave or this sea crossing.
It would mean he had seen me. Had he chosen me?
The wolf’s gaze never left mine, much like the male standing beside him. And for the first time today, doubt cracked through my certainty.
No, it couldn’t be… It couldn’t have been him.
I opened my mouth to call out but Neris moved in front of me, holding out the blindfold with a tsk. “Calista Vale it is time.”
“Allow me.” The Black Wolf appeared at my side and reached for the blindfold Neris held. The priestess threw him a contemptuous glare but released the linen all the same.
“Wait, does the king have a wolf for a pet?”
“There are many wolves in the kennels,” my guard replied.
“A silver one? By the name of Frost.” I glanced up the cliffside but both Savage and the wolf were gone now.
“Not that I know of.” He shrugged, then offered the blindfold. “If I don’t do this now, the alternative will be worse.”
Exhaling a breath of frustration, I relented, vowing to discover the truth when I returned to Frostcrag as the victor.
Carefully, almost gently, my guard slipped the blindfold over my head and the world went black. Yet, when he looped the knot, he left it loose, unlike the priestesses had done with the other ladies. An oddly considerate gesture.
“Ready?” His icy breath slid across my neck, raising the tiny hairs at my nape.
“Always.”
Robbed of sight, my world tightened to rough breaths, heavy footfalls, and the sharp creaking of rope.
What felt like an eternity later, a palm cupped my elbow, gloved and steady, and guided me onto the boat.
Something about the steadying touch eased the turmoil.
The Black Wolf. My escort led me to the bow where I dropped onto the fur-covered bench.
Two more sets of boots thudded in behind me. Linen rasped, then a soft laugh like fog over water. “Careful with that knot,” Alma said to someone at my right. “You’ll smudge my kohl and I worked hard to look harmless.”
Another laugh threatened, but then a familiar sneer landed on my left. “No amount of kohl or paint for that matter could make a Hollow a queen.” Rhosyn Briar, sweet as rot, her comment lanced in my direction. Her hunter’s weight hit the boat next, heavy and sure.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not wearing either,” I growled back.
The oars took the sea. Leather creaked and salt rose.
“Hollow,” Rhosyn called over the rush, “when you trip over your own feet tonight, shout first so I can thank you for clearing the path.”
“Wouldn’t think of it. I’d hate to rob you of the pleasure of losing on your own.”
I could feel Alma’s smile moving in the air between us. “If either of you falls in, I’m not jumping in after you,” she chirped. “This braid took an hour.”
Her hunter, Keir, spoke for the first time, voice mild. “Mistvale takes care of its own, lady, Rhosyn.” No threat. Only warning. I didn’t turn my head, but I remembered the sound of it.
A second voice came from just behind my shoulder. It carried Thornwild’s steel, all edged and amused. “Briar will win without help,” the hunter said. “Remember that, Hollow.”
The Black Wolf answered before I could. “And you remember the law, Bram,” he snarled. “Hands off the bride until the horns say otherwise.”
“As you say, Wolf.”
Leather shifted and then more silence followed. We slid under the fortress out into a world made of the crashing of waves. The hull sang its old song and sprays of salt licked my lips. My body found the familiar rhythm before my fear could.
“Tell me if you need anything.” The Black Wolf’s breath slid across the shell of my ear.
“I need the throne,” I blurted, because my mouth couldn’t help itself.
“Then you’ll have to take it.” He said it as if it were a fact that we’d both already agreed upon.
“Arrogant for a lowly Hollow.” Rhosyn’s bracelets chimed when she leaned forward. Damned Wolvryn hearing. “Much like our king. When I’m queen, I’ll put him in his place.”
The Black Wolf grunted behind me, his warm breath raising the hair on the back of my neck. “You know nothing of keeping a crown, lady Rhosyn.”
“Maybe not, but I know how to claim one.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to defend the king for a reason I couldn’t quite puzzle out. Though I didn’t know Savage well, a part of me was certain he was a fair king, a worthy and honorable male even. “He’s not arrogant.” The words erupted before I could stop them.
I heard Rhosyn’s smile without seeing it. “The Hollow seems to think she knows the Savage.”
“Arrogance implies inability to back it up, and from what I’ve seen, the Alpha King’s confidence is well-deserved.”
The Black Wolf remained impossibly still beside me.
“If you think so highly of our king, why didn’t you just marry him then?” she fired back.
I gritted my teeth, biting back the retort. I didn’t owe Rhosyn Briar any explanations. She would never understand. “That’s none of your business.” With that, I turned my head toward the bow, or the direction in which I assumed was the bow, and held my tongue.
The boat rose and fell along the Silverveil Sea. Time stretched thin.
Alma wriggled beside me, her elbow jabbing into my side. “For what it’s worth, I’d rather you win than Rhosyn.”
“As would I.”
She chuckled. “You know, you and I could have been friends in another lifetime.”
“You’re probably right.” But I couldn’t afford to trust anyone now. I supposed I’d have to see what happened once the Hunt really began. Would all niceties be long forgotten?
The hours blurred by. The gentle rocking of the vessel lulled me into a calm I had no right to feel.
Or maybe it was the presence of the Frostcrag sigil, the cold, unyielding iron in my pocket.
I found myself reaching for it. To lead you home.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I banished thoughts of the Savage King who’d gifted it to me along with images of the wolf on the cliffside.
I’d see them both again soon enough if the goddess was good.
The craft rose and fell like a breath held too long. Hours later, an icy spray found my face and I smiled into it, unseen.
When we finally grounded, there was no long scrape, only the thud of keel to sand. Hands immediately steadied my shoulders as I flopped forward. “Stand,” the Black Wolf murmured.
I did. Behind me, Alma hummed like she was counting heartbeats while Rhosyn inhaled a breath like a runner about to sprint.
The wind here smelled different. It was peat, brine, and the iron tang of weed-wet rocks.
I wondered how far south we’d traveled. And goddess, it was still frigid.
The frosty wind cut across my cheeks, stinging my skin.
There was a shuffle of heavy footfalls behind me, of big bodies moving and shifting. I cocked my head back, but Neris’s voice stopped me. “May both faces of the goddess be with you, bride.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“Blindfolds dropped at the horn,” the priestess called out, presumably to all the competitors gathered. “Count your breaths and the bells. Remember the law, daughters of the Wolvryn Courts.”
Silence. Then a single blast rolled across the coast.
The Black Wolf’s presence coalesced at my back, his warmth seeping into my icy flesh.
Thick fingers threaded into my hair, and the dark linen across my eyes fell away, revealing a gray shore and knife-black rocks.
Alma and Rhosyn tossed their blindfolds onto the icy earth beside us.
Our boat’s hunters stepped to the sand in the same breath, measuring each other the way old rivals do.
Distant pines like teeth against a murky sky loomed ahead, the nearly full moon shining bright. Further down the coast, I could just make out the other boats tendering the daughters to shore.
“The Razor Shoal upon which we are standing is a tidal gravel bar that vanishes under the moon tide.” The Black Wolf stood one pace behind me now, hands loose, watching everything. “We must move as soon as the horn blasts. Direction, my lady?”
“Calista,” I corrected. “If you call me lady out here, you’ll get me killed.”
“Calista, then.” He replied without missing a step. Then he tugged a satchel up onto his shoulder. “I’ve been equipped with food that travels, waterskins, a map and an emergency field kit. I hope you have boots to bleed in.”
“I was born with them.”
“Good.” His light blue eyes glinted in amusement. For an instant, I expected the frosty silver. He unrolled the map over a flat stone and traced the boldest line north. “This is the most direct route and the fastest path to Frostcrag.”
I looked at the line, then at him. “Of course you’d suggest that. I’d be captured in a minute, and your king would be free to marry a proper Wolvryn with his crown safe and sound.”
His expression didn’t shift. “If I wanted you captured, I wouldn’t bother hiding it. I intend to help you win.”
“I don’t believe you.” I tapped the cliffside route instead. “East. Then north along the cliffs. Slower, but quieter.”
“The cliffs are treacherous.”
“So is everyone in this Hunt.”
He stepped closer. “Speed matters.”
“Not if speed gets me collared before dawn.” I folded the map and turned toward the western trail. “If you mean what you say, then do your job and guard my back.”
The second horn sounded, sharp and long.
I didn’t wait for his answer. I took the path toward the cliffs, the sea roaring beside us. A long moment later, his footsteps fell behind me.
Even with the Black Wolf at my back, I had never felt more alone.