Chapter Nineteen #2
“Thanks,” I murmured, straightening. Then because that gaze grew more intrusive, I continued. “What about me? What do you think I hide?”
“That you are terrified and furious at the same time.”
“Wrong,” I snapped. “I’m only furious.”
“Then it’s a good mask.”
“You think you and your king are the only ones allowed masks?”
“My apologies, little wolf. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Heat climbed my cheeks at that nickname, so I walked faster.
By midday the cold had sharpened, and snow chewed at the edges of the path. We stopped to drink at a stream that cut the ridge in two. Removing his helm, Everest took the first swallow and then held the skin while I drank so the strap wouldn’t slap my chin. No comment, just the thoughtful act.
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to dislike this male. “I thought Frostcrag males were all barked orders and biting.” I wiped my lip with a glove. “You’re almost polite.”
“Almost.” He recapped the skin with a smirk, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. “Don’t spread it around.”
I grinned despite myself. “Your secret is safe with me.”
We moved as the clouds thickened, and the world went to pewter again. Somewhere beyond the next roll of the land a horn sounded. It came from quite a distance.
“It’s a hunter’s call,” Everest said. “Could be one of them reporting a capture.”
“Reporting to who?”
“The Alpha. Perhaps there will be yet another betrothal from this Hunt.”
“Any ideas who would want to capture another daughter?”
He shrugged. “Ashfen or Tidebreak could greatly benefit from a match with nearly any of the other Courts.”
“I’m glad to hear Hollowcrest isn’t the only desperate Court under Frostcrag’s banners.”
He grunted, then angled toward a line of low shrubs. “We should cut through there and stay out of the open. Thornwild likes to use the grass to hide its teeth.”
“Teeth?”
“Traps.” He pointed to a bare patch the size of a cloak. “See how the grass all leans the same way? Wind did not do that. Someone brushed it with a branch as they worked. We must avoid snares like those at all costs.”
We stepped around it. I felt better, then worse, because if there was one trap there would be more.
“You said Thornwild and Stormhallow wanted the king’s throne. That there was history there. What happened? Or do they simply really want to rule all of you wild beasts?”
A chuckle, a real one that brightened the blue of his eyes. “It’s about power, little wolf. Politics and power.”
That was a non-answer if I’d ever heard one.
“They’d have to kill Savage to take the throne, right?” The idea of that powerful male dead… it simply didn’t sit well.
“Trust me, our king isn’t easy to kill.”
“You still didn’t answer my question.”
Reluctantly, he replied, “Both Trystan, Thornwild’s Alpha, and Radick of Stormhallow have their reasons to despise the king. They might not be right, but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous.”
“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
He shook his head. “You should focus on the Hunt and let the king worry about the other Alphas.”
Not at all reassured, I let the matter rest for now, though I tucked it away to press again later.
We fell back into an easy rhythm. When I set a pace, he matched it.
When I started to slow, he didn’t say a word, only offered food or water or pointed to a shorter path around a rock shelf.
His quiet, solid presence was oddly steadying.
As we hiked onward, the ridge narrowed into a natural causeway, so we were forced to follow it single file. Thin trees gripped the edges, and the ground below looked close. Too close.
“Slowly,” he warned.
I obeyed, hugging the cliff face. Then he stepped around me to take the lead. As he passed, his bare shoulder brushed mine, sending heat and a familiar tingle through my cloak.
Clenching my teeth, I breathed through the odd sensation and continued on.
I watched him pick his line along the ridge, every step sure and quiet.
Muscle rolled under fur and leather, shoulders broad enough to take the wind and let me walk in his cover.
The cloak snapped around his thighs, showing the long, easy stride of someone who trusted his body and the ground.
A nick on the pointed tip of his ear caught my eye, then a pale scar at the nape where his hair curled, and the clean cut of his jaw when he glanced back to check my footing. He glanced back a lot.
They were all useful details to note I told myself as an excuse.
I was cataloguing facts, not openly ogling the male.
A rope rode his hip like it belonged there along with a knife hilt worn from use.
The air carried cedar and cold from his skin, steadying in a surprising way.
He moved like a promise he meant to keep, and the thought unsettled me more than the drop at our side.
Finally, the rugged uphill terrain smoothed out into a clearing. Beyond another sharp ascent loomed, but at least I could breathe for a minute.
“Keep your eyes open.” Everest glanced back. “This is not a respite despite how it may look.”
I kept trudging across the clearing, eyes searching for the tells he had taught me. He slowed his pace to walk by my side instead of at the lead. His eyes surveyed the terrain without his head ever moving.
There. The grass to the left had been combed, and to the right, the dirt was too smooth. My skin tightened, and a prickle of unease skittered up my spine.
“I don’t like this,” I whispered.
“Neither do I.”
We edged forward together, his hand firm on my elbow. My boot hit earth that was not earth. My heart catapulted up my throat as it gave beneath my feet with a sick sigh.
Then the world dropped.