Chapter Forty-One
Calista
We moved like wolves, silent and ruthless. There were no conversations and no pauses longer than a breath. There was only the crunch of snow under our boots and the constant bite of wind coming off the sea.
Everest hadn’t said more than a word in hours. When he did speak, it was sharp and practical.
“Here.”
“Duck.”
“Move.”
He led the way along the coast at a breakneck pace, choosing the narrow shelves of rock where the drifts were thinner, cutting inland only when the wind turned too vicious or the terrain threatened to swallow my ankle whole. He moved like a male possessed.
He wasn’t just racing the Hunt—he was racing the moon.
My ankle was screaming again, the wrap biting tight, the joint swollen and hot beneath it.
I’d grown accustomed to it now. Every step sent pain lancing up my leg and into my hip.
But it least it kept me from thinking about the hut and that wicked tongue of his.
My vision kept narrowing at the edges, but I didn’t dare say a word.
Not after this morning. Not after the way he’d looked at me.
Not after the way I’d started looking at him. It wasn’t just want anymore. It had become something quieter and far more dangerous, something that kept slipping past my defenses and settling somewhere beneath my ribs. And I was not ready to face what it meant if I let it stay there.
So I kept moving. I set my jaw and let my stubbornness do what was necessary.
The farther north we went, the harsher the world became.
The trees thinned, their branches bowed under ice.
The shoreline turned jagged and black beneath the snow, like bones pushing through skin.
Even the sea looked meaner up here, slate-gray water slamming against rocks with a violence that made my stomach tighten.
And Frostcrag loomed closer in my mind with every mile. A fortress of stone and frost where the throne waited for me to speak my edicts.
Where the king waited.
In the silence, my thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone.
The closer I got, the more my mind churned. Just a little further, and I could win the Moon crown, claim my edicts and win a better life for Ma and Suri, and all Hollows.
But what of Everest? An ache lanced through my chest.
Then my thoughts took a darker turn. Toward the black marks on the horizon only a day ago that could have been harmless boats or something worse moving north.
Tarrik. Blackwake.
If he was organizing the raids, if the coast was escalating into something coordinated and hungry, then Hollowcrest would truly suffer. We needed the Moon crown, the edicts… we needed Savage. I needed Savage.
I hated how practical that thought was. How cold. How it slid into place like it had been waiting there all along.
If the choice had only been between Everest and Savage, the decision would have been simple. But nothing about this Hunt was simple.
My gaze drifted to Everest’s broad back as he forged ahead, cloak snapping in the wind. And then my chest ached, because practicality didn’t erase what had happened in the hut. What had been growing at an alarming rate for days. I was falling for him…
Falling for the way he’d kissed me like he’d decided he was done fighting himself. Just once. For the way he’d torn away like the kiss had burned him.
I kept comparing the Savage King and the Black Wolf without meaning to.
Savage, the king I’d imagined as a beast in a hall full of knives, and Everest, the shadow who had proven again and again he was more than a guard. He’d bled for me. Listened to me. Broken the law for me.
And still, he wouldn’t give me the whole truth. Would he ever betray his king for me?
I didn’t want to face the answer.
No. He wouldn’t.
Everest was devoted to Savage in a way that went deeper than duty. He had said it himself. He was the law that kept our people breathing.
My guard would not become a traitor for me. Not even if I begged.
The thought should have steadied me, should have hardened my resolve, but instead, it made something sharp twist in my chest.
We crested a low rise where the pines opened briefly to a wind-scoured stretch of coast. The storm’s aftermath had left the world brutally clear, tracks and scents sharper now. The snow was hard-packed and glittered like crushed glass.
Everest lifted a fist, and I stopped, breath catching. Voices drifted from ahead, low and strained, and then two figures emerged from the white.
Stormhallow’s Myra and her hunter, Kade.
I unsheathed my remaining crescent in a heartbeat.
Myra moved stiffly, one arm held tight to her side beneath her cloak.
Her hair was half loose, dark strands frozen to her cheeks.
There was blood on her sleeve, dried brown and ugly against the light fabric.
Kade supported her without making it obvious, his hand at her elbow, and his body angled subtly between her and the open path.
His eyes snapped to Everest first. Then to me. Kade’s hand drifted toward his knife.
My guard didn’t break his stride. He simply moved in front of me, a quiet wall of muscle and threat. His voice was low, calm, and terrifying. “Keep walking,” he growled.
Kade halted anyway, gaze flicking to Myra then back to Everest. “We’re not here for trouble.”
The Black Wolf’s head tipped slightly. “Then don’t make any.”
Myra’s lips curled, sharp despite the pallor in her face. “I see Frostcrag’s shadow is still playing watchdog.” Her nostrils flared, then her gaze slid from Everest to me, and something ugly brightened behind her eyes. “Or is it the prize bride’s lover now?”
Heat flared in my chest, furious and fast. It only took me a moment to understand. Everest’s scent must have been all over me and mine on him after this morning. Damned Wolvryn enhanced senses.
The Black Wolf’s expression remained a mask of calm, but I felt his posture tighten by a breath.
Kade’s grip on Myra’s elbow firmed. “Per the law you may not strike her—”
“I know the law,” he gritted out. “And I do not strike females unprovoked.”
Kade exhaled slowly as if he’d been genuinely concerned about her. “She’s wounded.”
My guard’s gaze cut to the blood on Myra’s sleeve. “How?”
Myra’s smile turned mean. “Rhosyn.”
I barely restrained my mouth from curving in surprise. Thornwild, of course. Then my thoughts flitted to Trystan. Did Rhosyn have any idea that his body sat at the bottom of the sea? Shaking my head of the thought, I turned to Myra. “Rhosyn attacked you?”
Her eyes glittered, lips thinning. “She tried to, but she’s sloppy when she’s angry.”
“I’m never sloppy.” Everest’s voice turned colder, eyes pivoting to Stormhallow’s hunter. “If you try to make a move toward Calista, you won’t leave this coast alive.”
Kade’s eyes narrowed. He may have been a hunter, armed and dangerous, but he wasn’t stupid. Myra was limping, injured, and the throne was nearly a day away. He backed off half a step, free hand easing away from his knife.
Myra scoffed. “Relax. I’m not interested in proving a point on a Hollow bride.
” Her gaze drifted north, toward nothing visible and everything imagined.
“I’m interested in the throne.” Then she looked back at me, lips parting in a slow, cruel grin.
“And in finally claiming the king that should have been mine.”
The words hit like a slap. Savage. I needed him to save my family, to save Hollowcrest.
Before I could think, I lunged.
My ankle screamed, white-hot, but I used the pain like fuel and slammed into Myra with my shoulder. She stumbled with a sharp cry, and my fingers clawed up, grabbing at her hair, at her face.
“You will never claim the throne,” I snarled. “It’s mine.” My nails raked her cheek, drawing blood.
Myra hissed and grabbed at my wrists, but she was slower, more injured than I was. Still, she twisted and dragged me off balance. My ankle folded.
Pain detonated. For a heartbeat, I saw nothing but white.
I bit through it, refusing to let go, rage roaring louder than the agony. Myra’s eyes flashed, wild with fury, and she tried to knee me, but Kade caught her by the shoulders.
“Myra, no!” he shouted.
Everest caught me next. Not gently. He yanked me back like he was ripping me out of a fire, hauling me against his chest with one arm locked hard around my waist. Then he turned, planting himself between me and Stormhallow’s daughter, broad as a cliff.
“Enough,” he growled into my ear.
Myra laughed breathlessly, blood on her lip now and cheek slashed red. “Did I strike a nerve, Hollow?”
I fought Everest’s hold, panting, and shaking with rage and pain. “Shut up.” I flashed her my two curled fingers.
She pretended to look insulted, smirk growing wicked.
Everest’s grip tightened until I couldn’t breathe properly. His voice dropped to my ear again, rough as stone. “Enough. We’re wasting time. We must keep moving north.”
“I’m not done with her.” I struggled, trying to break free of his hold.
“You are,” he hissed.
Kade’s gaze flicked between us. He looked ready to draw steel, then his eyes pivoted from the Black Wolf’s imposing form to Myra’s injury. He must have decided against it because he eased her back, body protective and eyes wary.
Her smile turned sharp again. “Run along then. The throne is north, and I intend to kneel before my king with blood on my hands and victory on my tongue.”
The words made my skin crawl.
Everest didn’t reply. He only dragged me away. I let him, because my ankle was a fiery thing now, trembling and weak beneath me.
The farther we got from Myra and Kade, the harder it became to keep my body upright through sheer spite.
We moved for another few minutes in brittle silence.
The coastline narrowed, the wind whistling through the rock gaps.
Everest’s pace didn’t slow until the figures behind us vanished into the pearly snow and trees.
Then he stopped abruptly as if he’d sensed it before I did.
I tried to take one more step, but my ankle gave.
My vision darkened. I tumbled forward and waited for the cold earth.
Only it never came. Everest’s arm hooked around my waist, hauling me against his chest. His body enveloped mine like a shield.
“Selraya,” I hissed, breath shaking. “I’m fine.”
He made a harsh sound. “No, you’re not.”
I tried to pull away, but my leg refused to bear any weight. Pain shot up so hard this time my stomach roiled.
Everest’s jaw clenched. His eyes flashed with something raw, something close to fury, and for a moment I thought it was at me.
“I pushed you too hard,” he muttered, muscled chest quickly rising and falling between us.
I shook my head slowly. “Everest, no—”
“I knew,” he cut me off, voice rough. “I knew you were lying about the pain this morning. I heard it. I saw it. And I kept pushing you anyway.”
His hands tightened on my hips, possessive and steadying in the same breath. “We won’t make it to Frostcrag by tonight with you like this.”
Fear hit cold in my veins as I glanced up at the sky. Tonight. The full moon was nearly upon us. The closer we got, the stronger the pull would become and the more dangerous every beast out there would be. Including my guard.
And me, still unable to shift, still too breakable.
Everest looked north, then back at me. Something grim settled in his face like a decision snapping into place. “I’m carrying you.”
My head jerked back. “What?”
His gaze held mine. “You heard me. I’m carrying you.”
“What if someone sees? The law—”
“Can go to frost,” he interrupted.
Shock rattled through me. “You can’t keep breaking the rules for me, Everest. What if we run into another daughter or worse an Alpha?”
His mouth curved, humorless. “I’m doomed at this point either way, little wolf.”
My breath caught. “Doomed?” I whispered.
He stepped closer, bending slightly, his forehead almost brushing mine.
His voice was rough, quieter now. “If I follow the law and you don’t reach Frostcrag, you could die.
” His eyes darkened. “If I break it again, I’ll be the one to pay for it.
” His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth, then snapped away like it burned.
“And I’m done pretending I’m not already paying. ”
My throat tightened so hard it hurt. Before I could argue again, Everest shifted the fur cloak higher on my shoulders as if preparing for war, then crouched and turned his back to me. “Get on.”
“What about the wounds from last night?”
“Healed.”
I hesitated, heart pounding, guilt and relief tangling in my ribs.
Everest glanced back over his shoulder, eyes hard. “This isn’t a request. I made a vow, and I intend to keep it.”
I swallowed, then leaned forward and climbed onto his back, arms sliding around his neck. His body tensed at the contact. For one breath, he went utterly still, as if he was fighting something inside himself.
And I could have sworn I felt it too. His Wolvryn clawing to the surface.
My head tipped back, eyeing the darkening sky and dread pooled low in my gut.
Then he stood, lifting me like I weighed nothing. And he started moving north again, carrying me toward Frostcrag.