Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
R osy morning sunlight slants into the cabin, and I shift back against Talan in the cozy bed. Every now and again, wrens and nightingales sing, making my eyelids flutter open.
The fire in the fireplace died sometime in the night, and as the hours stretched on, a chill spread through the cottage. Still, even without the fire, the heat from Talan’s body keeps me warm. I nestle against him, folding my arm over his. The dawn light bathes the warm cedar tones of the cabin in honeyed shades. As I snuggle close to Talan, my mind drifts through that liminal realm between sleep and waking. Thoughts appear and dissipate like fog that drifts over Lake Avalon.
Talan knows that I’m demi-Fey, and he doesn’t care. Maybe he doesn’t know everything , but I feel safe in his arms.
He really isn’t who we all thought he was—the Butcher of Brittany, the ruthless killer. He understands that the humans, the demi-Fey, were nothing more than a scapegoat for the king.
If I’m right, we can stop the war together. I just have to think of a way to slowly tell him the whole truth without ripping the rug out from under him.
And right now, I really don’t want to leave this delectable cocoon.
Talan’s hand shifts on my stomach, his fingers lazily stroking my skin. “Nia, are you awake?”
“Mmm.” I pull the blankets up around me and shift my ass against him. I can feel the hard length of him, and it stirs desire in me all over again.
“We have to get back to Perillos,” he murmurs. “But I’m going to hunt us more food and get some water before we go. You sleep a little longer.”
He kisses me on the temple, and I watch dreamily as he pulls on his trousers. It’s hard to stop looking at him—every perfect inch of him.
I watch as he steps out of the cottage and the door closes behind him. I listen to his feet crunching the snow as he leaves, and I luxuriate under the blankets for a while.
When Talan gets back, I want to talk to him about the war. I want to find out why he’s trying to conquer Scotland. What’s his plan if he doesn’t support his father’s crusade against humans?
I curl sleepily underneath the blanket, Talan’s masculine scent still coiling around me.
My eyes snap open, my heart racing, danger sliding into my thoughts. At first, I’m not sure what woke me, but then I hear it again, and my breath catches. Men’s voices ring out from the forest. Did Talan bring someone back with him?
I rise from the bed and pull on a thin silk gown over my naked body. I cross to the window, and my heart skips a beat. I leap away from the glass, then carefully peer around the side again, taking care not to be seen.
It’s not Talan—it’s the King’s Watch. At least twenty soldiers are marching toward the cottage, all wearing the engraved armor of the king’s guard. Their swords are drawn, and they look sharp and vicious.
My blood roars as I recognize the man in the center of the group. He’s larger than the rest, his lip curled with a bone-chilling ferocity. He’s wielding his monstrously large sword, the one he used when he captured Raphael.
It’s Vidal, Maertisa’s brother, and based on the look on his face, I think this mission is personal to him. He knows what I did to his twin.
Slowly, realization sinks in like snow melting into soil.
Talan told me yesterday that no one would recognize my face in town. But what if Vidal came looking for me here, hunting for his sister’s killer? He must have pieced together that it was me, probably right after we left Aedan’s palace. His sister, after all, had already suspected me. She must have whispered something to him, but Vidal bided his time. An attack in Perillos would have been foolish.
He’d been waiting for his chance to strike the moment I left the castle. And if he knew I was here, I imagine he’s been spending his days speaking to anyone in villages near one of the prince’s hunting cottages and asking them to inform him if they saw me. Yesterday, they’d stared at me as I showed up in town. Had there been recognition on their faces or alarm?
Maybe. Probably.
And they’d sent word to him as soon as I left. He’s here for revenge, and if he captures me, I have a terrible feeling my death will be slow and agonizing.
They move slowly, spreading out as they approach the cottage. I don’t know if they saw the movement through the window, but I hope not. I hurry to the other side of the cottage and slip into my boots, staying low so they don’t see me. I peer out the window again. They’re much closer now, a few dozen yards away.
My wrists tingle with cold magic, and I look down to see Nimu?’s symbols shimmering on my skin. As my heart slams, I feel something grow within me, magic reacting to my fear, the ancient power that had taken root the moment I crossed into Brocéliande, unfurling when I’d passed Nimu?’s statue. My body hums with power, strength coursing through my veins.
But I have no doubt that even armed with this power, they will take me down. There are too many of them, all armed. Vidal alone is pure death, and this time, I don’t have a poison-tipped dagger.
My heart pounds, and my legs shake.
Hurrying to the back window, I pry it open and scan the forest for movement. No one.
I leap through the window, landing lightly on my feet. The instant my boots hit the snow, magic surges through me. Pressing my back flat against the wall, I take a moment to scan my surroundings. My fingers twitch as my gaze locks onto the axe Talan used to chop wood yesterday. It’s buried deep in a tree stump, just within reach. I lunge forward, gripping the wooden handle and yanking it free. Armed with the axe, I dash toward the tree line, sprinting hard and pumping my arms, moving quickly enough that I don’t feel the cold in my thin gown. The wind shrieks in my ears as I race through the forest, my body brimming with magical energy.
But they’ve spotted me. Somewhere behind me, I hear shouts of alarm.
As I run, two arrows sink into the snow to my left. I quickly zig, then zag, my movements too fast for the arrows to find their mark. Vidal roars at his men, but I’m only trying to focus on one thing—speed. I charge through the forest, kicking up snow as I run. More arrows whip past me, whistling.
I dive deeper into the woods, desperately hoping the oaks will give me cover, but as I run, an arrow thunks into a nearby tree. They’re closing in on me.