Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Aurelia
The road out of Grey Oak felt colder once Slade and Thorne vanished north.
A simple nod, a promise of, “See you soon,” and then Slade took Thorne’s arm, shadows curled around them, and they were gone.
Headed north to intercept Eirnan and Leif and whatever Autumn army they’d managed to recruit.
If they succeeded, the entire contingent would regroup in the caves to the north to await orders for our next move. If they were caught—
I didn’t let myself think about it.
And now, without Slade or Thorne as a buffer, the three of us stood together in the moonlight far east of Grey Oak’s city limits.
Rydian.
Callan.
And me.
Our long journey stretched before us, and I swallowed a groan at how awkward this was going to be.
“Let’s get moving,” I said, determined to get this over with as fast as possible.
Night draped itself across the land as we moved. Shadows pooled in the hollows of the hills, clung to the trees, and stretched long behind us like restless things. We kept off the main road, weaving through wooded paths and overgrown animal trails.
Callan led for a while, mostly because he didn’t trust Rydian not to “accidentally” trip him into a ravine.
Rydian walked close behind me, silent, shadows coiling at his heels out of habit.
He hadn’t said much since we’d left the throne room behind, but I had the distinct impression that something in him had changed.
I didn’t know what. Just that the air felt different around him.
Charged. Alive in a way it hadn’t been before.
Every time my gaze flicked back to him, he was already looking at me.
The first few times I caught him, I looked away. By the fifth, I didn’t bother.
“Anything behind us?” I murmured.
“No,” he said softly. “Not yet.”
The way he said yet had a weight to it. Like he already knew, the moment danger appeared, he’d feel it first. Maybe he would. His body moved the same as always, precise and lethal, but his magic… it hummed under his skin as if something old had been awakened.
And then there were his eyes.
Every time light hit them, they flashed darker. Not like the void he’d shown as a prince of Midnight. This was deeper. Wilder. The kind of magic the Fates used to hide behind stories and warnings.
Callan noticed it too.
He kept glancing back at Rydian like he wasn’t entirely convinced we hadn’t brought a monster along with us.
I wasn’t convinced either.
But mine was the opposite problem—I felt safer with him there.
We walked until the moon slid low between the branches. The forest thickened around us, shadows clustered beneath the trees. The air here smelled like moss and spring water and distant flowers that only bloomed at night.
“Keep moving,” Rydian murmured softly behind me. “We still need to find shelter before the sun comes up.”
“There’s an estate not far from here,” Callan began, but Rydian shook his head.
“Too risky. We can’t afford anyone reporting back to Heliconia with our location.”
“Well, it’s not like we have supplies for tents,” Callan said, clearly pouting at the idea of sleeping on the ground.
“We’ll make do,” Rydian said simply.
Callan muttered, “Lovely. A king reduced to sleeping in the bushes like a fugitive.”
“Well, you are traveling with the two most wanted criminals in your lands,” Rydian pointed out.
“Don’t remind me,” Callan snapped.
I didn’t bother stepping between them. They’d bickered at least ten times since leaving Grey Oak. I knew them well enough by now to recognize Rydian’s patience was paper-thin, and Callan’s sarcasm was a defense mechanism. The exhaustion didn’t help.
As dawn approached, Rydian directed us off the narrow hunting path and deeper into the brush where we’d have more cover.
We skirted fallen logs slick with dew. The trees grew older here—massive trunks wide enough to hide a dozen fae behind.
Strange fungi glowed faintly near their roots.
The forest had always been beautiful, but tonight it watched us like an old creature taking stock of trespassers.
Eventually, Callan stumbled and caught himself on a tree.
“That’s it,” Rydian muttered. “We stop before His Majesty breaks a nail.”
“I hate you,” Callan said.
Rydian didn’t even look back. “Excellent. I recommend the silent treatment.”
I blew out a tired breath, noting the sky beginning to lighten. “We need shelter. Something hidden. Somewhere no one will look.”
Rydian pointed east. “There used to be an old hunting cabin two miles that way. Half rotten. Probably crawling with spiders. Perfect for a groom on the run from his bride.”
“She’s not my bride,” Callan muttered, and I noted the way his jaw tightened.
I caught his eye, but he only turned away, ducking his head as he went.
We trudged toward the direction Rydian indicated.
My legs ached. My ribs ached. My magic—it didn’t ache so much as simmer uncomfortably under my skin, like it hadn’t settled since the throne room.
It had wanted me to unleash it so badly, and I’d held it back.
Now, it had built into something like a pressure.
Then there was the life force Heliconia had drained from me.
It had left me empty. Tired to the bone.
But something else tugged at me too.
Rydian.
Every time he came close, I felt his presence like a magnet. And when he moved away, his absence was a loss.
After another hour of weaving between boulders and thick brush, we saw it: a small cabin half swallowed by overgrowth, with broken shutters and a roof patched with moss.
It was barely standing.
“Home sweet home,” Rydian murmured.
Callan looked personally offended by it.
Inside, it smelled like damp wood and old leaves. But it was shelter. And no one sane would look for royalty here.
“Callan, take the cot,” I said. “Rydian—”
“I’ll take first watch.”
Callan dropped onto the cot with a theatrical groan. Rydian nodded and stepped back outside, shadows curling protectively around him like a cloak.
Leaving Callan and me alone.
He sat slumped over, elbows on knees, staring at the floor.
I debated going to look for Rydian but decided against leaving Callan unsupervised.
“So,” he said eventually. “We survived after all.”
“Barely.”
He lifted his brows. “Trying to diminish my gratitude?”
I snorted, sitting down opposite him on an overturned crate. “Gratitude? Is that what this is?”
He hesitated. And for once, Callan’s humor fell away. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
I blinked, a little stunned by his earnest candor.
He rubbed his palms over his face. “Gods. I can never go home.”
My chest ached. “We’ll stop her. You’ll get your throne back. Your court—”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. I surrendered it. Gave it up. I walked—no, ran—away from my throne to save myself, knowing full well what it meant. I fled like a coward.”
“That isn’t what you did.”
“That’s exactly what I did.” He looked up, the look in his eyes bleak and full of self-condemnation. “Just like I tried to do seven years ago.”
I swallowed. “Callan—”
“My people will never forgive me,” he said hoarsely. “My own guards watched me let her try on my crown. Watched her take over my court even before we’d spoken our vows. Watched me do nothing. And then today, I relinquished Autumn to her in a heartbeat.”
He looked at me then. Really looked at me. And he didn’t look arrogant or amused or smug. He looked young. Afraid. Mortal.
“You’ve been given a second chance,” I said softly. “What you do with it is what matters. The choices you make now will determine whether you were running from something… or toward something else.”
He drew a breath that sounded like it hurt to take.
“What could I possibly be running toward?” he asked quietly.
“That,” I said, “is up to you.”
He sank back against the wall, eyes drifting shut like the weight of it all was finally hitting him. His breathing evened out slowly. His shoulders dropped.
I watched him for a long moment. This boy I’d nearly married. This king who’d already become something entirely different than the one before him. Then I lay down on a patch of old blankets and stared at the cracked ceiling.
I thought of Heliconia. Of Lesha. Of the thrones. Of the valley burning. And most of all…
I thought of Rydian.
The way his shadow-wrapped arms had closed around me when he’d pulled me to safety in that throne room. The way his kiss had felt like the first breath after drowning. The smile he’d worn like a secret promise he was saving for later.
Something had changed in him.
Something had changed in me.
I didn’t know what it meant—not yet. But I was more than ready to find out.
I woke to a slant of afternoon light making dust motes dance in front of the broken window pane. Callan snored softly from where he’d sprawled on the cot. I sat up, wincing at the soreness in my hip from the hard wood floor.
Moving quietly, I slipped outside.
The sun had arced to the west, already beginning to dip toward the horizon. I was surprised to find I’d slept the day away. And Rydian had let me.
I wandered into the brush, looking for some sign of him. Maybe he’d fallen asleep too—
“Sleep well?”
His deep timbre startled me, and I whirled to see him standing before me. His hair had swept down over his forehead, his gaze dark and piercing as it held mine. Standing here among the soft Autumn woods, he looked like a dream come to life. Or maybe, for some, a nightmare.
“You startled me,” I said.
“Apologies.” He took a step toward me.
“Did you sleep at all?” I asked.
“No.”
“You should have woken me. I would have taken a watch.”
“You needed rest.”
“So do you,” I said pointedly.
“I’ll sleep when we get there.”
“Are we getting close?”
“If we move quickly, we’ll arrive by midday tomorrow.”
“Callan will complain,” I said.
His gaze darkened. “Then he can find his own way.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He glowered. “Sometimes, I wish I did.”
My mouth curved. “You know, you’re not as grumpy and scary as you pretend to be.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”
Shadows leaked from his feet, crawling over the ground and whispering up my legs. Their touch felt like a second set of hands, trailing lightly up my body. I found myself leaning into it. Into him.
I watched as he took another step toward me. Then another. Until he was standing over me. His hands remained at his sides, but his shadows swirled and caressed me, leaving small, phantom strokes along my hips.
“What about now?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’m not scared of you,” I whispered.
His eyes flashed. Not with fury. With desire. “Maybe you should be.”
I swallowed hard as he leaned down until his mouth was only a breath from mine.
“And now?”
My heart stuttered, and I felt my own desire stir in every cell of my body.
“You two are nauseating.”
Rydian’s shadows abruptly vanished.
I whirled to find Callan, his lip curling in disgust, his eyes still lined with sleep.
“At least wait until we’ve had breakfast,” he added before turning away and sauntering off behind a tree.
When I glanced back at Rydian, I expected him to be upset. Instead, his smirk was anything but.
“What is that look for?” I asked him.
“Soon, Furious.”
“Soon what?” I asked, my breath suddenly short.
“We’ll find somewhere with no interruptions.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “And thick walls.”
I swallowed hard, imagining it. Remembering the night we’d had in my room at Grey Oak. The way it had felt to have his hands on my body. And then the rejection of anything more. When he’d told me what vow he’d made to my father. That he refused to get involved when his time was so short.
“I don’t understand. You said you didn’t want to—”
“I changed my mind.”
My heart leaped. “About what?”
I had to hear it. To know.
His gaze dipped to my mouth. “About everything. You’re mine, Furious. Soon. And then forever.”