Chapter 3
Three
“Ifail to see how killing yourself is a better alternative than becoming one of the most powerful beings in a kingdom deserted by the monarchy.”
I glance up from the forest trail for the first time since Falcen hauled me to my feet and tied my hands behind my back, commanding that I follow him willingly or he’d leash and drag me to the academy by the neck instead. For hours, he didn’t glance in my direction or say one word to me, until now.
I speak to a spot between his shoulder blades under his cloak, “The stories I’ve been told of the academy sound worse than a simple death.”
Falcen grunts without breaking stride, which I take as confirmation.
Lux’s sun nears the horizon, her sky painted in a dusky glow.
We’ve walked an entire day, and my meager sandals are almost worn through.
Luckily, thousands of hours of crop picking have given me calluses on the soles of my feet, but with the way they’re barking in pain, I’m about to experience the first blisters I’ve had in years.
I scrunch and stretch my fingers, keeping the blood flowing against the tight leather straps Falcen used to bind my wrists. My shoulders ache, my arms are numb and tingling, but I doubt voicing any of this to Falcen will elicit his sympathies.
Since we’re on speaking terms again, I say, “You stole a piece of me back there. When you put your hand around my throat. I can feel the ... gap.”
The line of Falcen’s shoulders goes rigid, but he continues staring straight ahead. “It was merely a sip.”
“Really? You looked like you enjoyed it. Almost as if you didn’t want to stop.”
Falcen’s heels dig into the ground, coming to a sudden halt.
I would’ve slammed into his back had he not whirled around at the same time, and my face collides with his armored chest. The impact forces the air out of my lungs in a whoosh, and a head-splitting pain radiates from my nose.
My heel catches on a root, and I plummet, my bound hands useless to break the fall.
The impact jars my teeth, and I bite my tongue, blood bursting into my mouth.
Falcen looms over me, his face a thunderhead. “You know nothing of what I want. Or of what I enjoy.”
I use my legs to heave myself backward, my heart a wild drumbeat as tears of pain leak from my eyes.
Falcen matches my retreat with a predatory stride. He crouches and seizes my jaw in a bruising grip, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“The academy will carve you into something deadly and beautiful,” he says, his breath hot and sweet against my face. “A weapon honed to a brutal edge. You should be grateful for such a gift.”
I wrench my head free, the acrid taste of fear coating my tongue. “Like you?”
Falcen’s mouth twists into a sneer. I flinch, not from the look on his face, but from the realization I just called him beautiful.
He is, of course. But he’s also horrible. And mean. And stripped of humanity.
And beautiful.
Even now, with the gold in Falcen’s eyes threatening to overtake the blue, to overtake my soul, I’m mesmerized by the contrast to his golden skin, the sheer darkness of his hair, so black that it’s as if Lux retreated from the sky, leaving the night to Nox so he may cloak all of his terrible pleasures.
My lips twist into their own version of a sneer.
I blame Falcen’s nibbling on my soul for these thoughts.
Yes, I can appreciate a solid male form, especially one whose musculature is evident even through soul-rendering metal and whose face was molded by the gods themselves, rather than left to luck.
I’ve bedded one—Edon. I didn’t hate the sex, but I didn’t enjoy it, either, so I haven’t searched for it since.
That is, until my thighs do a little dance every time Falcen hooks me by the throat.
By all that is Lux, this better be because he sampled an essential part of me.
Falcen reads my expression, frowns, then blinks the gold back into its border. He rises to his full height, towering over my prone form. “Get up. We have miles yet to cover before nightfall.”
I struggle to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. Falcen watches, impassive, as I find my balance. Without another word, he turns and resumes his relentless pace, expecting me to follow.
I have no choice but to stumble after him, deeper into the cheerless woods.
“Don’t Soulren have easier ways to travel from place to place than by foot?” I ask his back.
He doesn’t answer. Falcen goes so far as to pretend he doesn’t hear me.
I sigh, my breath ragged from the exertion of matching Falcen’s grueling pace. The soles of my feet throb. Jagged rocks and gnarled roots catch at my toes, threatening to send me sprawling once more.
All I wanted to do was give my cat a proper burial. He was the last connection to my mother. If I’d known I was going to be kidnapped, I would’ve worn my farming boots.
Falcen forges ahead, his strides unwavering. He navigates the treacherous terrain with a feline grace that I can only envy, his footfalls near silent in contrast to my graceless stumbling. Then again, he has his arms for balance.
I fix my attention on the back of his head, willing him to slow down or for an errant tree branch to fall on him. Neither occurs.
My tongue probes the tender spot where I bit it, the coppery taste of blood still fresh. The tightness between my shoulders has settled into a bone-deep ache, my hands long since numb from the tight bindings. Each breath sears my lungs, my nose swollen and tender from colliding with Falcen’s chest.
A sudden, vicious muscle cramp seizes my calf, and I cry out, my leg folding beneath me. I collapse to the ground in a blundering heap, humiliation and frustration making my eyes go hot.
Falcen stops and turns, his eyes filigreed in that otherworldly gold in the waning daylight. He stalks forward.
“Get up.”
I glare at him, irritation warring with the instinctive urge to cower.
“I can’t,” I say through clenched teeth. “My leg—”
Falcen crouches down, his face mere inches from mine.
“You’re weak. That’ll be stripped from you soon enough. Until then, walk.”
His fingers close around my upper arm, and he hauls me to my feet with insulting ease. I sway, my muscles screaming in protest, but Falcen’s hold keeps me upright.
“Or I’ll carry you, and I promise you won’t be a damsel in distress so much as a sack of potatoes.” He releases me with a slight shove.
The thought of being slung over his shoulder, helpless and mortified, propels me into motion. I limp forward, each step an agony, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter again.
Falcen falls into step beside me, his pace mercifully slower than before. The silence stretches between us, broken only by my labored breathing and the occasional snap of a twig beneath my feet.
“You were willing to leap into a Veil tear.”
Falcen breaking our uncomfortable silence with random statements is something I’m coming to expect. “Yes.”
“Without any regard to what is on the other side.”
I mutter, “Sudden death. That’s what’s on the other side.”
“And you weren’t afraid of it.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway.
“Of course I was,” I say, forcing my limping gait to keep pace with him. “But the thought of you and what you would do to me frightened me more.”
I tell myself it’s the encroaching shadows playing with my mind and that I didn’t actually see him grin just now.
“The Veil tears are how we travel,” he says.
My brows come together. “I don’t understand.”
“Soulren. Specifically, the Elite Soulren use the tears to travel between provinces. The way we manipulate the Void and its creatures helps us do so.”
I bring my head up. “But the Void is on the other side of those tears. It’s how they get into our world.”
Falcen’s jaw tightens, clearly annoyed at having to explain further. “Yes. That’s why only the Elite can use them. We know how to navigate without letting more creatures through.”
I open my mouth to ask why we’re not using one when we were just at one, but he cuts me off with a sharp look.
“Your magick is unstable. Unpredictable. Using a tear could be catastrophic. So we’re doing this the long way. End of discussion.”
I can’t help pushing, “But how do you—”
Falcen clamps a hand over my mouth. His skin is hot, rough, calloused, the metallic smell of his armor mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest. I try to angle away from his grip, but it’s as immobile as the rest of him.
“I am no teacher, but I’ll tell you this,” he growls. “Obey the Elite. Follow my orders. Understood?”
He releases me, and I limp backward from the force, drawing in a quivering breath. The skin around my mouth tingles from the pressure of his hand, and I wish I could rub it away.
“And if I don’t?” I ask hoarsely.
The question slips out before I can stop it, reaching his ears like a challenge.
Falcen’s lips curve into a smile that holds no warmth. “Then I’ll make you.”
His broad shoulders block out the remaining light, his shadow engulfing me. I crane my neck to meet his gaze, refusing to back down even as my heart hammers against my ribs.
Falcen’s hand twitches at his side, as if he’s restraining himself from calling his sword. “Don’t tempt me.”
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. He’s right. I don’t know the extent of his magick, the true depth of his cruelty. But I do know that I won’t let him disregard me.
Falcen’s jaw clenches, his neck muscles corded with tension. For a moment, I think he’ll give in to his urge, call his sword, and kill me. But then he exhales, a sharp hiss of breath, and spins away.
“We need to keep moving. Nightfall is almost upon us, and you don’t want to be caught out here in the dark.”
I shudder at the memory of the Void hound and Falcen’s certainty that more would come looking for me.
“I’d move faster if I had my arms.”
Predictably, Falcen doesn’t respond.