Chapter 57
Derian
The door to the war room flies open, snapping so hard that it bounces against its hinges. Our discussion of Tyla halts as we look up to the frazzled, wide-eyed Fae who’s panting heavily.
The Fae who had walked Huntyr back to our room.
Fuck me.
I’m on my feet and moving before anyone can even process what’s happened. My forearm slams across his throat and pushes him against the wall with a strength that leaves him flinching.
“Where is she?” I demand, an animalistic Fae growl tearing out of my chest against my control.
Kaia is next to me, mirroring the sound with her own snarls.
“She’s gone!” He doesn’t fight me, just lowers his eyes in a characteristic show of submission. Lightning flashes outside the window, too close to the window for comfort, and thunder echoes around us shortly afterwards. “I went to check on her, and she was gone. The terrace doors were open.”
Of course they were.
I should have nailed the fucking doors shut.
Cal sighs behind me. “You don’t think she—”
“Obviously she did,” I tell him, forcing myself to release the guard and snarl at him to disappear. I don’t trust myself not to hurt him if he stays in here, not when my instincts are raging at me.
She’s gone.
She’s in danger.
I have to find her.
I have to kill anyone who hurts her.
“What are we talking about?” Ulna asks, a worry line forming between her brows. “What did she do?”
I don’t have it in me to answer her, to even process her question. My huntress is riding headfirst into enemy territory. An enemy she doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, and worse—trusts. Loves.
Huntyr would let Tyla push the dagger into her.
I won’t.
I… can’t.
“She scaled the damn wall,” I growl through a clenched jaw, moving at a breakneck pace towards the stables and trusting them to follow behind me.
I hear the sounds of their voices, but I can’t make out the words. Thunder sounds again, lightning splitting the sky open in a never-ending procession, and something in my chest tugs me forward, pulling me towards where I know I’ll find her.
Cal’s hand wraps around my arm, and I bare my canines at him, feeling my magic surging and transforming them into longer, deadlier weapons of their own.
It’s surprising enough to make me stumble backwards and run my tongue over them.
They’ve never done that before.
“I’m not trying to stop you,” Cal explains, lifting his hands in surrender. “We should bring others with us, though.”
Air is hard to take in. It can’t seem to move past the incredible pressure in my chest. I barely manage to nod and step back away from my best friend.
“Leave enough to defend the fortress. The rest will follow me.”
I’m moving again. I can’t stop long enough to wait for him to gather forces. We reach the stables, and I go straight to my steed, a thoroughbred Windmare. The fastest breed of war horse on the continent with a coat so dark it shines clearly under the moonlight.
“To the Wastelands?” Taric asks, mounting next to me.
I shake my head, already pushing my horse out of the wooden stable.
“To her.”
Somehow, I know that pull in my chest will take me right to her.