Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Time slowed as the arrow cleaved the night air, a single shaft aimed at Casteel’s bare chest. Nero’s warning cry stuttered and died. He felt Casteel’s realization and saw him turn in a desperate bid to outrun the arrow.
Then the Skellarae mare lunged.
Not with magic, but raw speed and instinct. She charged from Casteel’s flank and took the arrow full in her shoulder. Steel met bone with a sickening crack. She reared, mane whipping the air, and screamed—a high, ragged note that tore at Nero’s chest.
Casteel dove beside her, catching her head as she collapsed, both going to the floor. His hands sank into her coat; blood darker than rubies oozed through her coat.
The Silver Guard captain raised his sword, face twisted in fury. But the ground trembled as an ancient stallion thundered into the clearing, nostrils flaring in a roar that set every horse there on edge.
The soldiers’ mounts panicked. Eyes rolling white, they bolted in every direction—men tangled in reins, shields clattering to stone. Riders unable to stay on.
“Don’t hit the wolf!” the captain bellowed, but his orders were drowned under the pounding of hooves.
Nero seized the moment. Cradling River against his chest, he sprinted down the slope, weaving between straining horses and fallen men. He raced to Casteel’s side, lowered River, and ripped off his shirt, just as Casteel managed to ease the arrow from her shoulder..
“She’s hurt,” Casteel gasped as an acknowledgement, voice choked.
“She saved you,” Nero said, pressing the shirt onto the wound.
But the Silver Guard soldiers were regrouping, swords leveled, advancing on foot. Nero looked up—too many.
“Nero?” River’s small voice cut through the chaos, and Casteel started in surprise as if noticing him for the first time, and his astonished gaze shot to Nero.
Nero stood, because he had to try even if he lost. “I need you to run,” he said, drawing the stolen mercenary blade. One against twenty-three, not even he could do that.
But then the old stallion let out a cry that seemed torn from the ground they stood on.
In all his life Nero had never heard a horse make that noise, and to be honest hoped he never would again.
Each adult horse moved their way through the herd to stand in a line next to the stallion as if summoned.
Nero gripped his sword and took a step but then without warning, with a thunder of hooves all the horses charged.
Great bodies slammed into the mercenaries, hooves crushing shields, ribs, and flesh.
From the corner of his eye he saw Casteel pull River against him, turning him so he didn't see, covering his ears so he couldn't hear.
One by one the twenty-three were driven to the ground repeatedly until they lay in a mass of broken bodies.
In under a minute it was over. Silence fell, broken only by the mare’s shallow breaths and the deadly echo of death.
The stallion turned and walked back to the mare, the other horses grouped so not even Nero could see the bodies.
Nero tensed because neither Casteel nor River had moved, but the stallion just bent his head, and licked the wound on the mares shoulder, then backed away and with a heave she got to her feet.
The wound hadn’t fully closed but to Nero’s astonishment it was getting there.
Although why he should be surprised at other animals with unexplained abilities when he had a wolf inside him he didn’t know.
“More patrols will come,” Nero said softly. “We move now.”
Casteel relaxed his hold on River. “I know. I wish we could just stay here but we need to get to Morven.” A gangly foal with a black silvery mane pranced over to them, barely reaching River's shoulder.
The little creature snorted and nudged the boy with its velvety nose, until River turned, making him giggle despite everything.
"He likes you," Casteel said, his voice softening as he watched the foal playfully circle the child.
River reached out a tentative hand, wonder momentarily displacing the trauma in his eyes. "Can I touch him?"
"Her," Casteel corrected them both gently. "And yes, I think she wants you to."
The foal butted her head against River's palm, then darted away a few steps before looking back expectantly, tail swishing in clear invitation.
"I think she wants to play," Nero said, a smile tugging at his lips despite the urgency hammering at him. "But we really need to move."
Casteel nodded, his hand resting on Miralisse's flank. "The Skellarae know these mountains better than anyone," Casteel said with utmost confidence. "They can guide us to Morven's estate through paths the Silver Guard won't know about."
The ancient stallion swung his head around, his wise eyes studying them all with unnerving intelligence. He dipped his massive head toward Casteel in what looked remarkably like a bow, then turned and walked deliberately toward a narrow cleft in the valley wall that Nero hadn't noticed before.
"He's showing us the way," Casteel said.
Miralisse nudged Casteel's shoulder, clearly expecting him to mount. When he hesitated, glancing at Nero, she snorted impatiently.
"Go on," Nero said. "I'll find my own ride."
As if in answer, a sleek black stallion with silver streaking his flanks trotted forward, stopping before Nero with proud bearing. He tossed his head once, then stood perfectly still, waiting.
"I think he's volunteering," Casteel said, a hint of his old smile returning.
Nero approached the stallion cautiously.
He'd ridden horses before, of course, but never one like this.
The animal's coat gleamed with impossible depth, and intelligence shone in eyes that seemed to see right through him.
When Nero placed a hand on the stallion's neck, he felt a ripple of acceptance pass through the powerful body.
Within moments, they were mounted—River seated in front of Nero—and moving toward the hidden cleft, the remaining Skellarae staying behind still blocking the bodies from River's sight. The ancient stallion led the way, picking a path through the darkness with uncanny sureness. Miralisse followed with Casteel, while the foal whinnied softly and returned to the herd. They moved steadily for a while until they reached the end of the valley, and the stallion stopped. Understanding, Nero dismounted holding River who was asleep, and let Casteel say goodbye to the mare. He smoothed his rough hand down his horse’s neck and met the old stallion’s gaze hoping his thanks was understood.
The stallion whickered softly to the other two, and all three turned to canter back.
Behind them, the herd had already vanished. Where horses had stampeded, the valley looked untouched—just rock and shadow under the moon.
Casteel glanced at Nero. “They’re gone.”
They trudged up winding mountain paths until they slipped into a hidden grove beside a clear stream.
It was dark—three to four bells before dawn—and Nero carried River, the boy still asleep against his shoulder.
“We’ll rest here,” he decided, his enhanced senses sweeping the shadows.
The spot was perfect: cover, fresh water, and animal tracks hinting at dinner close by.
Casteel gathered dry sticks while Nero kept the fire low.
“I’ll find us something to eat,” Nero murmured, watching River sleep so soundly.
Within minutes his wolf instincts led him to two mountain hares.
He returned with the kills just as Casteel settled down beside the boy, covering him with his own cloak.
“Where did he come from?” Casteel asked softly.
Nero paused, knife in hand. “Burned farmstead. Silver Guard mercenaries slaughtered his parents and planned to sell him to slavers. I showed up too late to save them—but I got him.”
Casteel’s face darkened. “You couldn’t leave him.”
“He has my son’s eyes,” Nero admitted. “I couldn’t save my son, but I could save him.”
Casteel reached across and squeezed Nero’s hand. “You did the right thing.”
Nero stared at the sleeping child. “I’ve dragged him into a war zone. He’ll never be safe.”
“And if you’d left him,” Casteel said, “he’d be dead. With us, at least he has a chance.”
They roused River long enough to feed him. He barely opened his eyes, swallowed a bit of meat, then collapsed back into sleep, curled against Nero’s side. Nero adjusted his cloak around Casteel, listening to the forest’s quiet stirrings.
“What about Morven’s estate?” Casteel whispered. “Where will he go when we get there?”
Nero studied River in the firelight. “I don’t know.”
“He could stay there,” Casteel offered. “Morven’s people could look after him.”
Nero snorted. “And leave him while we lead armies or chase prophecies that might kill us? I’m not losing another child.”
Through their bond, Casteel felt the pain beneath Nero’s words. “Then we find another way. We keep him safe—together.”
Nero looked up, surprised. “You’d help raise a child who isn’t yours?”
“He’s yours now,” Casteel said, laying a hand on Nero’s. “Which means he’s mine too.” Carefully Nero laid the sleeping child under a protective overhang on the other side of the fire where he would stay warm, then almost prowled back to Casteel.
Their eyes met, and they closed the distance in a fierce, urgent kiss—soft against the crackling fire.
Nero lowered Casteel onto the soft moss, their bodies fitting together with practiced familiarity.
The firelight cast golden shadows across Casteel's face as Nero traced the curve of his jaw with calloused fingers.
"I thought I'd lost you," Nero whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "When I felt your terror through our bond..."
"You found me," Casteel replied, pulling Nero closer. "You always find me."
Their lips met again, the kiss deepening as Nero's hands slid beneath Casteel's shirt, exploring the warm skin beneath. Despite everything they'd endured—the battles, the wounds, the sacrifice of the wolf-soul—desire flared between them, familiar yet somehow new.
Casteel arched into the touch, his breath catching as Nero's fingers found sensitive places.
"I never thought we'd have this," Casteel murmured as Nero's mouth traced a path down his throat. "Not with everything trying to tear us apart."
Nero paused, raising his head to meet Casteel's gaze. The silver gleam in his eyes caught the firelight as he brushed a strand of hair from Casteel's forehead. "Nothing will tear us apart. Not Doran, not prophecies, not armies."
Clothing fell away under urgent hands, and when Casteel came, he muffled it with a hand over his mouth, gripping Nero's shirt.
Afterward Nero pulled him close to keep him warm. “Do you trust me?” Casteel asked. "it's like you expect me to leave."
Nero brushed a kiss on Casteel’s forehead. “I’ve loved two people—my wife first, then you. You don’t own my will, just my heart and soul.” He paused. "I suppose I find it unbelievable you'd want to stay."
"Maybe," Casteel whispered, "this is why it's another good thing the wolf soul shifted to you. That we're not life dependent on each other."
Casteel felt Nero still.
"Because," Casteel continued, "we both know we love each other because of our hearts not any compulsion."
Nero kissed him for some time after that and they were silent. After a while Nero spoke again. “You still dream of finding them again, don’t you?”
Casteel’s eyes grew distant. “The mare—she saved me once. I thought about breeding her kind, but now I just want them to live free.”
River stirred and mumbled “Mama,” and both men’s hearts clenched. The boy would carry these scars forever, but maybe he’d also remember the safety they gave him.
“Let’s sleep,” Nero said, banking the fire to glowing embers. “Dawn comes early here.”
They arranged themselves around the fire, weapons close, River between them.