20. Henry
HENRY
T hree Divine-damn days. That’s how long Harlow has been hiding in her room. That’s how long I’ve been locked out of my own washroom. That’s how long she’s hogged Kyrin.
It’s childish to be jealous that my wolf is so loyal to her. I want him protecting her around the fort since she is as reckless as she is curious. But Ky has never warmed to anyone except me. He’s even surly toward Bryce and Carter. Yet he won’t leave Harlow’s side.
It makes me even more curious what she’s doing in there, because despite what her bodyguard has said repeatedly, I’m not buying that she’s cloistered herself to pray to the Divine.
The cold morning air stings my cheeks as I run through the hunt grounds behind the estate.
The staccato beat of Carter and Bryce’s familiar gaits behind me is soothing, as is their bickering.
But every time I settle into a rhythm, my mind wanders back to Harlow, her eyes fever-bright as she rushed out of the dinner.
I know she wasn’t drunk. I need to know what scared her off.
A haunting mist threads around the trees and over the trail ahead of us.
It’s not particularly nice weather for a run—cold enough to burn the lungs, damp enough to make everything chafe.
But ever since we were forced to spend the first two years after the wall fell mostly underground, I’m too happy for the freedom of it to complain .
I’ve run this path so many times, the steep mountain face to my right, the forest and fort to my left. The coating of dry pine needles on the trail keeps the ground from being too muddy and fills the air with their earthy scent. It smells like home.
The new moon and our wedding are tomorrow, and Harlow has to be ready.
I’m torn between dread and excitement. She has managed herself well so far, but she’ll be out of her element tomorrow.
She’ll need me to guide her through our customs, and that puts her at a disadvantage.
It forces her to be the one thing she absolutely refuses to be with me—vulnerable.
I know I can get under her skin, and I’m more determined than ever.
“I can tell you need a good tumble by how fast you’re running,” Bryce shouts from a few yards behind me. “You only have this much energy when you’re miserable.”
I push the pace faster, charging the last half-mile to the mountain escape tunnel. Finally, I stand tall and lift my arms, sucking in air as I check the foliage covering the tunnel opening.
The branches and vine net that hide the door are in place. Anyone else would miss the secret door, but we are trained to know these escape routes in the dark, by touch alone. These tunnels saved us ten years ago. They still save us.
I’m not particularly devout. Holly’s death and my own brushes with the veil made certain of that.
But three of the youngest children in our community being blessed by the Divine of Fortune with the ability to make plants grow in the glow of sunstones allowed us to create a full farming system inside the mountain tunnels.
That, combined with our miraculous survival, inspired devotion in many people in our community.
They think if we ask, the Divine will provide.
I’m not so sure. If the Divine are so eager to be at our beck and call, where were they the night the fort fell?
A hand claps down on my shoulder. I spin, slapping it away.
Carter immediately lifts his hands, readying for a fight. “Oh, is that how it is today?”
I hesitate. It would feel good to hit something—someone—just to have control over something right now, but I need to keep my head.
I step back and run a hand through my sweaty hair. “She won’t come out of her fucking room. I’ve been locked out of my own washroom for days.”
“Is this because Ky likes her better?” Bryce asks from where he leans against a tree, stretching his calves.
“Ky is just antagonizing me,” I say.
The two of them look at each other, a silent conversation passing in that glance.
“A dove came from Lunameade this morning.” Carter reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny scroll.
“And you didn’t think to say something earlier?” I ask.
Carter chuckles. “You took off running before we even said hello. When would I have had time to?”
I unroll the note addressed to Harlow and read.
A ble misses you. He hopes you’ll be wed and back in time for his birthday. - Mama
“ S eems innocuous enough,” I say, tucking the note in my pocket.
Carter shrugs a shoulder. “It does, unless you know that Able’s birthday was three moon cycles ago.”
“You think it’s a code?”
Bryce shoves at Carter’s shoulder. “We think they’d be stupid not to have a safe way to communicate with her, and there seems to be some urgency for them to get her back. The real question is why .”
I think back to the dinner we had with her family. She didn’t so much as glance at her oldest brother. The heir of the Carrenwell family is a pompous ass from what I could tell, laughing about drinking wine with the mayor, ignoring his sullen wife sulking into her own glass beside him.
It was a far cry from how Harlow acted around Kellan.
“I’ll ask her,” I say, brushing the sweaty hair back from my forehead. “I’ll see how she reacts. I just have to get her out of her?—”
Carter holds up a hand and turns slowly toward the forest behind us. The faint sound of footsteps echoes from somewhere down the foggy trail in front of us.
A moment later, Stefan emerges from the mist with his friends, Zach and Darren, at his back.
When Stefan sees me, he slows for a second before charging at me. He stops just a foot away.
“You are a fucking traitor to your people,” Stefan barks. “You slit Seth’s throat for touching a Carrenwell.”
I cross my arms and appraise him with boredom. “Seth knew better than to touch my betrothed. He tried to use his magic on her.”
Bryce approaches from my left and Carter steps into position on my right.
They’re ready for a fight. Much as I’d like to throw down with Stefan, the Laurence family would just use any lack of control as a sign that I don’t have what it takes to be heir.
Worse, Stefan’s friends also come from families who have a lot of influence in the fort, and while both are currently loyal to my parents, there’s no guarantee that I’ll inherit that loyalty.
Stefan laughs bitterly. “I can’t believe it. One good fuck from that city slut and you’re already killing your own people for her.”
Bryce shifts beside me, ever the hothead fixing for a fight.
I knew our people would doubt this plan and that Stefan and his family would use it as a way to cast doubt on us. It’s a calculated risk, but I’d hoped that I’d at least get to marry her before the mutiny started.
“Let it go, Stefan. We’ve told you that we have a plan,” I say. “I know when you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail. But we don’t need to risk more bloodshed when diplomacy could get us everything we want.”
He cracks his knuckles. “I’ve been patient for ten years, Havenwood. I’ve followed your family’s rules and I’ve waited for this score to be settled, but instead, you’re bringing one of them into the fold.”
His anger is palpable, a sort of prickle in the air.
I wish I didn’t understand it. It’s not as if I don’t feel the urgency.
I hate that it’s taken this long. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t feel the rapid slip of time—the ever-present guilt that I haven’t avenged my sister.
This is just another reminder that I’m running out of time to prove to our people that we can get them the vengeance they need.
They have earned peace, but none of them will have it until Harrick Carrenwell is dealt with .
I’d love to go at the Carrenwells directly, but that’s the fastest way to get us all killed.
“You’re not the only one who lost someone—who lost yourself that day, Stefan.” I hold fast to the last fraying edges of calm. “We have a larger strategy. I wouldn’t expect you to understand something that can be solved without fists.”
“Bet I could solve your new Carrenwell with fists,” he says over his shoulder to his two minions.
Zach and Darren chuckle in approval, and my blood boils.
It’s taken years to master my temper—to not rise to every occasion.
Showing weakness now would destroy the goodwill I’ve tried so hard to build after years of holding back.
The only thing separating me and Stefan now is my ability to be temperate and think about the larger picture.
I have half a mind to let him try. I can’t decide if it would be more satisfying to break his nose myself or to see the stunned look on his face when Harlow does it.
They all think what I thought before meeting her—that she’s a coddled city girl. But she’s not soft and trusting. She’s vicious and conniving—a viper waiting for her moment to strike.
Stefan’s grin slips into a frown. He’s not satisfied that he hasn’t baited me into a fight.
I’ve had years of holding my tongue when I’d like to put someone in their place.
Years of listening to half the fort talk about how they could rule better than my family without ever understanding the burden of making decisions that affect thousands of people.
Years of judgment about the methods my mother turned to in order to save us.
They don’t like to think about who would have stood on that wall every night while we rebuilt if she hadn’t made those hard choices—if she hadn’t pushed herself to the very limits of what was possible with her magic.
There are people here who have an aversion to Asher’s gifts—but I don’t know anyone who returned who doesn’t feel grateful to be here—except Stefan, I suppose.
He uncrosses his arms, hands flexing again. “And if my fists don’t work, I could show her an even better lesson with my cock. I heard she made an appearance at hunt night. Have her wander out there again and I’ll race you, Havenwood. I could break her far better than you ever could. ”