Chapter 14
I lower my sword just as Lowan steps into the clearing.
Behind him, Selene and Zillah emerge, and with them a man I don’t recognize.
He looks like he’s related to Remli—same blondish hair, same robust build—but where her eyes are sharp and feline, his are hawkish, assessing me as if he could strip me down to the bone with a glance.
Remli dusts herself off, irritation flashing across her face before smoothing into an icy composure.
“Impressive,” the man says, voice rich with amusement. “I haven’t seen anyone get the jump on my sister in a long time.”
Remli scoffs, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “I recognized the fighting style. That gave me reason to pause.” Her eyes flick to Lowan.
Heat flares in my chest. “Pause? I had you. Fair and square.”
Zillah is practically glowing with delight at the spectacle. Of course she is. Nothing entertains her more than watching people circle each other like bloodthirsty wolves. Lowan, ever the peacemaker, cuts in before it can spiral. “How did you find us?”
The man—Kyler, I realize this must be Kyler—grins.
“We always patrol this far out. Remli and I are the only ones who can cover the distance quickly.” His tone is amiable, but I can feel his eyes sliding back to me, measuring, calculating.
“We’ve been tracking you for an hour. Once we realized it was you…
” He smirks at Lowan. “Well, we thought a little surprise might keep things interesting.” Remli’s lips curve in a satisfied smile, like she’s already rewritten the fight to her liking.
“And Sirona?” Kyler asks, suddenly serious.
“She’s well,” Lowan replies. “Wanted to come, but couldn’t.”
“Of course.” Kyler’s voice softens, though only slightly. “I’m hoping to get a few days’ leave soon. I’ll visit her then. Perhaps you’ll tell her for me.”
“Of course.”
Kyler shifts his weight, finally asking what’s plainly been gnawing at him. “So what are you even doing out here?”
Lowan glances my way. “Bringing her to see the King.”
It’s like the air itself stills. Kyler’s gaze sharpens on my hair, the red a beacon even in the fading light.
“Is she…?”
“Yes,” Lowan says simply. “Metra Donovan.”
My stomach knots. They talk about me as though I’m not standing right here, a curiosity to be passed around.
Kyler’s jaw tightens. “Where did she come from?”
“That’s for the King to answer,” Lowan says. “We don’t know. We’re hoping he might help her find her way back.”
“Hopefully back where she belongs,” Remli adds, her voice dripping with disdain. “Before her kind brings their filth here again.”
My fingers curl around the hilt of my sword. “I’m standing right here,” I snap. “You don’t need to discuss me as if I’m invisible.”
Remli steps forward, eyes glittering with challenge. “Yes, but—”
Lowan pivots instantly, sliding between us, his body a wall.
His jaw is tight, his eyes like steel. He doesn’t say a word, but the message is clear: he doesn’t appreciate Remli’s venom, not when it’s aimed at me.
The tension radiating from him is defense enough, even if his lips never form the words.
“Enough,” he says at last, his tone clipped, returning to neutrality. “We’ll make camp here tonight. If you two would like to watch the perimeter, make yourselves useful. At first light, we leave.”
The tension doesn’t break—it merely simmers, a storm held at bay by the thinnest of threads. The fire crackles low, sparks lifting into the dark. Everyone is gathered close—Selene and Zillah murmuring together, Kyler and Remli stalking somewhere in the shadows beyond.
I keep my eyes on the flames until the words slip out sharper than I mean them to. “I didn’t need you to step in and defend me against Remli. I can defend myself.”
Across the fire, Lowan doesn’t even flinch. He watches the flames, voice cool. “I’m aware. I wasn’t doing it for you.”
Heat shoots through me. “Oh? Then who? For Remli?”
His gaze finally lifts, steady, unreadable.
“Yes. For Remli. Because I know how she is, she runs her mouth and says more than she should. That’s not what anyone needed in that moment.
I saw the end of your fight. I knew you had her.
But I also knew you didn’t know who she was, and the knowledge that you’d killed someone—let alone one of my oldest friends—might have shattered you. ”
My chest tightens because he is right, but I’m too angry to admit it. “Oh, I see. And you always get to decide what everyone needs, don’t you? What’s good enough for all of us.” The implication hangs heavy—the raven, the choices he’s made for me without asking.
His jaw ticks. He doesn’t answer, only stares at me for a long, unbearable moment before rising to his feet.
Without a word, he strides into the trees, his shadow swallowed by the night.
I let out a shaky breath. When I glance back, I expect to see Zillah smirking, savoring the drama.
But she isn’t. Her expression is unusually sober, her silver-gray eyes flicking toward Selene.
Selene rises with quiet grace, her fingers lingering in a gentle brush along Zillah’s jaw, the golden swirls of her tattoo catching the firelight. Then she turns and drifts toward the tents, wordless—yet somehow certain that Zillah wants a moment alone with me.
Zillah waits a moment as Selene slips off to the tent, the firelight painting her features in shades of gold and shadow. For once, her usual glimmer of amusement is gone.
“I don’t know what my brother did to make you angry,” she says finally. “Knowing him, he probably deserves it. But everything he does, Metra—everything—is about protecting the people he loves, especially his family. That is the core of him.”
Bitterness rises in my throat. “Even if it means lying?”
“Especially if it means lying. He doesn’t do it lightly. If he feels the need to, it’s because the truth would cut deeper than you can imagine.”
Her gaze drifts to the flames, her voice softer now.
“When our father died, Lowan gave up everything to step into that role. With his fighting abilities, he could have been here—like Kyler and Remli—holding a prestigious post as a King’s Guardian.
Everyone expected him to pursue it. But he didn’t.
He stayed behind to keep us safe. To hold our family together. ”
The words hit harder than I want them to.
I know she’s trying to make me see him differently, and, damn it, it’s working.
She looks at me again, her eyes luminous in the firelight.
“I’ve never seen him with anyone the way I’ve seen him with you.
The night he found you in those snowy woods, he didn’t even know you, but Mother said he was beside himself with worry.
And when she told him she couldn’t heal you right away, she said his grief was visible.
Like the thought of losing you, before he even knew you, was physically painful for him. ”
Her gaze flicks to her own tattoo before she continues. “You’ve changed something in him. Whether you realize it. I never thought I’d see the day when my stoic brother would commission a dress for a woman he barely knows, but—”
I inhale sharply. The stunning Feyrnacht gown.
The one he helped me out of. It was from him.
Realization dawns on her face. “I see. You didn’t know, and he didn’t tell you.
” She pauses, her expression briefly unguarded.
“If you can find it in yourself to forgive him… I hope you’ll give him that chance.
Because it’s obvious, he cares for you.”
Then she rises and drifts toward the tents, leaving me alone with the fire and the storm she’s stirred inside me. The flames hiss and pop, sending shadows dancing across my face. My anger simmers, but beneath it, something else twists—a confusion I can’t name.
Lowan is out there somewhere, maybe circling the camp on raven wings. And I’m here, staring at the fire, trying to sort through the tangle of fury and longing he always seems to leave me with.
Morning comes too soon. My eyes burn from lack of sleep, my mind still tangled with Zillah’s words, with Lowan’s silence. But the world doesn’t wait. We break camp before the sun climbs high, the cold air biting my cheeks as I mount in front of him again.
Kyler’s hawk form cuts through the sky, a dark blur against pale clouds. When I glance into the trees, I catch the gleam of yellow lynx eyes tracking us. Remli. My lips curve into a sharp smile. I narrow my gaze and tilt my chin at her in silent warning. I see you.
Behind me, Lowan lets out what sounds suspiciously like a stifled laugh. Heat rushes to my neck, though I keep my face forward. By midafternoon, a change in the air prickles my skin. Ahead, the trees thin, light breaking through in long golden shafts. We’re close. Too close.
Lowan reaches over my shoulder, his hand brushing mine as he pulls my hood up to hide my hair.
The gesture is small, practical—but my heart still jolts.
Suddenly, the weight of it all presses in.
My chest tightens. “Lowan…” My voice is quieter than I mean it to be.
“Do I have any reason to be afraid of the King? Is that what you’re bringing me into? ”
“No.” His tone is steady, confident. “The King has always been kind. Benevolent. What happened here, much of it has been beyond his control.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, not entirely soothed. “Have you… met him?”
Something flickers across his face. “No. I never did.”
A twist of discomfort coils in my stomach. I know why. Because you gave it up, I think, remembering Zillah’s words, because you chose duty over ambition.
“But,” Lowan continues, his tone softer, “my father knew him. He always spoke of his eyes—startling green, unlike anything he’d ever seen.” His gaze flicks toward me, lingering. “Like yours.”
My breath catches. “Like mine?”
“Yes. My father would always say he’d never seen eyes like that, not before, not after. It was one of the first things I noticed about you. You reminded me of that story.”
My stomach knots, both uneasy and oddly flattered. “Do you think…?”
He shakes his head before I can finish. “No, Metra. I don’t know how you could be connected to him. Your mother has been gone for years, and you came here from somewhere else entirely. Maybe he can tell you where you came from. But I don’t believe he’s… family.”
“Right,” I murmur, looking down at my hands. “You’re right.”
The forest thins further, light spilling ahead. I lift my gaze just in time to see the trees break apart and the path widen. In the distance, carved of stone and shadow, the fortress rises.
I swallow hard, trying to believe him. He hesitates, then adds, “And his wife—the Queen—she’s the only other Donovan known to be alive.”
The words hit like a strike to the gut. “What?”
“She’s the last of the line. Until you.”
I clutch the reins tighter. The Queen. A Donovan. The knowledge churns within me, equal parts hope and dread.
“Should I… mention my mother?” The question escapes before I can catch it.
“Not yet.” His voice is low, careful. “Hold that close. Share what you must when you know it’s right. You have good instincts. Trust them.”
I nod, though the tightness in my chest doesn’t ease.
“And if there are no answers?” I whisper.
He’s quiet for a long moment. “Then you’ll decide where to go from there.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
His hand brushes the reins near mine. “You would always have a home at the Veynar Estate. If you wanted it.” My throat tightens. I can’t bring myself to answer—to admit that while I ache to find my mother again, I never wanted to leave the Veynar Estate. That I think… I could’ve been happy there.
The last of the trees falls away. The path stretches out before us, and in the distance—rising from stone cliffs like something carved from legend—the fortress waits.