Chapter 22
Stars hung high above me as my vision slowly returned.
My sight blurred as an insistent pounding radiated from my piercing.
It felt like I’d been hollowed out, my magic siphoned away until only the fragile outline of myself remained, my soul straining against a body too weak to contain it. My limbs were cold, unresponsive.
This was new. Even at the Lornwild Shrine, even in the most reckless of rites with Elion, I had never felt anything like it.
My magic ran unbalanced, volatile beneath my skin, but I forced myself upright, moving until the world steadied and my surroundings came into focus.
The fire still burned low, casting restless light across the clearing.
Thanor sat opposite me, his attention fixed not on my face, but on my hand where it hovered near my piercing.
I lowered it at once.
“How long was I out?” I asked, my voice rough. “What happened?”
He shifted, reaching for another log and tossing it onto the fire. Sparks leapt briefly before settling.
“About an hour. I knocked you unconscious. You were dying.”
“I was dying… how?”
I pushed to my feet, swaying before crossing to the shrine.
The salves I’d prepared remained arranged exactly as I had left them.
At first glance, nothing seemed wrong. But as I leaned closer, they were glowing, deep and full, threaded with a pale sheen I had never seen.
They didn’t merely hold power—they hummed with it, moonlight still clinging to their surface.
Thanor stepped behind me, his presence solid at my back.
“They seem different. Cassius’s elixirs never looked like this. Yours look… very potent,” he said.
Warmth flickered through me at the almost-compliment. So I had shown him after all, my magic, my skill. I had proved myself. And nearly died for it.
“What is wrong with your ear?” he asked, lifting his hand as though to touch it.
I moved past him toward the fire where my satchels lay. Kharos watched me, head tilting as he tracked my every movement.
“I’m going to walk a little farther, near the lake,” I said, sidestepping his question. “I need to clear my head.”
“Stay within sight.” His stare followed me, a weight between my shoulders even as the distance grew.
I walked along the natural curve of the lake, head lowered, pace slow, exhaustion still weighing on my limbs. Each step felt like my body hadn’t yet decided whether it would fully obey me. Even worse—Thanor had seen me touch my piercing. He couldn’t know. I couldn’t risk him using it against me.
I looked up through the trees, then moved over fallen trunks, weaving between vines that thickened with every step. The lake disappeared behind me, swallowed by shadow and branches, until the forest closed in and I was alone with the quiet and my unanswered questions.
A small clearing opened ahead, ringed with old stumps. I lowered myself onto one, bending forward until my head rested between my knees. My hands trembled, frailty still moving through me.
I had failed.
Yes, I had proven my skill—but spent far too much of myself in the process. In this state, slipping away was impossible. I didn’t even trust my legs to carry me back toward the shrine.
My hands curled into fists. It didn’t stop the trembling. A single tear slipped free. The narrow window I’d carved for myself was gone. And I had no one to blame for it but my own weakness—this cursed piercing that refused to obey me.
Why him? What was it about the two of them—beast and warrior—that made my piercing flare, my magic turn volatile? The questions circled without answer, tightening until frustration surged high enough to make me want to scream, if I’d had the strength for it.
A rustling behind me sent adrenaline surging through me, forcing air back into my lungs. I wiped away my tears and pushed to my feet, the movement too quick, the world tilting before it steadied.
“Thanor?” I called, scanning the shadows. “Is that you?”
Silence answered.
“Kharos? I know I didn’t listen, but don’t scare me, please.”
A figure cloaked in black stepped into the clearing. His face was hidden. Another rustle sounded to my left, and when I turned, a second shape emerged from the trees. Before I could take it in, a third stepped forward on my right.
They didn’t rush. They moved into place with precision, cutting off the path back to the lake—and to Thanor.
“Well,” the largest of them said as he reached up and pushed back his hood, “hello there.”
I froze. Dark skin. One milky white eye. The man from the market. He smiled, flashing silver teeth. The other two lowered their hoods, revealing hard mouths and scarred jaws.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
He took a step closer. “Someone wants you dead, little lamb. You should have died the first time… or at least taken Kharos with you.”
Oh goddess. Their cloaks—black, marked with a gray claw. At their hips, silver belts fitted with oddly shaped daggers, more claw than blade.
The man to my right shifted, blocking the last of the space between us, while the third angled himself behind me, closing the circle.
“Who?” I pressed, forcing steel into my voice. “Who wants me dead?”
He tilted his head, as if weighing whether I deserved an answer. His mouth curved. “You’re not important enough to know. You’re just in the way.”
They inched closer. My heart hammered, breath turning shallow.
There was nothing left to say. Only two choices remained—scream and hope Thanor or Kharos were close enough to hear, or run.
Before I could force my limbs to obey, the white-eyed man drew two clawlike daggers from beneath his cloak, the blades catching the thin spill of moonlight as the men to my left and right stepped forward, silver glinting in their hands.
My legs trembled, hands shaking, adrenaline surging through me.
I drew in a breath and ran.
I slipped between their outstretched hands and vanished into the vines.
The forest tore at me as I pushed through it, branches scraping my arms, boots striking uneven ground as I vaulted fallen logs and dodged jagged stumps, darkness swallowing me with every step deeper into the trees.
Behind me, their footfalls echoed through the trees, never faltering.
Their laughter carried through the night like a promise.
“Run, little lamb,” one of them called, his voice thick with amusement. “It won’t change a thing.”
They were hunting me.
I caught glimpses of them, dark shapes weaving through the trees with brutal efficiency, gaining ground with every breath I dragged in. My strength was already drained from the rite, energy bleeding away too quickly. I couldn’t outrun three rested men for long.
The realization struck with dreadful finality. Death was no longer an idea. It closed in behind me. I would end up just like Cassius and the others—only worse, forgotten in the forest.
Air left me in short gasps as I forced my feet to move.
I veered to the left and slipped behind the thick trunk of an ancient tree, pressing myself against the rough bark.
Darkness swallowed the forest whole, interrupted only by faint splinters of moonlight high above.
The forest held its breath with me, but beyond the pounding in my head, I could still hear them moving—slow now, spreading out.
They weren’t searching in panic.
They were taking their time.
“Come out, little lamb. Don’t be afraid. It will only hurt… a little.”
My hand slid to my thigh, fingers closing around the hilt of my dagger where it lay strapped against my leathers. I drew it free in a single motion. Cornered like this, I wouldn’t hesitate.
I lifted my gaze to the narrow strip of sky visible through the branches, the moon watching without mercy.
I had never been a woman of faith, never believed strongly in the goddess beyond my magic, the deity who demanded devotion and offered silence in return, yet in that moment I sent up a brief, wordless plea.
The answer came in the form of silver.
A clawed dagger buried itself into the tree beside my face with a violent crack, splintering bark and sending shards of wood across my skin, the impact ringing through the clearing. I flinched back, the force of it tearing me from my hiding place.
I ran.
I barely made three steps before a body slammed into me from behind, driving me into the ground. Air punched from my lungs as dirt and leaves scraped against my cheek. I twisted and kicked backward blindly, my heel connecting with something solid.
A sharp curse—then the weight shifted. I struck again, this time catching a jaw, and the man fell back.
I staggered forward, forcing my legs to move, but pain flared in my wrist and skull, blood slipping into my eye and turning the forest into a smear of shadow and silver. I fought to stay conscious, dragging in air.
It wasn’t enough.
Two of them closed in at once. The smallest lunged, his arm locking around my waist as he dragged me back into him, his breath hot and foul against my ear.
I swung blindly.
My dagger met resistance—then slid through. A wet slice. A scream tore through the trees as two fingers dropped to the forest floor. He stumbled back, clutching his hand, blood pouring from the raw stumps.
The third man stepped forward, idly twirling his dagger.
“Resistance is futile,” he said. “Your fate was decided by those far above your station.”
Fear froze me for half a heartbeat. Aelia. Sevrak. Lucina. Which one could stand against Decimus?
He charged.
I drove my dagger toward his stomach—but at the last second he caught my wrist and twisted hard. Pain exploded through my arm, tearing a scream from my throat as my grip failed and the dagger slipped from my hand, vanishing into the leaves.
He seized my arms, crushing them against me, locking me in place. I kicked and fought, striking at him with what little strength I had left, but he overpowered me easily, driving me into the dirt with brutal efficiency.