Chapter 57 – Rowan
ROWAN
The sounds of the battle fade away the further I walk into the dark forest.
It’s quiet.
There’s no trace of Ayer, nor the soldier he was fighting the last time I saw him.
Chewing my lip, I look down, searching the ground for tracks when a bright splash of crimson catches my eye. Tiny, sprinkled droplets of blood decorate the dead leaves below that crunch under my feet as I lean down for closer inspection.
The droplets continue every few feet, trailing deeper into the forest.
I glance back at the village. It’s still in chaos. Ayer’s men are busy subduing the remaining raiders and checking on the state of the surviving villagers while fires still burn all around.
No one is looking for him.
I swallow hard, surveying my surroundings before reluctantly following the trail of blood. The sudden oppressive quiet of the woods has me more anxious than the battle at my back.
I grip Theo’s knife tight in my palm.
Knowing what’s at stake, I move quickly but carefully. The forest only grows darker the deeper I go into it, the shadows thickening, pressing in around me as if they have a life of their own.
My skin prickles and the hair on the back of my arms stands up as a dark feeling slides down my spine.
I should go back.
I should get Theo or Hayes to hunt down Ayer. He might already be dead. It’s possible—with that wound he suffered.
Though if he were dead…
I reach for my magic. The warmth of it brings comfort as it rises to meet me—until it slams hard against that impenetrable wall of ink.
Pain lances through the inside of my wrist, the mark glowing subtly in the dark woods.
I pull back my sleeve, watching the rune smolder as it absorbs my magical blow.
Most runes tie back to the life of their creator.
If it remains, then Ayer still lives. Probably.
The shadows continue to grow thicker, and I slow my steps, every instinct screaming at me to turn back. I almost listen. My foot shifts back a half step, hesitantly.
Crack.
I freeze. The sound didn’t come from behind me but rather from somewhere up ahead.
My pulse is pounding loudly enough to drown out my thoughts. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before taking another step toward the sound.
My knees hit the dirt hard, my foot catching on something. I twist, looking over my shoulder, and realize I tripped over a body.
I scramble away from him, moving backward along the forest floor. I recognize the body as belonging to the fae raider Ayer pursued into the woods. My eyes drop to the pool of blood soaking the earth beneath him.
He’s dead. My breath catches. Because if he’s here…
Ayer.
He’s only a few feet away on the ground, propped up rather uncomfortably against a half-rotted log.
Slowly, I push myself to my feet, keeping my eyes locked on the Kovari captain. He holds his sword in one hand while the other is pressed into his side. Though it’s doing little to stop the dark blood that continues to spill out between his fingers.
The blade did indeed run him through, just like I thought it did.
His normally tanned skin is now ghostly white, his breaths shallow. And it grows increasingly labored the longer I stand here.
He’s dying.
Ayer knows it too.
My heart thumps faster.
I’m alone.
Ayer’s men, including Theo and Hayes, are still preoccupied with the dwindling battle just beyond the trees. I’m armed. I have the bow Ayer gave me and Theo’s knife. Not to mention Ayer’s bow, his sword, and his bag all lay strewn around him, ripe for the taking.
My fist tightens on Theo’s knife.
I can’t kill him. Not with his rune still carved into my arm, but I can run. I might even reach the border of the Iron Kingdom before any of them even realize I’m gone, and quietly disappear in the chaos.
I could just leave Ayer to die.
And when he does, the rune will break, and I will be free.
A cool breeze stirs my hair, blowing in from the east, as if beckoning me toward the mountains. I look up, peering through the thick shadows to the sunlight peeking overhead.
I can marry Kane and fulfill my duty to Sitara. Skye will send troops to aid my father and brothers to end this war and future border skirmishes.
It’s all within my grasp.
I don’t even need to kill him myself… All I have to do is walk away.
And do it now before any of Ayer’s men come looking.
For some reason, my feet won’t move. My gaze drops back to Ayer, watching his chest rise and fall. He’s close. His breathing has become more labored in the time I’ve been standing here. His eyes remain closed. I’m not even sure he’s conscious.
I eye the bag by his side, inching closer until I’m close enough to grab it with shaky hands. Ayer’s nostrils flare, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Rose Princess,” he murmurs so low I barely hear him.
I freeze, refusing to breathe as I stare down at him. His eyes flicker open. He says nothing, and neither do I, as he reads the intent in my eyes. Blood continues to pour from his wound, but yet here he is, smirking at me.
“Run, sunshine,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “Run fast.”
His eyes fall closed, his breathing more labored than ever. The rune on my wrist burns so hot I gasp, yanking up my sleeve to stare at it. It glows bright and hot for another few beats before it starts to—fade.
My eyes shoot up, going back to Ayer.
Leave, Rowan. Walk away.
I can’t. I can’t move. I just stare at him.
He destroyed my home, took me prisoner, plans to use me as bait or revenge against my brothers—I still don’t know which. And yet, despite everything, he himself has never hurt me.
And when Riggs…
He protected me.
He pulled me out of that river after killing those men.
And when he left to come here, to save a village from unimaginable horrors, he let me come with them. Gave me a bow. Trusted me to keep my word and… help.
My word.
I promised him I wouldn’t run. At least not until the battle was over.
My heart twists in my chest as an inner war wages. I might not be able to hurt him, but if I walk away right now, I’ll be the one who killed him.
Because I’m the only one who can save him.
I stare at his face—his closed eyes, willing them to open. I want to see those steel-gray eyes one more time. Mocking me. Challenging me…
My gaze drops back to his wound and then to the growing pool of blood at his side.
Light, I’ve healed nothing like this before.
I don’t know if I can…
The rune still burns on my wrist, flaring in waves, pulsing like a dying star. My power only goes so far, and Ayers’ injury is grave.
But I could still try.
True intentions still unknown, he’s saved my life twice now.
I can’t explain it. I should hate him—I do hate him, but yet… I don’t think I can walk away, leave him to bleed out in the dirt alone while knowing I could’ve saved him.
I stare at his mark on my wrist and back to Ayer, my decision firming as I sheath Theo’s knife before kneeling down next to him. I release a shaky breath, my palm hovering just over his side, hesitating before touching him.
He’ll know.
I shake the thought from my head. I’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Whether my power will work is a big if.
I reach forward again, my fingers tracing gently along his side, marking the edges of the wound. Ayer shifts at my touch. Heat crawls up my neck as I feel his gaze settle on me, waiting until I finally lift my eyes to meet his.
“Hoping to get in the last hit, Princess?” he muses, though his voice is shaky. His skin is a terrifying shade of white.
“Something like that,” I whisper, pushing his shirt up to get a better look at his injury.
Light. The sword sliced clean between his ribs, leaving behind a two-inch gaping cut.
Ayer’s eyes roll back, his breaths turning shallow again beneath my palm.
It’s now or never.
Knowing I’ll probably live to regret this, I bury the thought, and pull anyway.
For several long seconds, nothing happens.
I close my eyes, focusing on my power, and pull again.
I squeeze them tighter as I pull harder, drawing more of Ayer’s wound into myself.
Fire rips through my flesh as muscle tears and bone protests, the injury settling into my body piece by agonizing piece.
Warmth blooms from my ribs where my own blood spills out as I take the wound from him.
Ayer’s pain pours into me in one brutal rush, and I have to bite down hard on my lip to keep from screaming.
I can’t take it all—there’s no way—but if I can take enough… enough to chase off death… The pain is a good sign. It’s working. I can only hope it’s enough.
I pull and pull, the rune blazing as I wring every last drop of power from inside it. Ayer’s wound stitches itself together from the inside out, but the cost is more than I can bear. The lethal wound is just that—lethal. And I’m starting to doubt my ability to reverse that trajectory.
Pain sears and my vision tunnels. I’m on the cusp of burnout when something new swirls inside me.
My eyes fly open at the unfamiliar sensation. The power stretches through me, dark and vast, as though I’ve reached into a starless night. It’s magic—I’m certain—but nothing I’ve previously wielded has ever felt like this.
It should frighten me.
Instead, I want more.
I recoil, releasing it in a rush before the temptation can take root. Whatever that was…
It was powerful. Sweet—intoxicating, even...
I take a deep breath before reaching for it again, careful only to take what I need, letting it fill the nearly depleted stores of my own magic. I pull from the endless well inside me, drawing from it and feeling Ayer’s wound heal completely while taking no more from my flesh.
Jerking back in shock, I stare at the shiny new silver scar under my palm.
That’s not possible.
Panic takes over. Did I go too far? Take too much?
I shouldn’t have been able to heal it entirely. Not with the amount of damage that had been inflicted on his body. I’d be dead.
My hand flies to my side.
The matching wound is there—but shallow. Not anywhere near as deep as his was.
Bloody? Yes
Painful? Seriously.
But not fatal.
The moment my fingers brush my wound, the adrenaline keeping me upright evaporates. The world tilts. Darkness tunnels the edges of my vision, and I pitch forward, barely catching myself before collapsing onto Ayer’s chest.
A flash of steel gray.
I freeze.
Ayer’s eyes are open; the familiar hard glare gone. Instead, he simply stares at me. We’re only inches apart, his confusion laid bare for the first time.
“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t tell anyone.”
My gaze searches his, desperate for a promise, for anything.
It’s all I manage before darkness crashes over me, pulling me under.