Chapter 35
KADEN
The fire had burned down to coals by the time Lyra’s breathing became low and even. Her dark hair was fanned out in a million directions on the rug, and her face was softer in sleep.
She looked nothing like the deadly huntress from the Quarter who slayed demons as easily as she breathed. She just looked like the beautiful female who’d ensnared my very soul.
Careful not to disturb my mate, I slid out from under the blanket, donned an oversized yaga-hide coat hanging beside the door, and let myself out of the cottage.
Fresh snow blanketed the village, and I was surprised to see the glow of a single ember flaring like a beacon in the dark. A rich, earthy smoke wafted across the narrow road, no doubt emanating from the source of that glow.
Pulling the coat tighter against the chill, I made my way toward the inn and up the rickety stairs to the porch. Adriel stood slumped against the railing, smoking a rolled stick of tevash.
I’d only ever seen my best friend touch the stuff twice — once when we’d been foolish younglings experimenting with things we had no business touching, and once the night after my mother was killed.
The fact that he was smoking it now . . . Well, I only hoped the pungent herb would soften the blow of what I was about to say.
“How is she?” I asked, accepting the smoldering stick and taking a long drag. The effect was immediate, loosening my limbs and slowing my relentlessly churning thoughts.
Adriel shrugged. “About as well as any of us, I expect.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course he hadn’t asked my sister how she was doing. Adriel was never one to talk about feelings. I wasn’t sure why I’d even brought it up.
“How are you doing?” I pressed, passing the tevash back to him.
He took the joint and flicked the cherry off the end, bringing it to his lips. He coughed, spewing more of the fragrant smoke, and finally managed, “I’m alive.”
A long silence stretched between us, extended by the calming, slightly hazy effect of the herb. Adriel wasn’t chatty at the best of times, and when things went bad, he sometimes didn’t speak to me for days.
But this silence felt heavier than normal, weighed down by all I needed to ask of him.
“The bastards chained me up and tossed me into a rowan-wood box,” Adriel muttered, stubbing out the end of the joint and flicking it into the snow.
“Left me there so long I didn’t know if it had been a day or a week.
The whole time, I kept thinking . . .” He trailed off, and a haunted look came over him.
He sighed. “I let you down, and I’m sorry. ”
“None of us noticed that you’d been snatched and thrown into a coffin, and you’re the one apologizing?”
“I’m your royal guard.”
“Not anymore,” I said quietly, my heart clenching at the words.
Adriel jerked around to look at me, his tarnished copper locks falling into his face. His gold-and-green eyes looked slightly glazed from the herb, but I could see the hurt reflected in them nonetheless.
“She’s going to need you more than I will,” I said, jerking my chin at the inn. I knew my sister must be sleeping somewhere on this side of the building, since Adriel had positioned himself between her and me.
“You aren’t suggesting —”
“You weren’t there in Cragsmuir,” I said. “They won’t follow me, but they will follow her.”
Adriel shook his head. “A few hundred Drathen refusing your leadership doesn’t mean —”
“Even if I could rally an army, I don’t want Alfrigg’s crown. Not if it costs me Lyra.”
My best friend frowned. “I still don’t see why you can’t be with her and take the throne.”
“The god of knowledge is never wrong. That is what the Fates have decided.”
Adriel cocked his head to the side with a dubious expression. “What the Three have woven can always be changed. You’re proof of that.”
But I’d already made up my mind. “The Dark Kingdom needs a ruler, and there must always be a Ferryman.”
“You aren’t seriously thinking about returning to Dorthus to wear your father’s crown?”
“I don’t know who will be king of Dorthus,” I said slowly. “But I do know that my sister is going to be queen.”
Adriel shook his head in disbelief, though I wasn’t sure if he doubted my sister’s ability to rule or if he was simply shocked I’d given up the dream I’d carried for centuries.
“Things are going to get very dangerous for her,” I said quietly.
“Alfrigg will know by now that we are working against him. When he learns that Sorsha is rallying an army, he will send every mercenary and assassin to dispose of her before she even has a chance to challenge him for the crown. If he managed to kill my mother’s only legitimate heir, the war would be over without him ever needing to fire a single arrow. ”
“Your sister doesn’t need a royal guard,” Adriel grumbled. “She needs a whole fucking army to keep her from dying from her own rash —”
“Sorsha may be impulsive, but she has the heart of a warrior. And the vision of a queen. She can do this, brother, but she must be protected. You are the only one I trust.”
“What about you?” Adriel shot back. “Who’s going to make sure you don’t get yourself killed?”
A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth, and warmth bloomed in my chest. “You forget, I travel with a huntress now. People who threaten my life within earshot of my mate tend to die extremely painful deaths.”
Adriel choked out a laugh. “I’m serious.”
“So am I. But I’m not a threat to Alfrigg if I’m not pursuing the crown, so he has little reason to target me. Sorsha is the one he’ll want. She’s going to need you.”
Adriel grimaced, and I could see him warring with his sense of duty and his utter disdain for my sister.
The two of them had been at war for as long as I could remember, though I couldn’t recall a single incident that had led to their mutual hatred.
The few times I’d brought it up, Adriel had brushed off my questions.
Over the years, I’d stopped caring. If I was being honest, his dislike for Sorsha put me at ease. I knew there was no chance of him falling for my sister’s charms, and thus no way he’d allow himself to be distracted by her beauty.
Finally, he said, “You don’t know what you’re asking . . .”
“I do. And I would not ask it of you if it were not so important. The future of Anvalyn depends on it.”
Adriel shook his head in disgust, staring out into the darkness. I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t refusing; he just wanted to make his displeasure known.
“Swear to me that you will protect her as you have protected me. Swear that you will guard her with your life.”
I could feel my magic stretching out between us, crackling in the air. I hadn’t intentionally made the decision to bind him the way I had Lyra, but my concern for Sorsha must have bled into the sentiment behind my request, infusing it with power.
Adriel, sensing my magic, let out a low growl of irritation. He hated magical bargains as much as my mate. But when the royal guard met my gaze, his eyes had sharpened with grim resolve. “I swear.”