Chapter 27
Settlements carved themselves into the cloud forest as we journeyed closer to Sivy, providing more opportunity to stop for a proper meal.
But with it came the added danger of Sylaira being exposed.
In the previous village, the stablehands had whispered of a growing restlessness among the people as news from loved ones at the front of the war flew home. The advance had halted, and Zahal Ishim seemed to have no interest in pursuing the Demons further south in their realm.
I needed to return to Sivy as soon as possible. Soldiers’ reports were gripes disguised as truth. Yet the thought of entering the gates of Thalvireth, the ire that would surely await me, along with my other obligations, knotted my gut.
A battle of an entirely different variety warred inside me—my duties on one side, my mate on the other.
I glanced at Sylaira as we rolled into a town, alive with midday activity. Thank the Goddess her hood was pulled high, and she was slumped low in the wagon.
The main square was a hive, people coming and going from shops, children bursting from the school and running home to their mothers for food. A group of workers laughed as they sheathed their blades, taking a break from hacking away the overgrowth that always threatened to consume their homes.
We rolled to a stop at a hitching post, framing a cart already abandoned by its driver for a drink. This was by far the busiest settlement we’d entered since leaving Stadur, and then, the downpour had kept everyone indoors.
I rounded the rear, finding my mate scanning the crowd with wise wariness. The attackers in the forest had shaken some of the Elessarum foolishness out of her.
I held out my hands to her, and she accepted them. I savored the spark that lit at the touch of her skin. Hated that I did.
She offered me a small smile as she slid down with practiced ease. I grabbed her crutches and handed them to her.
The past few days had been almost…easy with her.
I didn’t trust it for a moment. Ease was a lie. Ease was a trap. There was no peace for me, especially not with her.
“Follow me,” I told her, slowing my pace to ensure she was in my sight at all times. These places were the most risky for her trying to escape—or another Elessarum member recognizing me and assuming she needed aid.
Especially with the color of her irises.
People stared at us as we crossed the cobbled square to the largest tavern, our dark cloaks pulled high. At least there, we’d go unnoticed among the midday crowd.
I held the door for her so she could hobble inside. Noise assaulted my ears immediately.
Nearly every table was packed, males and females laughing and carrying on wild conversations, shouting to be heard. The group of workers sat close to the bar, their table already overflowing with pints of ale.
I placed my hand on Sylaira’s lower back—out of protection or possession, I wasn’t sure—and guided her to a booth in the corner.
She obeyed, for once without fighting me, and shuffled into one side.
I took her wooden supports and leaned them against the wall beside me.
In this position, I had a good view of everyone in the room.
And Sylaira was hidden from prying eyes.
A barmaid approached, wiping her hands on her apron. “We’ve got a chicken and fried plantain dish or palm salad with shrimp.”
“We’ll have chicken,” I told her, digging in my pocket for a silver wing.
“Anything to drink?”
“Water,” I replied, plopping the coin in her hand. Unlike the obnoxious males on the other side of the room, I would be maintaining my composure.
My mate shot me a glare as the female walked away. “I could have ordered for myself.”
“You could have,” I replied coolly, lowering my hood and leaning back against the tavern wall.
“You didn’t give me a chance,” she shot back, nostrils flaring.
I shrugged. “Didn’t want you to.”
“Why, because the salad would have been so much more expensive, and you’d have wasted all your riches on it?” she taunted, crossing her arms.
“Precisely,” I replied, the corners of my mouth lifting.
She huffed, as she always did when she was annoyed with me.
“What is your favorite food?” I asked her, trying to change the subject. With how busy it was, there was no telling how long we’d have to wait. The last few days, Sylaira had offered me nibbles of her mind, around which she otherwise kept a firm barricade.
My mate looked off into the distance as she thought.
“River fish. Of any type. The flakiness, how they melt in your mouth if cooked just right…” She sighed, then dropped her head to her chest. Sorrow rippled down our bond, a soft, aching note that exposed my true mate beneath the mask of defiance.
“My mother used to make the most incredible sauce to go with it too. I never learned the recipe. Now I’ll never taste it again. ”
Fuck.
Guilt, hot and sharp, roiled in my stomach. An emotion I should definitely not be feeling.
“When did she die?” I asked, because it was better if I had a full account of my sins against my mate.
“Two years ago in a raid on one of the Elessarum’s largest strongholds,” she whispered. And when she lifted her gaze, the tears in her eyes gutted me like I was one of those river fish being prepared for lunch.
I remembered that day, distinctly. The horror of it stuck with me, even now. The screams as the hunting hounds sank their teeth into the calves of fleeing Angels. How my soldiers had put countless to death.
Iaoth never liked when we offered the Elessarum a pyre.
But that day, I’d insisted on one for each person who perished.
“You were there?” I asked. My sister had suspected the presence of powerful Seers, but when I returned without any, she’d thrown so many priceless vases at me that I’d had to Command her to stop.
Which only made the price I paid for my failure that much steeper.
And we’d been speaking privately. Had the whole court witnessed it, well, I didn’t want to think about what the consequences would have been.
She nodded, dashing the backs of her hands across her cheeks.
“Zuriel, Heraphia, and I barely managed to get away. My parents,” she looked to the ceiling, blinking back more tears, “sacrificed themselves to allow us a chance to escape. They held the door to the stables shut while we rode into the training ring. We used our magic to blast open a hole in the fence. Galloped into the woods, the cries of those we loved chasing us just as much as the hunters were.”
I blew out a long breath. “I am sorry, Sylaira.” The words tasted wrong on my tongue, but they were true.
She started, like she couldn’t believe the apology that had slid past my lips. But then her brow furrowed. “Are you, truly?”
A muscle feathered in my jaw. “I am. I know what it’s like to lose one’s parents in a violent manner.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but clicked her teeth shut when the barmaid appeared, our food in hand. The plates slid across the table with practiced ease, and then she set two glasses of water between us. “Enjoy.”
The crowd’s roar swallowed my thanks.
Picking up the knife and fork, I dug into the chicken. In silence, Sylaira did the same. The workers, now on what appeared to be their third round of drinks, began singing an off-key tune.
Their bawdy behavior grated my nerves.
I finished my food first, then took stock of the rest of the room, gauging how difficult it would be to exit quietly.
Thankfully, by the time she ate the last bite of her meal, the group of workers were paying their tab and stumbling toward the square once again. I hoped one would chop a finger off from their drunken stupidity.
Once they were out of sight, I rose, grabbing Sylaira’s crutches and handing them to her. She stuck them under her arm, and I let her walk in front of me. Eyes tracked our movements. I glared at more than a few, who shrank back immediately. I was the Issaraeth after all.
Still, when we emerged into a brilliantly sunny afternoon, I jerked my hood back up. Summer air brushed against my cheeks, humid and heavy.
I hovered close to my mate as we returned to the wagon. As she settled in, I checked on our supplies, cursing when I noted that the horses’ feed was low. Our lunch had taken too long, which meant that we couldn’t stop in a village that night to rest.
I glanced at my mate, then at the store only a few paces away. The windows were large enough that I could keep her in my periphery while I purchased what I needed.
“I need to buy more oats for the horses. Can I trust you to wait in the cart for me?” I asked Sylaira.
She lifted a brow, a smile teasing at the corner of her lips. “I don’t know. Can you?”
A growl rumbled in my chest. “I’m serious, Sylaira. Do you want to get out of the wagon again or stay here when I’ll only be a few minutes?”
“Are you really giving me a choice?” she asked, the tilt in her tone taking on a sardonic air.
“For once, yes. And I am already regretting it immensely,” I groused, pinching my brow. Why did she have to be so Goddess damn frustrating?
“I’ll stay here,” she conceded, bracing her hands behind her and tipping her head toward the sun.
I wondered what her skin would look like bronzed.
“Good girl,” I told her.
An almost imperceptible flush rose to her cheeks.
I yanked myself away, forcing my feet into the nearby store. Two others waited in line ahead of me. I kept returning to the windows, peering for a glimpse of my mate, who appeared content to soak in the light.
Finally, it was my turn. I quickly ordered what I needed, but the shopkeeper took a century returning with a laden sack.
“Here, I’ve got it,” I snapped, taking the load from him. What had been heavy from him was nothing to me. Thankfully, the bruise on my lower back had quickly healed. I slung it over my shoulder and plopped two silver wings on the counter.
I spun on my heel, striding for the square.
Only to find three of those workers from the tavern hovering at the end of the cart, speaking with Sylaira.
“You don’t look injured, beautiful. It’s me who’s hurting here,” one crooned, clutching his chest with pathetic, over the top theatrics.
My mate was tense in a way I hadn’t seen her since before our mating bond snapped into place. A hint of fear and anger trickled past her high walls. Power surged to my sternum, begging to be unleashed.
“Yeah, I can’t believe you’re with another male when you should be with me,” the second said, leaning on the edge of the wood and reaching for her.
Before I knew what was happening, I was outside and flinging the oats in the back. One of the horses whinnied at the sudden slap of sound.
“Touch her and I’ll break your mind before you can draw another breath.”
The male paused with his fingers an inch from Sylaira’s arm.
She whirled, relief softening her features at the sight of me. If she ever looked at me like that when she wasn’t in danger, I’d fall to my knees in thanks to our Radiant Mother.
I smacked the desperate thought away and focused on the task at hand.
“Issaraeth,” he stammered, leaping back like he’d been branded. “I didn’t realize–”
“No, you didn’t,” I snarled, stalking forward.
The three froze like prey that saw their death in the dark. True fear flashed in each pair of weak-shaded irises.
“Sir, we’re sorry. We were just–”
“On your way back to work?” I lifted a brow, daring them to say otherwise.
“Yes, sir, we shouldn’t have stopped. Nothing will keep the trees back but us,” the third laughed nervously.
I said nothing, fingers flexing at my sides, while they took healthy steps back.
“We’ll be going now,” the smart one said, grasping the two who had been flirting with my mate and giving them a tug.
“Run.”
I didn’t need to Command them for them to obey. They took off, nearly stumbling over an uneven stone. Satisfaction curled through me as one ran smack into a passing donkey.
Dragging in a breath through my nostrils, I forced myself to regain control before I faced Sylaira.
When I did, her mouth was open. “I–” she started, then cleared her throat. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
I stepped closer, the rest of the word disappearing. Sun highlighted flecks of deep blue amid the otherwise glacial hue of her eye.
“You think I’d let them lay a hand on what’s mine?” The claim rasped out of me before I could cage it.
“You keep saying I’m yours, but I never consented to that.” Sylaira’s words didn’t land with their usual bite. That almost made it worse.
The statement lingered between us. But I refused to take back what I said.
She was my mate, and I had a duty to her too. And that included protecting her from lecherous males as much as the ones who sought to take her from me.
“Let’s go.” I lifted the lip of the wagon and slammed the pins into place.
Then, I rounded to the front and unhitched the horses. The familiar motions did nothing to soothe the riot of emotion inside me.
It wasn’t until we were far, far out of the settlement that the vines constricting my chest eased.
And for the first time, I wondered if there was a possibility that Sylaira could change her opinion of me.
And if letting her see a fraction of the real truth might be the very thing that destroyed me.