Ashborne: Defiance (Emberquell Order #1)

Silent Steps

~ VOSKI (Pronounced VOSS-kee) ~

The forest was quiet in the warmth of the late afternoon and smelled of heat-baked pine. The shadows under the trees lengthened as the sun sank behind the Fyrehold wilderness.

Normally, I would have enjoyed the view, taken the time to appreciate the rugged beauty of the purple hills rising before me, and the crickets singing the sun to bed in this foreign kingdom. But suddenly, there was no time.

I had a sneak to catch.

I leaned carefully past the trunk of an old cedar, just far enough to look ahead with one eye, glaring at the hunched back of the woman creeping through the forest twenty feet ahead of me.

Though I couldn’t see her face from this angle, I would know that uptight coil of blonde hair in any light.

What the actual fuck was Lady Grace Barnslow doing all the way out here? And how the hell had she followed me this far before I’d sensed her?

‘You didn’t sense her. I did,’ Kham, my male, goldscale dragon drawled in the telepathic link we’d shared since the day he chose me.

I’d been on my way to find Kham, because the castle where I’d been doing some sneaking of my own was too far away to link in our minds.

My commanding officer had disappeared, and I’d wanted my dragon to help me find him.

I’d walked for hours, only to finally be close enough to speak in the link, and discover him delighted to warn me that he sensed another human, following in my wake.

It was true that without his warning, I might never have circled back to discover who’d followed me.

But he hadn’t warned me that it was the young, nosy, infuriating noblewoman.

A lady of wealth and noble lineage, who was now dressed in a stable boy’s cotton shirt and thick trousers, and draped in a cloak colored to blend into the woods.

She wore soft-soled boots that made little sound, and measured her steps to avoid dry leaves or twigs on the ground that might crunch and reveal her presence.

Keeping herself curled well below the forest undergrowth and saplings, she moved swiftly, but silently, deftly positioning herself behind a tree trunk before straightening to scan the surroundings—an attempt, no doubt, to locate me.

I frowned, watching her creep through the trees, as silent as any skilled tracker. Or spy.

Despite my frustration, I couldn’t help but admire her skill. And be unnerved by it.

I’d always had an uncanny knack for sensing an unseen enemy. If my dragon was right, it was a God-given gift. Yet, I’d felt nothing as she trailed me, despite the fact she had to have been following for hours.

Was she a witch? The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I hesitated in my pursuit when she paused and sank to a crouch, turning her head slowly so quick movements didn’t draw unwanted eyes—yet another clue that she’d had training.

It took long moments for her to scan the woods ahead until she’d turned so she was on profile and I could see the consternation on her pretty features.

The urge to stride out of my hiding place, to startle her, teach her that following me was a fool’s errand, was so strong, my body twitched. But I cautioned myself.

She’d slowed her pace and grown wary because she’d lost sight of me.

Her senses would be heightened. If she truly had been trained, and I startled her, I might find a knife suddenly in my chest, thrown in reflex before she was aware enough to hold it back.

Or, if she knew more of who I truly was than she’d let on back in the castle, and sought me as an enemy, she’d throw the knife on purpose.

She’d been told I was nothing but a servant to a visiting general and his companion. Why would she follow me all this way, except to kill me?

Yet, here we were, hours from the castle. If she’d wanted me dead and to cover her own tracks, she could have killed me hours ago, with little risk of discovery, and far less likelihood anyone would notice her absence from the castle festivities.

She could have thrown that knife before I’d even known she was there.

The thought made my blood run cold.

But I was still breathing. So, what the fuck was she up to?

Whatever her intentions, she was persistent.

Despite her unease because she’d lost sight of me, she kept her composure and continued scanning the ground for clues to my passage.

If she was skilled enough to find them, she’d soon discover that my steps began to circle—and the moment she understood that, my current advantage would be lost.

I sank into a squat while I assessed our surroundings for the best place to capture her, and remove any weapon she might be carrying.

She might be admirably silent, but I was a Furyknight.

One of the men chosen by dragons, and trained in battle.

Seven years so far, I’d been honed for war.

And more. I wasn’t just any Furyknight. I was Shadowfang.

Trained for stealth and subterfuge. A spy.

And far stronger, and more experienced in this game than she could possibly be.

‘Forewarned, you mean,’ Kham, my dragon, suggested smugly through the link.

‘You could have told me it was her,’ I grumbled in return.

‘I wanted to enjoy your surprise.’

‘This is a shock, not a surprise. What if I’d set a trap and harmed her? Or she harmed me?’

‘I would have warned you before you did anything actually stupid.’

I almost snorted. ‘Your concern for me is heartwarming.’

Kham rumbled in the bond, smug because I’d been startled—which we both knew was rare. I had a gift for sensing unseen presence. And a talent for stealth that surpassed even the men who’d trained me.

Yet, Kham had stopped needling me because he felt the weight of my unease—and shared it.

How had she managed this? Why hadn’t I sensed her? And why was she here?

My thoughts were grim as I slipped up behind her. At least, we were far enough from any habitation, I wouldn’t worry about silencing her. But I did need to uncover her purpose.

Since the moment I laid eyes on Lady Grace Barnslow, days earlier, I had suspected the prim and somewhat-timid woman was more than she presented.

I’d been called on a mission to guard my squad-sister, Bren, and assist our general in uncovering schemes against Vosgaarde.

As the only known female Furyknight in living memory, Bren had been in this kingdom to play the unpolished companion of our Furyknight General, and Battle Commander, Donavyn Arsen.

Who also happened to be her dragonbond mate.

Though very few at home—and none here in Fyrehold—knew that.

On the evening I met Grace, I was disguised as Bren’s guard and servant. Though I was actually her superior in our ranks, her role was far more central to this mission. And she’d been in the kingdom of Fyrehold longer.

Bren had met and liked Grace, and urged me and our squad-brother, Gil, to be gentle with the delicate noblewoman, who was unpopular with her peers.

But something about the woman set my teeth from that first glimpse.

I’d warned Bren not to trust anyone we met on mission—including Grace—because her instincts for stealth work weren’t yet honed.

She’d barely been raised to Shadowfang before she was assigned these orders to accompany the general, both of them openly attending the court of Fyrehold’s king, ostensibly to form political alliance with our powerful nation, Vosgaarde, and possibly exchange dragons for breeding stock.

Upon learning the schemes here ran deeper—and far more personal—than he’d anticipated, Donavyn called my squad-brother Gil and me, in to help, because he couldn’t safely investigate with his position so public.

So, Gil and I investigated for him. Only to uncover the plot targeting both Donavyn and Bren—and their dragons—for assassination.

Yesterday, Bren had flown her dragon back to Vosgaarde to inform the home powers of what we’d learned, while Donavyn remained here to thwart the assassination scheme. Bren had begged Gil and me to ignore orders, and remain with Donavyn. To protect him, while our enemies were still free.

We’d done so. But now, less than twenty-four hours later, Donavyn had disappeared without a word.

I’d been forced to walk halfway across the kingdom to find my dragon so we could search for him, and now this sneaky little vixen showed up.

The unease I’d had around Lady Grace Barnslow since we met burned in my gullet. I took a breath to center myself, and remind myself of what I knew to be true, and must keep at the center of my focus.

Bren had fled, hoping to bring help.

Donavyn and his dragon, Kgosi, the Primarch of our home herd, had disappeared.

When I attempted to find him, this unlikely noblewoman snuck up on me?

Lady Grace Barnslow was, indeed, far more intelligent and stealthy than she appeared.

I grimaced. When Bren introduced us, I hadn’t been able to explain why Grace made my skin crawl.

But her very appearance grated. Every carefully formed word from her dainty lips slipped under my skin like a thorn, and festered.

At the time, I had tried to keep my hostility in check for Bren’s sake. But I should have trusted my instincts.

Here the lady was, proving my suspicions right.

I watched as Grace crept admirably silently through the deepening dark under the trees, searching for me. Anger and frustration coiled with unease in my chest.

The niggling question wouldn’t leave me alone: Why?

There was no evidence she was associated with our enemies. Yet. Though I’d caught her spying in the secret passages of the castle, the problem of her had been beneath my notice against the men we sought to thwart.

I sank deeper into the shadows, sent up a prayer for continued luck, then slipped silently between the trees toward a thicket of shadows the evening sun didn’t reach, which Grace would pass soon if she continued to follow my tracks.

I would slip past her and wait in the dark to snatch her.

Whatever she was, however she had come to be here, neither of us was leaving this forest until I found out.