14. Chapter Fourteen #4
For the first time, Drake smiled—not his usual sly grin, but something softer, something genuine. “You’re something else, Evandra.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I quickly looked away, focusing on Wenna’s steady gait beneath me. “She really is amazing,” I said my voice barely above a murmur.
“She suits you,” Drake replied, his voice low, his gaze lingering. And for the first time in days, I felt a little more like myself. Maybe even someone stronger.
As the day gave way to dusk, the forest around us seemed to exhale with life.
The towering trees swayed gently in the breeze, their whispers threading through the undergrowth.
The golden light of the setting sun cascaded through the leaves, creating a shimmering mosaic of shadows and amber hues.
The air smelled of pine and damp earth, grounding me enough that I almost felt safe.
I inhaled deeply, letting the serene environment steady me.
The sound of the horses’ hooves slowed, and I noticed Drake had stopped his horse atop a large stone by the riverbank. He surveyed the area, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of threat before he dismounted with practiced ease. “We will camp here,” he decided.
I followed his lead, sliding off Wenna with a bit less grace. My legs were stiff and wobbly after hours of riding. I led her to the water and tied her to a nearby bank. She dipped her muzzle and drank eagerly as I stoked her neck.
Drake was already working, his powerful hands lifting heavy stones to form a fire pit.
The veins on his forearms bulged slightly with the effort, and I couldn’t help but watch.
He had more grace than someone his size should.
It was clear that building the structure was a matter of muscle memory like survival was his art.
After he was satisfied with his work, he strode to a nearby tree, removing his wide-brimmed hat and cloak.
He hung them on a branch, the moonlight catching on the crimson scales that peeked out from his collar.
Without saying a word, he returned to the campfire and settled onto a log, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“Evandra, may I look at your shoulder?” Felix’s voice broke the peaceful quiet, and I turned to see him gesturing toward the fire. His golden curls caught the last rays of sunlight, giving him an almost angelic glow. I nodded, and he motioned for me to sit.
Felix’s hands hovered over briefly before he began. His small fingers, surprisingly strong, pressed gently around the wound, causing a sharp sting to radiate through me.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice soft with genuine concern. Then, he closed his eyes, tilting his face toward the sky. A soft glow began to form within him— just like before. Warmth surged through my shoulder as the pain dulled and then vanished, melting away beneath his Rift.
“Better?” he asked, his boyish face lit with a small smile.
“Much,” I replied, flexing my shoulder cautiously. “Thank you, Felix.”
He nodded and stood, Felix gave a little flourish of his hand, as if dismissing thanks before walking toward the pile of supplies. Without hesitation, he began pitching the three tents we’d brought with us. For someone so slight, he worked with brisk efficiency.
I glanced at Drake, who was tending to the fire, feeding it small twigs to encourage the flames.
His Star-Glow caught the flickering light, making the silver seem even more intense than usual.
Despite his calm exterior, there was a tension in the set of his jaw, a weight he carried that I couldn’t yet decipher.
“You’re good at this,” I said, nodding toward the growing blaze.
Drake’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his gaze still fixed on the flames. “You learn quickly when the wild is all you have.” I let the silence return.
I let the peaceful sounds of the forest wash over us—the gentle crackle of the fire, the soft rustling of the trees, and the distant murmur of the river. The sky had settled into a velvety blackness, its expanse dotted with shimmering stars that cast a gentle, cool glow over our camp.
Eldrake broke apart a loaf of bread and handed each of us a chunk.
I took a small bite, savoring the simplicity of it, though the autumn wind nipped at my skin.
I moved closer to the fire, letting its heat seep into my bones.
Each ember’s glow was a reminder of safety and warmth, but now and then, a wisp of smoke curled into my lungs, choking me and drawing my thoughts back to my nightmares.
“Are you cold?” Drake’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up, startled by the softness in his tone. He wasn’t giving orders now; he was watching me. “You’re shivering,” he observed.
“A little,” I admitted, rubbing my hands together. The fire’s heat was a comfort, but it couldn’t quite chase away the chill that had settled into me. Drake rose, crossed to the tree, and returned with his cloak. Without a word, he draped it around my shoulders.
The fabric was thick and surprisingly soft, its scent unmistakably his—a mix of leather, rain, and something spicy and warm.
It filled my senses, making my thoughts foggy.
I pulled it tighter around me, trying to ignore the flood of heat rising within me that had nothing to do with the fire.
He settled beside me on the log, sending my heart into overdrive.
I have to pull it together.
“Thank you,” I murmured, looking down to avoid his gaze. My fingers toyed with the edge of the cloak as I fought the urge to lean into him, to feel his warmth fully envelop me.
The air between us felt charged, and I needed to break it before my thoughts betrayed me entirely.
“So,” I started, clearing my throat. “How did the three of you meet?” My voice sounded strained even to my own ears.
Felix perked up instantly, scooted closer to the fire, and poked at it with a stick.
“Commander Julian decides the teams,” he began. “But Fen and I… Well, we’ve known each other since we were kids.”
“Really?”
“She found me,” Felix continued, his tone softer now. “I was seven, starving, barely clinging to life in some half-burnt house. Fen was thirteen. Brought me food every day until I could walk again.”
My brows rose. “That doesn’t sound like her.”
A low sound rumbled from Drake—half grunt, half laugh.
Felix’s golden eyes warmed, though his smile was wistful.
“No, she doesn’t exactly scream nurturing, does she?
But I wouldn’t be here without her. She’d sneak bread into my hands even when it meant she’d go hungry.
” He tilted his head. “She’ll slit your throat if you cross her, but she’ll starve before she lets me. ”
The confession stole my breath. “That’s… amazing.”
“We didn’t have much choice,” Felix added with a one-shouldered shrug, pulling me back to him.
“Both being Riftborn meant we were on our own early. We were hunted. Our parents…” He hesitated, his voice catching slightly.
“...were either executed for what they were— or for hiding children that were.”
I winced, the weight of his words sinking in. “Felix, I’m so sorry.”
He waved me off, though his grin was a touch forced. “Don’t be. We’re survivors, love. That’s why this fight matters. Not just for us, but so no child has to grow up the way we did.”
Drake shifted, feeding another branch to the fire.
I stared at him, awed. For all his smirks and teasing, there was a fierce resilience under his warmth.
“But that’s also why Fen and I are never split,” he added, letting the moment soften again. “She’s the Sword Dancer. I’m the healer. Standard pairing. She cuts, I patch.”
Sword Dancer. I had read about them. Wielders of weapons that fought as if they were alive, controlled by unseen forces.
Capable of fighting with deadly precision and unpredictability.
Deadly elegance. They were some of the most formidable warriors among the Riftborn—and some of the most dangerous.
I tried not to imagine her cleaving someone in half with a flick of her hand.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, though it was accompanied by a pang of envy.
She was everything I wasn’t—strong, confident, and breathtakingly beautiful.
Felix caught my expression and grinned, teeth flashing. “Don’t worry, darling. She terrifies everyone. You’re in good company.”
I let out a short laugh. “Not exactly easy to get along with.”
Felix smirked knowingly, stirring the fire. “Ah, but once you chip through the walls? She’s not half bad. Still terrifying, mind you. But worth it.”
Across from us, Drake made a low sound—half grunt, half laugh—as he adjusted the wood in the fire. “She’s been that way since I met her,” he said, voice low. “Blade first, words second.”
Felix shot him a look over the firelight, lips twitching. “And yet you still haven’t bested her in sparring.”
Drake’s silver eyes glinted in the flames. “Because she cheats.” The corner of his mouth tugged, just slightly.
The fire crackled softly, its glow flickering across the surrounding trees, but my mind was far from the serene setting.
My companions were quiet, which I appreciated; it gave me space to wrestle with my spiraling thoughts.
I stared into the flames, watching as embers floated upward and dissipated into the cool night air.
My decision to leave Winshire played over and over in my mind.
Was I insane? Stupid? My father would certainly say so.
But there was something about the way these three looked at me, the urgency in their eyes.
The desperation. It told me this was more than just a reckless leap into the unknown.
It felt... right. Like this was where I was supposed to be.