16. Chapter Sixteen #2
“And now we’re desperate,” Felix added quietly. “Your mother wanted you hidden, safe, for as long as possible. But the time for that’s over.” His eyes softened as they met mine. “The world’s uglier than it was when she left it to you. You don’t get to stay buried anymore. And I’m sorry for that.”
Drake met my gaze then, expression blazing with emotion.
Despite the hardness of his features, there was a vulnerability there that stopped my breath.
He wasn’t just a soldier; he was a man carrying the weight of a thousand losses.
At that moment, my path became clear. This was my destiny.
This was my fate, and maybe he was a part of that, too.
The Uprising needed me, and I wouldn’t fail them.
We rode for hours the next day beneath a shifting sky, the sun bleeding into gold before giving way to bruised twilight.
The landscape changed with every mile—the forest gave way to open fields, then back to thickets dense with tangled roots and shadow.
The conversation was sparse. Drake kept close, his presence a steady pulse just behind me, while Felix hummed tunelessly from the rear, his voice scratchy from disuse.
By the second night, fatigue tugged at my bones. I could feel it in the tightness of my thighs from riding, the ache in my shoulders, the way my head swam when I finally dismounted. We made camp in a hollow ringed by towering oaks, the ground littered with leaves that whispered underfoot.
Drake didn’t say much as he settled near my tent; he just gave me one long look—the kind that said more than words could.
When I turned in for the night, I wasn’t surprised when I heard the soft rustle of the tent flap and the familiar weight of him settling beside me.
No heat this time. No fire. Just the quiet comfort of his arm slipping around my waist and the soft exhale of breath against my neck.
The third night was colder. Rain threatened but never came. My cloak wasn’t enough to chase away the chill, and I found myself scooting back until I felt his chest against my spine. He didn’t hesitate. He just pulled me closer and sighed like he’d been holding his breath all day.
“You’re warm,” I murmured, my voice muffled against the crook of his arm.
“Dragons run hot,” he said simply, but there was a faint smile in it.
I turned slightly, enough to glimpse the outline of his face in the dark. “Is that your way of saying you’re useful for something after all?”
His chest rumbled against my back, the hint of a laugh. “Maybe.”
For a long moment, there was only the steady cadence of our breathing, syncing without effort. His hand brushed my arm—hesitant at first, then firmer, rubbing slow circles into my sleeve as though easing the soreness from the day’s ride. The touch was careful, almost reverent.
“You’re tense,” he said quietly.
“I’m always tense.”
“Not with me.” The words were simple, almost careless, but they settled over me like a vow.
Silence settled between us again, but it wasn’t awkward anymore. My breaths slowed, my body still pressed tight to his. After a moment, I whispered, softer: “I… usually have terrible dreams.”
His hand stilled against my hip, fingers curling just slightly. “Dreams?”
“Well… nightmares, really. Since I was a kid. But…” I swallowed hard, realizing how much I was admitting. “Not when you’re here.”
His breath shifted against my hair, and the quiet stretched long enough that I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. But then his arm pulled me closer still, his lips brushing the crown of my head.
“Then I’ll stay,” he murmured.
The words weren’t grand, weren’t heavy—they were simple. Steady. And they settled into me like an anchor, rooting me in place.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t afraid to close my eyes.
The next evening, after another endless day in the saddle, my legs throbbed with every step. By the time we crawled into the tent, I dropped down with a groan, rubbing at my thighs.
“Hurts?” His voice came from the dark.
“Like hell,” I admitted, massaging at the sore muscles.
There was a rustle, and then his hand nudged mine away, broad and warm against my leg. He kneaded gently at first, then firmer, finding the knots in the muscle. I sucked in a breath.
“Gods,” I muttered. “You missed your calling as a healer.”
“Don’t tell Felix,” he murmured. “He’d never let me live it down.”
He worked lower, down to my knee, then back up again, slow and steady. I relaxed under his touch—until his calloused fingers brushed a ticklish spot just above the back of my knee. My whole body jolted.
“Drake!” I yelped, stifling a laugh as I wriggled away.
He froze, then deliberately pressed his thumb there again.
“Stop! Gods—stop!” I tried to shove his hand away, but he grinned—actually grinned—and kept at it until I was laughing helplessly into the blankets.
“Mercy,” I gasped, breathless, half-laughing, half-pleading.
He pulled back at last, smug satisfaction glinting in his silver eyes. “Noted. You have weaknesses.”
I swatted at his arm, still breathless. “You’re insufferable.”
“Maybe.” His smirk softened. “But you’re smiling.”
And I was. My cheeks ached with it.
That night, I didn’t roll away from him. I shifted until I was facing him, our noses close enough that his breath brushed my lips. His arm came around me again, but softer this time, like he was afraid I’d vanish if he held too tightly.
It became routine. He never asked if he could come.
I never told him not to. And when sleep took us, it was deep and still and dreamless—no visions, no whispers, no shadows pulling me under.
Just his warmth, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket, steady and grounding, until even my restless mind finally surrendered to peace.
By the fourth morning, the rhythm of travel had dulled into something almost meditative — the creak of leather, the crunch of hooves, the hush between heartbeats.
But unease stirred beneath the surface. We were getting close.
The terrain had begun to change, the air thickening as if the land itself were holding its breath.
We entered a narrow gorge, the sheer, jagged cliffs towering over us like stone sentinels.
The path between the walls was a mere ten feet wide, flanked by ancient rocks that seemed to hum with silent menace.
Overhead, the brilliant blue sky stretched peacefully, a cruel contrast to the tension that suddenly gripped the air.
A screech pierced the stillness, echoing ominously.
It wasn’t the call of any bird I’d ever heard.
The sound carried a guttural edge that made my stomach twist. Drake’s posture stiffened instantly, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his dagger, his piercing gaze scanning the cliffs.
Felix, riding close behind me, seemed to close the gap, his presence feeling both protective and anxious.
“What was that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Before anyone could answer, a dark, winged shape darted across the sky above us, casting a fleeting shadow. My heart leaped into my throat.
Another screech, this one louder, and then— THUD.
The most awful creature I’d ever laid eyes on landed before us, sending a plume of dust into the air.
Wenna reared, her ears flattened in terror as I struggled to calm her.
I froze as the thing fixed its glowing red eyes on me.
It stood over seven feet tall, its leathery wings spread wide, tipped with gashes and tears.
Its canine face twisted into a horrifying grin, revealing jagged, yellowed fangs.
Talons glinted wickedly in the sunlight, and a guttural growl rumbled deep in its chest.
“What the hells is that thing?!” I shrieked as Drake leaped from his horse.
“Vyrmin!” Felix hissed, notching an arrow. “Get back, Evandra!”
Drake charged without hesitation, his greatsword gleaming as he unslung it from his back.
His boots pounded against the earth, a primal force in motion.
The beast lunged, its massive claws slicing through the air.
Felix loosed an arrow that buried itself deep in its shoulder, throwing its strike off-course.
The talons missed Drake by inches, raking the ground with a sound that made my skin crawl.
Drake roared, a sound both human and bestial, as he swung his sword overhead. The blade came down with deadly force, cleaving into the creature’s wing. Black, sticky blood sprayed, hissing as it hit the ground like acid. The Vyrmin screeched in fury, rearing back.
Above us, more shadows appeared.
“There’s more!” I shouted, pointing as two additional creatures dove from the cliffs.
They landed with deafening crashes. They surrounded us. Felix aimed at the nearest beast, his hands steady despite the chaos. His arrow streaked through the air and embedded itself in one of the creature’s glowing eyes. It howled, stumbling back before collapsing in a convulsing heap.
Drake faced the first beast again, his sword raised high.
He brought it down with all his strength, splitting the Vyrmin’s chest from shoulder to gut.
The creature crumpled, its black blood pooling beneath it.
But before Drake could retrieve his blade, one of the newcomers pounced.
Its talon-like claws jutting from the end of its bony fingers raked across his back, tearing through his leathers and leaving deep, bloody gashes.
“Drake!” I screamed as he hit the ground, clutching his side, his blood gushing between his fingers and staining the earth.
Felix fired another arrow, narrowly missing the third Vyrmin. “Move, Captain! Godsdamn it—don’t just lie there and bleed!” He shouted.
The remaining beast advanced on Drake, its wings flaring wide in a display of dominance. My chest tightened as panic seized me. He was vulnerable, unarmed—and about to die. Something inside me snapped.
I closed my eyes, willing myself into the creature’s mind. It felt like plunging into ice water, the Vyrmin’s chaotic, alien thoughts clawing at my own. But I pushed deeper, gripping its weak will like a vice.
“ YOU WILL NOT HURT HIM, ” my voice thundered inside its mind, echoing with fury.
The beast hesitated, its glowing eyes dimming slightly as it stood upright. Drake, bloodied and bewildered, stared at the creature—and then at me with disbelief.
Felix’s voice was distant, horrified and awed all at once. “Eva—what in all the hells are you doing?”
“ Take the sword, ” I commanded. The Vyrmin shuddered but obeyed, stumbling toward the corpse of its fallen kin. “Good.” It grasped Drake’s greatsword in its clawed hands, black blood dripping from the blade as it pulled free.
“ Fall on it, ” my voice was relentless. The beast trembled, its resistance weak but persistent. Rage flooded through me, hotter than anything I’d ever felt.
“ FALL. ON. IT. ” With a final, anguished screech, the Vyrmin plunged the blade into its own chest and collapsed forward, the sword impaling it completely. Black ichor gushed from its wound as its glowing eyes dimmed and faded.
I released the connection, my consciousness snapping back into my body like a rubber band. My vision blurred, and the world tilted. The last thing I saw was Drake’s bloodied face as he scrambled toward me, shouting my name.
Then, everything went black.