18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Evandra
I floated in the black lake behind the veil, lost in its dark embrace.
Voices called to me—muffled, distant, and distorted—but one stood out, growing louder with every passing moment.
Drake’s voice. His deep timbre became my anchor.
I let the sound pull me closer until, with a gasp, I broke through the surface.
My eyes flew open as I sat upright, my breath rushing out in a gasp.
The world slowly came into focus: the soft sway of motion, the creak of leather, the golden light of late afternoon. I was atop a horse—Drake’s massive black steed. I felt the solid warmth of his body behind me, one strong arm wrapped protectively around my waist, holding me steady in the saddle.
“Are you awake?” His deep voice rumbled softly, the sound just above my ear.
I tilted my head back to look up at him, ignoring the throbbing ache in my body, and the concern etched across his features made my heart flutter.
The sight of his handsome face so close to mine sent a rush of warmth through me.
Then, the memory hit me like a gale-force wind—the beasts, the blood, Drake falling, clawed, and bleeding.
“You were hurt!” I exclaimed, twisting in the saddle to check his injuries, but his hands tightened around me, holding me steady.
“Relax,” he murmured. “Felix already took care of it,” there was a flicker of amusement in his voice, but I could hear the exhaustion beneath it.
“Damn it,” I muttered, sinking back against him. “Did I pass out again?”
“Only for a little while,” he said, his tone indulgent.
“I swear, at this rate, I’m going to develop a reputation.”
He huffed a quiet laugh against my temple. “Could be worse.”
The tension eased out of my shoulders as I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and let myself relax. I sank back into him, letting the rise and fall of his chest reassure me.
“You didn’t have to save me,” he said, his tone softer now, his lips just brushing my temple. “But I’m flattered you did.”
My cheeks burned at his words, the memory of taking control of the Vyrmin flashing through my mind. The raw power, the fury, the desperation to save him—it all felt surreal now, like a dream.
“Is she awake?!” Felix’s voice cut through my thoughts.
I turned to see him riding up beside us, Wenna trotting along behind his sturdy gray pony.
His golden hair was windswept, and his face bore the lines of exhaustion, like keeping us all patched together was dragging him thinner by the day.
“Eva, how did you do that?! You made that beast kill itself!” he exclaimed, eyes wide.
“I…” I hesitated, the memory still sharp but impossible to explain. “I don’t know exactly. I was angry—terrified, really—and I thought if I didn’t do something, Drake would…” I trailed off, not wanting to say it aloud. “The next thing I knew, I was in its head, screaming at it.”
“Well— that’s fucking terrifying,” Felix said bluntly. Then, softer, with a tilt of his head: “Brilliant, but terrifying. Please don’t ever do that to me, love. My heart couldn’t take it.”
Drake chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest against my back. The warmth of his arm still around me was a comforting weight, and though I could have asked to ride Wenna now, I didn’t. He didn’t suggest it either, and the thought made me grin.
“What were those things?” I asked, my mind flashing back to the grotesque creatures with glowing red eyes and bone-chilling screeches.
“Vyrmin,” Drake answered, his voice dark. “They’re henchmen of Vyper’s creation. He played God, breeding beasts to serve as his personal killing machines. They’re built for violence, easy to control, and hard to kill.”
“Gods…” I whispered, horror curling in my stomach at the thought of something so unnatural being brought into the world.
“I suspect Vyper got word that we found you,” Felix added grimly.
“If he sent them, it means he sees you as a threat. If the King knows we’ve located a Seer…
” He didn’t finish the thought. He glanced at me again, his golden eyes gentler this time.
“Eva, you scared the shit out of me back there. But you should know—you scared the shit out of them, too. And that? That’s power. The kind that changes wars.”
The weight of their words settled heavily on my chest. I had expected danger, but this was bigger, darker than I had imagined.
Still, there was no room for regret. I had made my choice.
This wasn’t a grand adventure or escape from monotony.
This was a battle for survival, and I was a key piece on a dangerous chessboard.
The steady rhythm of hooves against the dirt path was the only sound for a long while.
I sat cradled in front of Eldrake, his arm wrapped securely around my waist, guiding the horse with one hand.
The warmth of his chest at my back, the rise and fall of his breath, grounded me—but it couldn’t still my thoughts.
I’d taken over a creature’s mind, not just glimpsed through its eyes, not just felt its emotions. I’d commanded it, told it to die.
The image flashed again—my voice thundering through its skull, the way it had jerked like a puppet, sword in its claw, eyes dull with submission.
My stomach turned. Was that really me? Was that what the Rift had made me?
I’d never felt power like that before. It had poured through me like fire in my veins.
Addictive. Terrifying. Necessary.
A cold sweat formed at the back of my neck, and I shifted slightly in the saddle.
“You alright?” Drake asked quietly behind me.
I hesitated. “I don’t know.”
He didn’t push. His silence said he understood.
I stared at the horizon, trying to calm the thoughts that wouldn’t stop spinning. You did what you had to. You saved him. But that didn’t quiet the part of me that whispered: What if next time, you lose control?
A strange tension built in my chest—dread and wonder coiled together like a snake about to strike.
Winshire was behind me. I could feel it like a door closing, growing smaller with every hoofbeat. Papa. The inn. The familiar rhythm of a quiet, simple life. That chapter was over.
Ahead was something else entirely. I exhaled slowly, my fingers tightening around the saddle horn.
I’d dreamed of seeing it my whole life—the glass towers, the paved streets, the shops full of silk and books.
Now, I was riding toward it not as a visitor but as a fugitive with a power I didn’t understand and a target on my back.
I wasn’t ready. But I wasn’t turning back.
“We’re getting close,” Drake said, his tone lightening slightly. I glanced up and saw both men adjusting their cloaks, their shining dragon-wing emblems gleaming faintly in the sunlight. I followed his gaze to the horizon, and my breath caught.
As we crested the final hill, the city unfurled before us like a storybook come to life. Castle City shimmered beneath the late afternoon sun, its spires glinting a pale blue against the horizon. Even from a distance, the scale of it stole my breath.
Massive stone walls cradled the city like a fortress, with iron gates tall enough to swallow entire wagons. Towers speared the sky, their tips aglow with gilded metal, banners snapping proudly in the breeze. But it wasn’t the grandeur that struck me most—it was the movement.
The road leading into the city was thick with life. Merchants hauling carts stacked high with fruit and dried herbs, riders wrapped in patterned cloaks, families shouting to one another across the din. I’d never seen so many people in one place. It was overwhelming—beautiful and dizzying.
The smell hit me next. Warm bread. Manure. Roasting meat. Perfumed oil. Smoke. Life. A thousand different lives tangled together, heavy and cloying in the humid air.
Drake’s hand on my hip tightened slightly.
“Stay close,” he said low. It wasn’t a suggestion.
I glanced up to see him pulling a pair of worn leather gloves over his hands, tugging the cuffs high enough to hide the faint shimmer of scales. He adjusted his cloak’s collar, then pulled the brim of his hat low over his eyes.
Only then did I notice the way his entire posture had changed—shoulders tighter, jaw set hard, eyes scanning every face. I followed his gaze to a pair of guards stationed by the outer gates: gleaming black armor, golden lion sigils, halberds resting at attention.
My stomach dropped.
Felix rode slightly behind us, his hat pulled low as well. His usual chatter was gone. He was watching, too, watching everything. We weren’t just travelers. Not here. We were prey.
I swallowed hard and sat up straighter in the saddle. My dusty dress clung to my legs, suddenly too plain, too rural, too Winshire. Every pair of eyes we passed seemed to glance our way.
Do they know? Can they tell what I am? What WE are?
The guards didn’t stop us as we approached, but one of them gave Drake a second glance as we passed. Just a flicker of interest—but I saw Drake’s hand drift near the dagger strapped under his cloak, just in case.
Drake swung off his horse with practiced ease and moved to my side.
He reached up and gently eased me down from the saddle, his large hands steadying me like I weighed nothing at all.
My boots met the ground, but my mind didn’t follow—I was already spinning, reeling as I stared up at the colossal gates looming above us.
They were unlike anything I had ever seen.
Cast iron and towering, each bar the width of my arm, the doors stood like sentinels between worlds—one I’d known all my life and one I’d only imagined in dreams. Every hinge, every bolt, every glinting crest told the story of a kingdom that had the power to endure and the pride to flaunt it.