Chapter 14 Skylar
In the morning, she’s ready. She’s been listening for signs of movement since first light, pin in hand, going through every self-defense move that Torin has taught her. So when the bedroom door opens, she is out, under Axel’s arm before he has time to realize what’s happening.
He swears, reaching to grab her, but she’s quick.
She moves her knee up to his groin, and he only just gets out of the way in time.
She uses that to her advantage, shoving her body weight against him so that he smashes back against the wall.
The stupid dress they gave her to wear catches slightly and she hisses under her breath.
There’s an animal growl behind her. She spins to see the Shifter snarling at her and takes a brief moment to assess.
Shifting is one of the more envied powers, although even the grade twos can only shift into one thing.
Imagine that—you get stuck with a power where you can only turn into an ant or something.
But now there are claws, taking the place of her nails, and fur spreading up her arms, her eyes bright yellow. Not an ant, then.
Skylar sprints toward the Shifter, dodging at the last moment, so that the claws scratch harmlessly against the stone wall.
She slices the fragment of blade down one of the Shifter’s arms, then goes for her face, cutting below her eye.
Skylar ducks as the Shifter swipes at her.
Her face is elongating now, in a way that looks painful, bone breaking and mending itself.
Skylar bends, stabs her pin into the Shifter’s calf with all the force she can manage—just as a hand grabs her elbow, yanking her up so hard she can’t help the scream.
Too slow. She was too fucking slow—Torin would be beating the shit out of her right now.
Axel slams her back against the wall, the force of it reverberating through her skull. He traps her wrist, then pries her fingers open so that her pin, covered in the Shifter’s blood, falls to the floor.
He very much looks like he might hit her in the face, and she lifts her chin, daring him.
Then he lets out a breath that sounds painful, bends to pick up her pin.
The Shifter has transformed all the way now into some kind of massive cat—like a cross between a lion and a tiger.
Definitely at least a grade three. Her teeth are bared at Skylar, the wound on her front leg bleeding.
It looks like she can’t put any weight on it—and that makes Skylar feel ever so slightly better.
At least she’s not completely useless, even if she did underestimate Axel.
Most Blooded can’t fight—they rely on their powers alone. Well. She knows for next time.
The cat growls at Skylar, who curls her lip right back. What—is she expecting an apology?
“What is this?” Axel asks, twirling the pin between his fingers.
“A hairpin,” Skylar says. He gives her a disbelieving look.
She forces a shrug. “It was my mother’s.
” She wonders if he’ll comment on the symbols, etched into the silver—most people do, asking what they mean.
As far as she knows, they don’t mean anything, are simply a pattern.
Her mum always used to tell her the pin would bring her home—only, since that night, she’s never had a home, has she?
She twists the ring on her finger. Except Cam. Cam was her home. He is her home. She just needs to find him.
Axel slips the pin into the pocket of his tunic. “You can have it back when you prove you’re not such a liability.”
“It was my mother’s,” she repeats stupidly.
“You’ve said. And I don’t care.”
She feels her jaw clench. The pin is the only piece of her mother she has left, the only thing that makes her feel connected to her. But if she tells him that, he’ll only have more reason to keep it from her.
“Well,” he says, “now that’s out of the way, shall we?” He gestures down the corridor, and she folds her arms.
“Yeah, I’m not coming.”
He laughs. “It’s cute you think you have a choice.”
“Why should I bind myself to the witch?” Because she doesn’t know much, but she can guess. Blood Binding—clue’s in the name—and, Covenant or not, she’s not going through with it.
Axel actually sighs at her. “Because otherwise she might kill you before the six weeks are up. It’s in your favor, trust me.”
“Sure. I mean, you seem like a trustworthy guy.”
“You don’t seem to understand,” he says impatiently. “That, or you’re being deliberately obstinate. You duel or you die.”
“So you’ve said. I take it the king will order one of you to kill me, if I don’t duel? Will that be you or…?”
The big cat blinks yellow eyes up at her. And Skylar knows—she’s missed something here.
“I won’t kill you.” The much as I’d like to is implied. “The magic of the Covenant means that, should you refuse to fight, you forfeit your life.” The way he’s looking at her suggests she should have already known this.
And slowly, she realizes what he’s saying.
Panic spirals. If she only has weeks left to live, wouldn’t she rather be somewhere else?
She could still try to escape. Already, that pressure is building, the reckless side of her she has to keep in check crackling under her skin.
Axel is watching her, like he can sense this. She takes a calming breath.
She has nowhere to go. Even if she gets out of here, it’s not like she would want to find Aldric again, is it? The only person she’d want to spend her last days with is Cam. And Cam is gone. Taken to some army camp, Arach only knows where.
Although, it’s not only Arach, is it?
“If I do this,” she says slowly, thinking, “then I want a favor.”
“You want a favor?” He says it like he doesn’t understand the word. The Shifter blinks again, bleeding leg still held off the floor.
“Yeah. You want me to fight to the death for a kingdom I don’t give two shits about, I’m pretty sure I’m owed a favor.” He doesn’t say anything, so she plows on. “I want to know where the conscripts are taken.” Is it her, or does the Shifter go very still at this?
“Taken?”
“Yes, taken,” she snaps. “By your people. For the army.” Again nothing. “So…” She wets her lips, now doubting herself. “If you find that out for me, I’ll stay. I’ll even try to win.”
He gives her a calculating look. “You’ll try to win if you value your own life.”
“Who says I value it?” she asks quietly.
You don’t want to die, Lar.
He doesn’t know that, does he?
He looks at her for another long second, then shakes his head. “Enough of this. I’m not in charge of conscription, I can’t help you.” She wonders briefly what he is in charge of.
“But even if you could, you wouldn’t?” she asks bitterly.
“Something like that. Now, are you walking, or do I have to drag you to the ceremony?”
She holds her head high as she stalks past him. She shouldn’t have said anything. She’s given too much away, hasn’t she? And what if he tells the king that she’s looking for someone? He’d drag Cam from the camps and kill him in front of her, just to prove a point.
She walks through the door at the end of the corridor, the Shifter limping behind. She wonders what they’d do if she tried to fight again. Wonders if the Shifter has orders to maim but not kill her. It doesn’t matter, though. Because she’s made her choice.
If she has six weeks left to live, then there’s only one thing she wants to be doing. Which means the castle is the place for her—because, even if Axel is telling the truth and he doesn’t know anything about conscription, someone here does.
I’ll find you before my time is up, I promise, she tells Cam silently. So don’t give up before then, okay?
And she hears the glimmer of his voice, stronger this time, almost like it’s a real Projection, like he’s really heard her.
I’ll never give up on you, Lar.
Axel leads her down to the grounds. She knows when they reach the right place because of the crowd gathered.
They’re on the cliff edge, the ocean stretching out beneath them.
The castle looms at her back, and dry grass crunches underfoot.
She tastes salt on the air, hears the crashing of waves.
She expected the ceremony to take place in the same hall she was dragged into last night—but realizes why it’s not pretty quickly.
Because of the dragons. All three of them, right there in front of her. She stumbles at the sight of them, their shadows looming over the crowd. At her side, Axel grips her arm—his favorite thing to do, apparently—and urges her forward. She glares at him. He ignores her.
Bruma, the king’s dragon, with scales an icy blue, lets out a low growl as she nears, and she feels the air temperature drop several degrees. Nerves prickle her neck as she remembers the man she saw him kill.
He won’t kill you, Lar.
Well, let’s hope Cam is right about that.
Next to Bruma, sunlight bounces off a smaller dragon, scales a bright white.
Ziva, she presumes—a Solar Celestial, the power of light at her command.
The queen’s dragon. It was a topic of gossip around the country to learn that the queen, the only person of nonroyal blood to ever have been allowed to attempt the island, came back with a Celestial dragon. Presumably because of her mate bond.
And there, bigger than both of them, is Mjolnir.
He looks at her, blinking his huge violet eyes.
She finds her breath catching as she wonders if he’ll speak to her again, if he’ll give her some clue as to why he intervened yesterday.
Because he somehow knew that she was the heir—before everyone else did?
If that was the case, why only him—why not the other two?
But he doesn’t speak, and she turns her attention away from the dragons and toward the raised stone platform.
The two royal families stand there, the witch princess already in place, her mother at her back.
Skylar feels her insides tighten at the sight of the witch queen, the person responsible for bringing her here.