17. CHAPTER 17
Aveline
Icouldn’t be separated from Enora. I wouldn’t. There had to be some excuse for me to use. One that would allow her to accompany us to Stormgaard.
I was leaving the castle in Gothryn, and Sorin and I would be alone. With his sister, of course.
On the one hand, I was terrified to be alone with him in a strange place, not a single person I knew by my side. On the other hand, the voice inside my head was screaming at me that this was my chance.
The perfect opportunity to execute my task and be done with it.
But one issue remained…I had yet to set eyes on the relic Queen Dyata had sent me to procure. Would she be terribly disappointed if I returned without it, but with the prince still dead?
She would have to be.
I racked my mind, flipping through the catalog in my brain to help me decide which poison to choose.
It would have to be something untraceable.
Something that even upon examination they could not determine the cause of death.
There would only be two people to point the finger at in Stormgaard…
and Voirel certainly wasn’t going to murder her own brother.
She had no motive to want the prince dead.
As soon as it was done, I would need to escape. I wouldn’t be able to linger in Stormgaard.
I would need to set sail for Myros immediately and ensure Enora was able to follow safely. I swallowed thickly, mouth drier than the deserts of Faedwyn, as I finished packing the lone satchel I had taken with me to Gothryn.
I slung it over my shoulder reluctantly.
Quinnick was cuddled up on the cot, his ears flattened against his head in sleep.
He would have to stay behind, too. Enora had promised to take care of him, but the thought still made me uneasy.
I gave him a soft scratch behind his ear, and he grumbled, stretching and licking his lips before curling back into a cloud-like ball once more.
With trepidation, I reached for the doorknob of my small room. I opened it and Enora came into view. Her mouth was open, fist raised to knock.
The sun had crested the horizon through the small, narrow window above the cot. First light had only allowed for a few hours of sleep, which meant I was groggy.
Moody.
“I wanted to wish you farewell and take Quinnick with me to the library,” Enora said.
At the sound of Enora’s voice, Quinnick stretched, hopping off the bed to join her. He was still sleepy, too.
Enora gripped my shoulders and pulled me against her. She wordlessly slipped something into my satchel over my shoulder, her lips against my ear. I did not dare ask about it as heavy footsteps approached.
“Ready?” the voice asked, becoming all too familiar.
I nodded once in resignation, my smile tight. “Where is Voirel?”
“Already en route with Emrys. We will meet her there.” Wherever ‘there’ was.
I faced Enora with a stiff smile and bid her farewell, hoping it would be mere days before I saw her once more.
She had promised to keep an ear to the ground to listen for rumors.
Noor, the historian, was not only ancient…
but she was also the castle gossip. She knew all the comings and goings of everyone at court.
I turned toward Sorin. His eyes were heavy this morning, dark circles visible beneath his gaze. His wings were pulled taut at his back, the darkest ink with just the hint of a red hue among the outer membrane. They reached into a formidable claw at both the top and the bottom.
They flitted; his irritation visible. “We’d best be on our way. I was hoping to arrive before King Mavros and Queen Odessa come searching for us,” he said, tone clipped.
I glared at him. “They don’t know we are going?”
He shook his head once. “My brothers will inform them upon our arrival.”
I cast one last glance at Enora over my shoulder before following Sorin toward the curved staircase that would lead us down toward the main hall. When we reached the top of the staircase, I turned left to descend, my hand on the hewn stone.
Sorin kept walking.
“Aren’t we leaving?” I asked at his back, gesturing to the stairs before me.
He stopped, turning to me with brows raised. “We are, indeed.”
I cast my eyes down the staircase toward the main entrance, a question clear in my gaze.
He shook his head. “This way.”
I adjusted the strap of the satchel on my back. After another moment of hesitation, I followed. Was there another exit in the palace that I didn’t know about?
When we made our way toward his chambers and through the grand double doors, I was completely and utterly perplexed.
“Where are we going?” I asked at his back.
He approached the double doors that led to the balcony and opened them, beckoning me outside onto the veranda. I followed; my brows knitted together as I watched him skeptically. He pulled the doors shut behind us.
“What are you doing?” I asked, scanning the balcony. Was there a hidden staircase here I didn’t know about?
“We are leaving for Stormgaard,” he replied simply.
“And how do you plan to do that?” I asked, gesturing to the balcony that, while quite large, clearly led nowhere.
Sorin tsked as if the answer should have been obvious, pointing toward the wings on his back.
My expression fell, stomach dropping. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack, I fear.”
I shook my head back and forth, backing toward the railing until the cold metal was pressing against my spine.
“No. No.” There was finality in my voice that didn’t appear to register with Sorin.
“I’m afraid the only answer is yes. You don’t have much of a choice,” he pointed out.
I gulped back a fresh wave of fear. “There has to be another way. Where is Stormgaard? We can go on horseback—I am quite good on a horse.”
Sorin shook his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. “It is across the sea, south of the Whispering Tides.”
My eyes narrowed, mouth popping open. “We can take a ship, then.”
Sorin laughed this time, the dark circles under his eyes lessening with the way his smile lit his expression. He appeared younger when he laughed, the rising sun casting a warm orange glow against his skin.
“Taking a boat out of Southgate would take days. We don’t have days. I fly quite quickly, I assure you.”
“That is exactly what I am worried about,” I replied drily.
He inclined his head in my direction. “Scared of heights, Little Dove?”
My mouth dropped open once more to protest. One quick gaze over the balcony at my back reminded me we were many stories up.
I swallowed hard, my ears heating as panic rose in my throat.
I turned toward him with another protest on my lips, but nothing came.
I wasn’t merely frightened; I was terrified.
My face was hot and my ears were ringing.
We were going to fly over the Saltale Sea?
I was going to be sick.
I turned toward the railing, my raven hair whipping back from my shoulders as a gust of wind blew across my face. Sorin stepped up to the railing beside me, his gaze softening.
“You have nothing to fear. I have never, ever, dropped anyone into the open ocean.”
My sideways glare pinned him in place before he dissolved into laughter again. “Not that I have carried a great many women across the sea in the first place. But I can assure you, it is perfectly safe.”
“You plan to carry me?” I shook my head. “I don’t even have to go. Honestly, I will remain in the castle. I won’t go into town. I will avoid the citizens of Gothryn. I promise you. I will remain isolated.”
Sorin’s lips pulled up into a smirk. “Where I go, you go. At least for the time being. Now hold still and let me—” He reached for me and I stepped back out of his reach.
“What do you plan to do?” I asked, my voice jumping up an octave.
His expression turned deadpan. “Carry you. As I said.”
“But…but—”
He sighed heavily. “I can certainly take my full dragon form if that would make you more comfortable. That way you can ride on the ridge of my back, between my wings. In my human form, it would be too cumbersome to do so. Too narrow. I wouldn’t be able to reach my full wingspan—”
“Fine!” I cut him off, hand outstretched as if I could physically stop him from speaking. “Fine. You can carry me. Happy?”
“Quite,” he replied, trying—and failing—to conceal his grin.
When he reached out for me this time, I let him, scooping me into his arms. When he gripped beneath my knees to hoist me into the air, the lining of my dress rode up. His arm brushed against the exposed skin of my calf.
A gasp escaped my parted lips at the feeling of his skin against mine. It sent a shock through me, straight down to my toes. I had expected his touch to feel like burning. A scorching flame. But what I felt was a cool caress. The slight pebbling of mist against skin as the fog encroached.
We locked eyes.
A muscle flexed in his stubbled jaw, his deep, sun-kissed gaze stirring with uncertainty.
Had he felt that, too?
A shiver ran through me at the cool, dewy sensation. Sorin quickly pulled my skirts firmly back into place, his touch no longer chilling my skin. Without another word he stepped up to the railing, spreading his wings wide behind him.
My gaze was still locked on his as he leaped into the air, his dark wings unfolding to their full and terrifying length. They beat rhythmically at his back as we ascended into the morning sky, the horizon pink beneath the warm sun.
Backlit this way, the sun painting his skin in hues of orange and pink, the golden flecks in his eyes sparkling—he was utterly and entirely breathtaking.
For a moment I was brave enough to glance away, to see how high we had soared into the air and what Gothryn might look like from high above. Before I could so much as turn my face an inch, Sorin read my intentions. His husky voice cut through the wind that stirred my hair and whistled in my ears.
“Eyes on me, Little Dove.”
“Why do you call me that?” I asked, voice barely audible beneath his beating wings.
Whether he didn’t hear me or didn’t feel like answering, I wasn’t sure.