Chapter 21
The forest is unnervingly quiet, except for the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath my feet. Kaelzar walks ahead, his broad frame moving through the shadows with an eerie ease.
The waning moon, already paling toward red, trickles through the canopy, dappling him in fractured silver. But the light does little to soften him.
Wrapped tight in the blanket, I trudge after him in the oversized boots he made me wear, his own, so I don’t end up with splinters, cuts, or a dramatic collapse that would end with him hauling me home. A situation he’s clearly eager to avoid.
Another pang of guilt settles as I watch him walk barefoot, though he hides any discomfort behind that infuriating calm of his. He didn’t have to give me his boots, but he did, and then practically ordered me to wear them.
He did offer to go back to the cabin so I could change properly, but that would’ve meant hours in the wrong direction. So I declined.
The trees seem taller now, their branches stretching like skeletal fingers.
I want to start a conversation to relieve tension between us, but the words won’t come out. They claw at my throat, rising only to wither before they reach my tongue.
Every time I try to speak, fragments from the first Challenge return to me, when our minds were forced together. I hadn’t understood most of them then, but I had felt them. Felt him. The agony of his loss and pain made me want to scream.
My gaze drifts to his back. In the dim light, I can’t tell if he’s still leaving any trace of blood. But the way he moves, steadier now, no longer hunched, tells me the chains have stopped grinding into him. He must have healed by now.
That thought lingers, turning over in my mind until it settles into a sharp revelation.
I finally understand why Kaelzar knew exactly how to treat the wounds on my hands.
He’s tended the same ones before—his own.
And while I have Blood magic to mend mine until not even a scar remains, he must have had no one willing to heal his.
The realization twists inside me. Without meaning to, I threw his past back at him, used his pain like a weapon. Am I really any better than Calista?
We walk for hours, my thoughts circling the same guilt and regret, searching for some way to make it right. The night stretches on endlessly. My feet scream in protest when Kaelzar abruptly stops in front of me.
I blink and see what caught his attention: a hunting lodge, weathered but sturdy, its walls streaked with moss.
Two horses stand tied to a post nearby, their breaths steaming faintly in the cool night air.
Without a word, he strides toward the lodge.
I hesitate, watching as he reaches into a small pouch and withdraws a handful of coins. He places them on a barrel near the entrance before untying one of the horses.
“We’ll take this one,” Kaelzar says quietly, his voice as flat as ever.
“One horse?” I blurt out in a whisper, exhaustion sharpening my tone. “What about the other one?”
He turns, his shadowed face unreadable. “What about it?”
“Why not take both?” I frown. The answer should be obvious. Two people. Two horses. It makes sense. “So we don’t have to crowd this one.”
He tilts his head. Something shifts in his posture, something that tells me he’s amused, but not in a kind way.
“You want to leave whoever’s inside with no means of transportation? Just strand them here in the middle of the forest?” He lets out a sound, half a chuckle, half a disappointed huff. A sound that makes me feel small. “What’s next? Are you planning to demand their friendship after that too?”
Heat rises to my cheeks, and I hug the cover closer. “Fine,” I mutter, looking away.
Kaelzar turns back to the horse, his movements precise as he secures its bridle. Through the low cut of his vest, I notice then that his chains lie flat against his skin.
He glances at me over his shoulder, his tone brusque. “Get on.”
I hesitate, my hands tightening around the edges of the cover wrapped around me. I glance at the horse, then at the heavy folds of fabric encasing me.
I can’t climb up like this, not with the cover in the way. Slowly, I loosen my grip and let it fall, the cool night air brushing over my exposed skin.
My breath catches as I look down at myself. The thin band wrapped tightly across my chest, meant for sleep rather than modesty, barely seems sufficient, and the soft undergarments hugging my hips offer no real protection against the chill.
A flush rises to my cheeks, my arms instinctively crossing in front of me as a futile shield.
Kaelzar turns toward me then, his hooded gaze flickering briefly over me before settling on the horse. His hands lift in a silent offer.
My body is tired, but not incapable so I could climb up myself. Logic tells me I should. That I should keep my distance, maintain whatever fragile boundary remains between us. And yet, I hesitate. I can’t explain the need, the strange pull that makes me accept his help.
My heart pounds as I step closer, allowing his hands to settle firmly at my waist. His hands tighten, firm but careful, and in one smooth motion, he lifts me.
I know it’s coming. I brace for it. But it still knocks the breath from me. His grip is steady, his strength effortless, as if I weigh nothing.
The contact sends a jolt through me, heat blooming where his fingers grip me. It lasts only a second, the sensation slipping away as quickly as it came. Then I’m in the saddle, and the moment is gone, leaving me unbalanced in more ways than one.
Kaelzar steps back and retrieves the discarded cover. Without a word, he hands it to me. I take it, my fingers brushing his as I wrap it tightly around myself.
“Thank you,” I murmur, as I take off the boots and offer them back to him now that I don’t need them.
He nods, takes them and puts them on without a word. His gaze remains fixed on the path ahead as he takes the reins and begins leading the horse forward.
We travel in silence for what feels like hours again, the rhythm of the horse’s steady steps lulling the forest around us into an uneasy quiet. I keep my eyes ahead, my thoughts circling like restless birds.
The warmth of the cover shields me from the chill, but the ache in my feet lingers.
Eventually, I clear my throat, breaking the silence. “Wouldn’t it be faster if you got on the horse too?”
Kaelzar doesn’t turn his head. “It would.”
There’s a pause, then a faint edge of amusement slips into his tone. “But judging by your earlier outrage, I figured you’d rather walk another five days than share a saddle with me.”
I stiffen. Outrage? That’s not what that was. Was it?
“That’s not—” I exhale sharply. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He finally glances back at me and there’s a glint of challenge. A knowing look. He’s waiting to see if I’ll dig myself in deeper.
I press my lips together and look away as heat rushes to my cheeks.
“It’s just… you’re so large, and—” I hesitate, my gaze dropping to the sturdy frame of the horse beneath me. “I just thought… poor horse, carrying two people.”
A moment of silence, then Kaelzar chuckles softly, the sound low and rich. “This horse could carry three of me and barely notice. But it’s endearing how worried you are about him.”
My flush deepens, and I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure whether to feel annoyed or embarrassed. Before I can respond, he reaches up, grasps the saddle horn with one hand, and swings himself onto the horse behind me with effortless grace.
I tense. Even before he fully settles, I feel him— the shift of weight, the press of his presence against my back. The instant his body aligns with mine, a fire surges through my veins.
His warmth is startling, seeping through the cover, through my skin, through every last layer of distance I’ve tried to hold onto.
And then there’s his scent. Dark storm and warm leather. It fills my lungs, wrapping around me as surely as his arms do when he reaches for the reins.
I try to focus on the rhythmic sway of the horse, but the steady rise and fall of his breath against my head makes it impossible.
I swallow hard and clutch the cover tighter as a strange mix of emotions coils in my chest. It’s not just his warmth, though that alone is a comfort, but it’s the feeling of safety, of being shielded from the world by something immovable.
I let myself relax, even if only slightly.
Kaelzar’s voice breaks the quiet, low and almost teasing. “Comfortable?”
I tense. “It’s fine,” I say quickly.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, clearly amused. “Good.”
The horse continues its steady pace through the forest, the sound of hooves soft against the earth.
I try to focus on the trees around us, the faint rustling of leaves, or the cool night air. But all I can feel is the solid warmth of him, the quiet strength in the way his arms frame me.
I shift in the saddle, my gaze dropping to my hands. I study one of my palms, tracing the faint outlines of my darkened fingertips with my eyes, the tips seem even blacker now from the Decay magic I drew in earlier.
The rhythmic sway of the horse beneath me does little to soothe the heavy thoughts pressing in on me. My magic, relentless and simmering, stirs at my unease, as though it has a will of its own. I try to shake the weight of it, but it clings to me.
Kaelzar hasn’t spoken in some time and the silence only makes the words I should say scream louder in my head. Would my apology even matter? Would he care?
I glance back at him, then away. It’s now or never. “I wanted to apologize.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Finally, his voice comes. “For what?”
I hesitate, my gaze dropping to my fingers again. “For how I acted earlier. For what I said.” My throat tightens, but I force myself to continue. “I was angry, but it wasn’t fair to threaten you like that. I didn’t mean to—” I falter before exhaling the last words. “To hurt you.”
The reins shift slightly in his hands, a faint movement that draws my attention. For a long moment, I think he won’t answer at all.