8. Barrett
BARRETT
“ D id that bracelet belong to your sister?” Lucia’s words dragged me from my thoughts of the female who watched Micah and me train the day before.
I forced myself to remain focused on the stretch of hall before us as we walked through the barracks. “It did.” Lucia didn’t speak again for a moment, and I arched a brow at her. “Is that the only question you’ll be bombarding me with today?”
A smug smile tugged at her lips. “I knew you weren’t lying when we first met. It wouldn’t make sense for a murderer to cling so tightly to an object owned by his victim.”
I let out a sigh at her persistence and muttered, “You never know when to quit.”
“Correction, I know when not to give up,” she said, her head held high, as if she had claimed some sort of victory.
I rolled my eyes. Clearly that was the difference between us, because I had given up long ago. No matter how much I had tried to fight, it hadn’t mattered in the end, so why bother ?
“Ungrateful child!” I froze at the sound of Father’s angry voice followed by the shattering of glass as I passed the closed door to his study.
My blood chilled, and I stepped closer to listen.
“Have you heard from Jude and his father?” I stilled at the sound of Atticus’ voice. Of course, the bastard knew of Calliope’s betrothal. “Do they realize she’s run off yet?”
Air rushed from my lungs.
“I haven’t heard anything,” Father growled. “But if she doesn’t show up to the binding ceremony in the next half hour…”
Half hour? Her binding wasn’t supposed to take place for another week. When had he moved it up?
“I took care of her useless attendant, so you won’t have to worry about her,” Atticus said. “Not worth anything if she couldn’t keep track of a single girl.”
“I should’ve seen her there myself,” Father grumbled, and there was a brief pause.
I imagined he was downing another glass of Ambrosia liquor.
“We’ll find her. I have my men turning over the entire village searching for her now.
She has to turn up somewhere. Selfish girl.
I should have known she would pull something like this. ”
“It’s shameful,” Atticus said with disgust. “She should be grateful to be given such an opportunity. Bonded to the future Kyrios of House Leukos, she would have brought her family hon...”
I turned, my feet moving on their own as I ran up the stairs, unable to listen further. It couldn’t be true. Servants stumbled out of the way as I ran down the hall, muttering to themselves, but I didn’t pay them any mind.
“Lord Barrett, have you seen Trista? She was supposed to return an hour ago,” one of the servants asked as I brushed past her, and my heart shuddered. Trista. Calliope’s attendant. I didn’t waste time answering her, my boots pounding into the carpet as I neared her room.
This couldn’t be happening. She wouldn’t run. She couldn’t. He would kill her.
I shoved Calliope’s bedroom door open and froze at the sight of the empty, dark room. Wind whistled through her open window, the outside night sky cast in pitch blackness without the light of the new moon.
No. Please, Gods.
I hurried to her bed, ripping back the blankets, praying to find her sleeping, that I had imagined the entire conversation. Empty. I turned and ran for the closet to find it also empty.
“Godsdammit, no,” I muttered, stumbling back, my hands shaking. Where could she have gone? There were no other immortal settlements she could have taken shelter in. What if she left the safety of the village to get away from him? What if a darkling found her?
The sound of wind rustling paper caught my attention, and I turned to find a folded piece of parchment sitting atop her nightstand. Dread constricted my chest as I stepped toward the parchment, anchored against the breeze by a delicate gold bracelet .
The room spun as I took them both in my hand. The carved message in Elythian burned my skin where I held the gift I’d given her only a week earlier. I opened the note.
‘I love you most.’
I couldn’t breathe, my hands trembling as I read her message over and over again. My grip on the bracelet tightened, and I ran for the door, the note falling from my hand.
There was no telling what Father would do to her if he found her. I couldn’t let him. I had to find her first, get her to safety.
Fuck, even if I found her, what the hell was I going to do?
We couldn’t return home. Where would she even go?
The laws of the aristocracy placed unbound females under the care of the heads of their households.
Mother wouldn’t defend Calliope against Father’s rage—she never did, and he would be furious, embarrassed that she stood Jude up at their binding ceremony.
They could burn for all I cared. There would be no binding ceremony.
I had spent the past week brainstorming how to get her out of it, and while I hadn’t come up with a solution…
There wasn’t time to dwell on the thought as I snuck past Father’s study and slipped out the front door onto the dark street. None of it mattered if I couldn’t find her—if he got to her first.
People passed by as I ran down the streets, every alley, giving me odd looks as I scanned every face in search of hers.
“Where are you, Cali?” I muttered as I turned down a narrow path to avoid a group of males stalking through the crowds. I recognized some of them from Father’s personal guard. Had Atticus brought some of his own hired thugs?
I continued farther down the alley onto another conjoined street, my feet barely meeting the ground as I ran, searching.
Where would she go? Where would she hide?
Was she with this person she spoke of? Was it a male or female?
Fuck, I hated that I hadn’t gotten that information out of her when I had the chance.
Half an hour later, I had searched half the town and still hadn’t found her. My chest heaved as I paused, struggling to think past the terror. She was smart. She would hide somewhere Father wouldn’t know to look. Somewhere familiar. Safe.
The creekside.
My heart raced as I turned, lifting my gaze to the mountains lining the valley. Would she really brave leaving the safety of the city at night? Of course, she would. Father wouldn’t give up until he found her, we both knew it, and Father would never think of looking near the ruins of Moonhaven.
I glanced back before hurrying out of the alley and through the city toward the main gates, wishing I had my sword.
There was no time to return home to grab it.
I pressed my back to the wall at the mouth of the street, searching for signs of any guards.
The gates were closed for the night, but the door beside them was unmanned, the guards likely making their rounds along the wall in the dark hours.
They weren’t meant to keep us contained, but to keep darklings out.
Immortals knew not to leave the safety of the walls.
Those foolish enough to leave took their fate into their own hands .
The forest was quiet as I hurried for the ruins of Moonhaven, praying I was right—that Calliope had taken refuge at our old play spot.
I couldn’t risk calling out for her. Darklings could be nearby, and I didn’t have a weapon to defend myself, my magic still too unpredictable to rely on as anything more than a last resort in my early training.
The trees thinned, and relief flooded my chest as I found Calliope sitting at the edge of the creek, her back turned to me.
She wasn’t alone, sitting next to a figure cloaked in black, their hood up.
The figure glanced over their shoulder, revealing tanned skin and shoulder-length copper hair.
The moment she caught sight of me, she shot to her feet, her fangs bared as she ripped her dagger from her sheath.
“Vesa, stop!” Calliope shouted as she jumped to her feet to step between us. “It’s Barrett.”
“Thank the Fates,” I panted as I rested my hand against the tree, struggling to catch my breath.
“What are you doing here?” Calliope asked as she ran to me.
“Father knows. He has his men searching for you all over town.” I looked her over. “Are you all right? What the hell happened? I overheard Atticus and Father say something about your binding ceremony happening tonight. I thought it was a week from now.”
“The bastard moved the date up,” the female said as she sheathed her dagger and tugged her hood down to scan our surroundings.
By the look of the black leather armor, and the black and silver dagger, she was a warrior of The Order.
My eyes widened as I took in the faint points of her ears, the soft purple of her eyes. She was half fae.
“I couldn’t do it.” Calliope’s voice cracked, her hands trembling in mine, and I looked back down at her.
I pulled her into a hug. “I won’t let them do that to you. You won’t end up like Jude’s previous bonded. I don’t care what I have to do.”
I lifted my gaze to the female and released Calliope. “Is this…”
Calliope fidgeted with her skirt and stepped back a few paces. “This is Vesa, the one I told you of.”
“I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” Vesa said as she stopped at Calliope’s side. “She’s told me wonderful things about you.”
“I wish I could say the same of you,” I said, my heart twisting at the fact I was only now meeting her, that we couldn’t feel joy in something that should be nothing short of celebrated. I turned to Calliope. “We have to find somewhere to hide. It’s not safe to go back tonight.”
“When things calm down, I plan to seek an audience with Lord Damien,” Vesa said. “He is an honorable male; he wouldn’t turn a blind eye to this.”
“What do you plan to do until then?” I asked. “You can’t just hide out here. It’s only a matter of time before you run into a darkling.”
“We—” An arrow slammed into Vesa’s shoulder, and she cried out as she stumbled back, clutching the shaft.
“Vesa!” Calliope cried, catching her before she hit her knees .