Chaos and Trust
GAbrIEL
“We’re going to stop and find shelter soon.” My voice is low, but it booms through the quiet night, seeming far too loud.
My arm is banded around Wren’s waist. She’s sitting in front of me, her back a rigid board despite the hours we’ve been riding.
The sound of the horse’s hooves on the Broken Road, the trade route connecting Rosebridge to Moorn, is all I can hear.
We’re surrounded by nothing but trees, so Wren could speak if she wanted to . . .
But judging by the way she’s been silent since we left the capital, she won’t.
My fingers tighten around the reins. Thank the gods, Maia came when I sent for her.
Her brother, Theon, is my best friend, and they live in the Crystal District near the Rose Palace.
The proximity allows their father, Samir Villeneuve, to be at the king’s beck and call.
He is the Hand of the King, and he works closely with my father.
As such, Theon, Maia, and I grew up together.
I wasn’t lying when I told Wren I thought the twins would be safer with Maia. The king is as intelligent as he is wicked, but he won’t think to look for the twins so close to home.
Wren’s sisters were weeping when they left, an understandable reaction.
My heart ached at the knowledge that I was forcing the siblings apart after they’d just reunited, but it had to be done.
There was no way all four of us could get away from Rosebridge without being caught, especially at the speed we need to move at to avoid the king.
Still, the girls’ tears ripped something open inside me, a wound I hadn’t known existed.
Their reaction was nothing compared to Wren’s, though. Something in the gods-blessed seemed to break when the twins left, and her anguish was a dagger, stabbing me repeatedly in the heart. Every time she sobbed, I broke a little further.
Wren had struggled when I carried her to Chaos, the black gelding Maia brought for me.
I can’t ride, she had whispered despondently as I lifted her onto the horse. This won’t work.
But her complaints had dried up when I swung into the saddle behind her. She hadn’t spoken when I draped a heavy black cloak over her shoulders to ward off the night’s chill, and even when I’d picked up Chaos’s reins and murmured to him, she’d remained silent.
A stupor overtook Wren when we left Rosebridge behind. Away from her sisters, and with any luck, the king. Mist had run alongside us for a while, but she disappeared into the forest a few hours ago, returning from her hunt not long ago.
The suns will rise soon, and Wren still hasn’t said anything. My throat is dry and scratchy, and hers must be, too. It’s the thought of her thirst, not mine, that has me reaching into the saddlebags behind me.
My arm twinges. The low, pulsing pain that has been present since we left the tunnels has been an annoyance, but I’ve been shoving thoughts of it aside. I’ve had plenty of injuries in my life, and this is little more than a scrape.
Besides, I’m far more worried about the gods-blessed—which is perplexing, to say the least. It feels almost natural to think about Wren’s needs alongside of my own. It’s an odd feeling, after being on my own for so long.
Unhooking the water canteen that Maia thoughtfully included in our supplies, I unscrew the cap with my teeth. I’m thirsty, but I hold the vessel in front of me, offering it to Wren first. She needs it more.
She shakes her head, but I won’t give up that easily.
“You need to drink, little bird.”
A heavy beat of silence passes, and for a moment, I think she’s going to refuse again. Then, a full body sigh rolls through her, and she takes the canteen. Her fingertips brush mine, and a wave of heat crashes through my veins.
What was that?
Wren drinks slowly before wordlessly returning the container. I take a swig and replace the lid, sliding it back into the saddlebag.
We keep riding.
Chaos, aptly named for both his temperament (irascible on the best of days) and his tendency to cause mischief among the Hand’s other horses, belongs to Theon. Maia took a risk in bringing me her brother’s horse since the gelding doesn’t like most people, but I’m glad she chose him.
Not only is Chaos one of the fastest horses in the Kingdom of Myreth, but I’m very familiar with him. Theon acquired the steed a decade ago, and he spent countless hours working with him. Whenever I was in the capital between hunts, I joined my friend.
The comfort of riding a familiar horse cannot be understated, especially when I’m dealing with Wren and this mysterious pull between us.
Adding an unfamiliar mount to the mix would’ve made things even trickier.
That draw inside me seems pleased by Wren’s nearness, pulsing steadily next to my bond with Mist even though the gods-blessed remains taciturn.
At first, her behavior made sense. She was upset about leaving her sisters, as anyone would be. But when time trickled on without a sign of her fire, I started getting worried. Now, that worry has grown teeth. It’s gnawing at my insides, devouring me from the inside out.
Esyn fucking help me, but I never thought I’d miss the sound of another person’s voice, especially not one from a person I’d been hunting. But here we are. I want Wren to speak and tell me how she’s feeling. For the gods’ sakes, I’d even take her cursing at me over the unnerving silence.
I’m used to her fighting me every step of the way and pushing back, not being like this. Rigid. Silent. Barely there.
I tighten my hold around her middle, and warmth floods my chest. I glance to my right, where Mist silently bounds out of the forest, shining silver eyes meeting mine.
“We’ll be stopping to rest soon,” I say, the words as much for Wren as they are for my familiar.
My bond with Mist thrums, and my chest loosens. It’s easier to breathe with my panther by my side. Now, there are two of us looking out for the king’s soldiers and other riders. Two sets of eyes, alert and searching for trouble.
I’ve already directed Chaos into the nearby forest three times tonight as other late-night riders passed us. The Broken Road is busy, and it’ll become congested once the suns rise.
We need to be gone by then.
I squeeze my thighs around Chaos’s flank, urging him to move faster. The sooner we get to our destination, a series of nearby caves, the better.
Two years ago, I hunted a criminal who’d escaped from the Night’s Edge, a prison near Rosebridge. The felon had found refuge in the caves, although he didn’t get far before I caught him and brought him back.
If we can reach them in time, the caves should provide adequate shelter for the day.
And if we don’t . . .
Reaching down, I tap my sword, its presence reassuring. I will fight for us if needed. I spoke the truth, earlier—I will not let the gods-blessed go without a fight.
No one, not even Wren, can stop me from staying by her side.
Fall back and keep an eye on the road, I direct Mist. Make sure we aren’t being followed.
She inclines her head, fading back into the woods.
We keep riding, the suns beginning their daily march across the horizon.
Pushing away the darkness, they cast yellowed rays over the sky.
Despite the lingering chill, I can tell that it’ll be a sunny, warm day.
Good for travel, but unfortunate for us, since it’ll be easier for our pursuers to chase us.
I lean forward in my saddle, urging Chaos to move faster. Sweeping my eyes across the horizon, I search for the break in the trees that will lead to the caves.
It should be—
An anxious thrum fills my chest. A warning from my trusted partner. I look over my shoulder, my breath catching in my throat. Sure enough, Mist is right.
We’re being followed.
Dust billows behind us as three riders race down the trade road. My gut churns, a bitter warning that I cannot ignore. These aren’t travelers—they’re coming for us. I know it like I know my own name.
Fuck.
My heart slams against my ribs, and I cling to the reins. We need to get away from the Broken Road right now.
“Hold on, little bird,” I murmur.
Wren doesn’t make a sound as I clamp my arm around her, dragging her back until she’s pressed against me, the curve of her ass melding against my front.
A chorus erupts inside me, and at any other time, I’d grin.
Sharing a horse with a beautiful woman is not a hardship, and that incessant pull within me is pleased by our nearness.
There’s no time for that, though.
As soon as Wren is secure, I jerk Chaos’s reins and squeeze my thighs. The gelding responds to my direction immediately, veering off the road and into the bushes. Early morning light filters through the trees, their arms waving as we pass.
“Keep your head down.” Leafless branches reach for our faces, intent on leaving their marks behind on our skin. “You don’t want a stick in the eye.”
Wren lowers her head without a word, and warmth curls in my stomach as a result.
So she can listen.
We race through the trees, passing fallen logs, bushes, and a babbling brook as we go deeper into the woods. After a few minutes, the anxious thrum in my chest dims.
I risk a glance over my shoulder, and there’s nothing but the endless forest all around us.
“The coast is clear, we’re alone,” I murmur.
Unsurprisingly, Wren doesn’t respond.
Trying not to let the silence get to me, I blow out a long breath and shake out my shoulders. That was far too close for comfort.
By the time we arrive at our destination, the suns have fully risen.
In the summer, the caves are barely visible through a veil of leaves. Even now, they’re surrounded by dozens of thick brown trees and bushes that remain green despite the season.
I direct Chaos inside the largest entrance. Like the well-trained steed that he is, he doesn’t balk even when his hooves clop against the stone. His movements are slower, not that I blame him. It’s been a long night, and we’re all tired.
I reach around Wren, patting the saddle’s pommel.