Chapter 25
Ren followed through with his punishment during my training this morning, meeting me in the arena two hours before dawn. I had woken up early only to find him waiting with a menacing grin. The kind of grin that had me stifling a groan.
But I complied without complaint, only because I knew I needed to leave the castle again and didn’t want questions flung my way. He didn’t say a word the entire morning, only stood by, silently watching until the sun rose before leaving to hand out missions—which are still happening.
Now, I pull my cloak tighter around my chest, fighting off the chill coming in from between the trees as Rydian and I ride further into the forest.
“Where are we going exactly…?” I ask warily.
I’ve never ventured out this far since there’s been no need to. Our missions are typically located in the cities, and the furthest I’ve gone is Nymara. Instead of going further north on our way into the Twin Valley, we veered east, deeper into the woods.
We decided to Veil into Alvonia earlier to save time and to grab some items from the loft, including the bag slung across my chest.
Though my experience with traveling through the Veil remains nothing short of chaotic. I hoped that after stealing the map, my time in the Veil would get easier.
But I was clearly wrong in that assumption.
As soon as we arrived in the loft, my head started spinning, forcing me to tuck myself between my legs to keep from retching all over his floor. Rydian growled, “You better get a bucket because I’m not cleaning that,” which didn’t help my nausea.
Better than the first few times, but still.
He was adamant on traveling to the Siphon—whose name is Milena—through the Veil, but I convinced him not to.
That if he didn’t want me to hurl up everything I ate this morning, we would be grabbing a horse from one of the local stables.
I instantly regretted the wording because he did, in fact, come back with a single horse, forcing me to ride with him.
“The Whispering Woods,” he mutters finally.
“What?” My brows lower on a growl, leaving me to pivot in the saddle to face him. His eyes dart to mine as a smug grin pulls at his lips, full of wicked amusement.
“Do you know what that is?” I ask, facing forward.
“Are you frightened?”
I only scoff, unable to help the smidgen of fear that rises in my chest. Not that I couldn’t handle myself, I’d just rather… not. The Whispering Woods hold the spirits of the realm, but creatures of Elderheim live there as well. Including Grokees, Wraiths, Nightlurkers, and Howlers.
All of which I have no interest in meeting today, and now I’m going in with only a horse and a few knives? King Elion wouldn’t dare go into those woods. He doesn’t even send the brethren in them, knowing just how dangerous they are.
“I told you that we should have Veiled in,” he murmurs. “But you insisted we use a horse. I’ve already traveled through the area. We should be fine for now.”
He mentioned that he tracked Milena soon after we arrived in Alvonia, having traveled here the week prior. I wondered how he could have tracked her so fast given that she’s in hiding. He only told me that it had something to do with Bess, and that she wasn’t willing to fork out the information.
“Easy for you to say,” I mumble, now hyperaware of every noise and crunch of the branches lining the path.
The dirt road is scattered with the leaves left over from fall, creating a blur of yellows, oranges, and reds. Although winter is in full force, the trees are so thick that the snow hardly covers the road we travel down, sheltering us from the harsh winds.
It’s also a path frequently traveled on, given the thick indents in the road, leaving me to wonder who could be traveling to and from the Whispering Woods. Rydian sits snug behind me, and I catch myself thinking about the drawing he left.
“I saw the drawing,” I mutter.
“Did you like it?”
“Maybe,” I say, fighting a grin. “How did you learn?”
My hood falls, and he pushes my braid to the side, playing with the loose, dark strands that hang off my neck. I stiffen slightly, silently thanking myself for tucking my birthmark within the braid before leaving.
I don’t know why I choose to still hide it, perhaps a habit at this point. Regardless, I can’t help the rising flush to my neck from his touch. And then he hums to himself before answering.
“Andre’s mother, Queen Jhessa, used to take me to the city while Andre was learning how to be a king through his father. We would often travel to the market together, sketching the folks that shopped. It’s a nice memory.”
“Are your parents still around?” I ask, because even though he mentioned that King Malvain raised him, he never went into detail if his parents were alive or not. He’s silent for a moment, as if he’s taking the time to think about his answer.
“No,” he murmurs softly. “My mother died shortly before I left to live with King Malvain. And my father…” He trails off, then quietly sighs. “He was a selfish male, but he’s not around anymore. Andre’s family helped shape who I am.”
Before I can stop myself, my hand grazes his leg the moment he slips an arm around my waist. My heart skips, unease suddenly prickling my neck as an unfamiliar feeling of warmth curls in my stomach, leaving me hesitant.
Almost like the slow realization that I might actually like him. Like he’s growing on me—something more than just a simple infatuation. It’s sharp and hard to push down, impossible to ignore.
Yet the thought of being the heir to Aurelia plagues me. Can I say no to being queen? What if I don’t want it?
If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about ruling a realm of Fae I know nothing of. Not fully anyway. The history of them has been lost over the years due to King Elion’s laws—banning the Shadovar, cursing their name, and punishing the residents of Elderheim who speak of them.
My thoughts continue to spin, but after a couple of hours of riding, I hate to admit that Rydian was right—we weren’t bothered while we traveled. Why is it so feared if there’s nothing here?
Sable, our mare, suddenly plants herself in the middle of the road and comes to an abrupt stop. I glance around, feeling as if we’re being watched.
“Why did we stop?” I whisper, gripping the dagger that’s secured to my thigh, palming the hilt. I’m confused as to why we would be stopping in the middle of the road when it clearly doesn’t end for miles. My stomach twists.
Then he begins to whisper something I don’t understand, murmuring under his breath, looking above and into the trees.
I pivot, my brows pinching as I’m suddenly drawn in by the curve of his lips while he speaks—precise and fluid. Then a shimmer of what must have been a glamour begins to fade, rippling across and outward, revealing a hidden home.
Tucked neatly into the forest is a unique cottage built into a large tree on our right. With the door being regularly sized, I begin to wonder how someone could live in a place so small.
“We’ve arrived,” he says and hops down, offering me his hand.
I look down and then back to his face as he arches a brow, leaving me to sigh and sheathe my dagger. My stomach flutters. I slip my hand in his and swing my leg over. Rydian’s hands slide up my waist to steady me, leaving me to sharply inhale.
“Stay close, little fawn. There are creatures nearby, but don’t be alarmed.” His breath grazes the shell of my ear.
We walk through the glamour, and then it conceals us like a cloak again. I reach my hand for his, despite feeling ridiculous, and tuck myself into his side. I scowl at the thought of those creatures as my eyes graze the area.
Things creep me out, especially Grokees. After that nasty bite in the Twin Valley, I don’t plan on revisiting a wound that took two days to recover from.
Rydian glances down with a smirk, our hands still joined. Scowling, I drop his hand and step to the left, falling into step behind him.
“Where are we?” I mutter under my breath.
“Milena’s home. Heavily glamoured to turn away anyone who ventures too close. Bess informed me that once the horse stops and we feel the need to turn around, we’ve arrived. But I had only gone so far, so I didn’t know what to expect.”
“She lives in a tree?” I ask.
I’m not convinced this isn’t a hoax. Who in their right mind would live in a tree? Stopping just outside the wooden door, Rydian knocks as I look up. And up. It just keeps going.
The tree swallows the sky above us, not a cloud in sight. It’s eerily quiet as we wait. The only sound is our breathing and the soft breeze that slips through the trees.
My eyes flick over the area again, searching for anything indicating a presence. With a glance down, I notice a disturbance in the mud and take a step back, eyeing the footprints beneath my feet.
Massive—easily twice the size of my hands—and I quickly notice a path around the tree. Curiosity tugs at me, eyes fixed on the ground as I move left, carefully trailing the large footprints. My steps remain quiet and light, not daring to disturb the leaves as I begin to round the tree.
“Isa,” Rydian whispers, but I brush him off with a wave of my hand. My braid falls to my left as I look over my shoulder, meeting his gaze with a small grin—a look warning me to stay nearby while we wait.
“I found prints,” I say on a breath.
Rydian stiffens, shoulders going rigid as his eyes widen, shadows instantly forming in his palms. I halt dead in my tracks, a dagger already in my palm.
I feel it first and then hear it—the hot breath and growl emanating from the creature beside me. Breathing down my neck, blowing pieces of hair across my face with a menacing growl.
I stand frozen, mirroring Rydian as we stare at each other. My eyes squeeze shut. I’m begging the thing to not eat my face off as I inhale, willing my body not to run.
Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run.
“If you run… I will eat you,” it warns me in a tone so low that it raises the hair on my arms. Oh my gods, it spoke to me.
“I see you’ve met my wonderful companion,” a stern female voice says.
I’m too frightened to breathe, afraid I’ll cause the thing to lunge for my throat, given its mouth so close to my neck. I slowly turn, facing the creature and the female beside it, eyeing what has Rydian so paralyzed with fear. I’m met with the largest Howler I’ve ever seen.
One of the ancient wolves, where Grokees originate from.
Only Grokees are sick.
This one still has all of its fur and flesh, somehow making it more terrifying. Its controlled anger chills me far more than that of a Grokee, where I can anticipate its rage and hunger.
The Howler’s sharp canines are four inches long, its tongue tucked inside its mouth as it snarls in my face, deep and low in warning. Its fur is a deep gray with a white undercoat, eyes a shade of gold, reminding me of a wildfire.
A raging, angry wildfire.
My eyes graze the female standing beside it, her head reaching the top of its haunches.
Fair-skinned with tawny brown hair and hazel eyes, wearing rounded glasses, Milena looks to be in her fifties, indicating that she must be a few hundred years old.
She smiles, giving the damn thing a pat—like a hound.
“Sit, Grim,” she says.
He suddenly calms his growling, allowing me to straighten and wipe the sweat off my forehead, adrenaline coursing hot through my veins. Rydian comes up to my right, slowly nudging me behind him.
“I’m Rydian Vaelborne, king of Aurelia. We came to see if you had any information regarding the last Siphon,” he says, getting right to the point, it seems. I smack him for the poor introduction, earning me a glare and a shrug.
“Why are you trespassing?” Milena asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously. She gives us both a once-over, then shakes her head. “Never mind. I have no answers for you, and I want no part in it.”
She gives Grim a final pat, sending him into the forest as she strides to the front door of her tree.
Rydian follows, growing agitated. “We just need a moment to talk. We’ll be quick. You might be the only one who can give us anything of use, and we would greatly appreciate your help.”
“No,” she clips.
And I can practically see Rydian growing more frustrated, his jaw clenching over her clipped words. He throws me a hardened scowl as if silently urging me to step in. She finally reaches her door, placing her palm on the frame as three runes light up, unlocking it in an instant.
I step forward. “Please, Milena. I fear someone in the castle has been siphoning my memories. We don’t know who else to turn to. If we can just sit down for a minute, we won’t be very long. We can pay you for your time—”
“No.” She brushes me off, already halfway inside.
“Please, my name is Isa, and I’m…” The heir of Aurelia, I almost blurt. My eyes flare as I suddenly wonder why I was about to admit that, but her head whips to me with wide eyes.
“Isa?” she whispers.
Does she know me? My brows furrow, but I don’t know what else to say so I just stand there. Rydian’s stare blazes into the side of my face.
“Just a few minutes,” I say.
I don’t want to be here anymore than she wants us here, but we need this information, and she’s our only lead. If she says no, we’ll have to start over and hope we can track the other Siphon. She holds my gaze a moment longer when she finally huffs.
“One hour. That’s it!” She steps inside, and I shoot Rydian a grin. “Hurry up! The door won’t stay open for long!”