17. Another Thread
Wilder watched as Lyra tied her feet up with scraps of fabric from Otto’s tunic. He should have been the one to cut fabric from his cloak.
The cloak still smelled faintly of her. After she was finished wrapping her feet, she stuffed them back into her boots with a wince. It clawed at him.
Maelys picked up the discarded flower and tucked it into Lyra’s hair with a smile. They clasped hands, and Maelys pulled Lyra to her feet.
“If it bleeds again—say something,” he told her.
Lyra only nodded. He didn’t like that either. He wanted to hear her words.
“Say it,” he commanded.
She lifted her chin, meeting his stare with a livid one of her own.
“I will,” she hissed.
He liked it too much when she showed her true colors, the fire that writhed within her veins, the monster that lurked under the surface. It felt more authentic. Like only he could bring out that side of her.
He didn’t want to know what that said about him.
But maybe he could push her to let the monster show, and then he wouldn’t feel too bad about killing her.
It was when she was kind that it irked him. Power like hers shouldn’t belong to anyone, but not the least bit to someone who was kind.
A monster having that power made more sense to him.
Monsters were meant to be vanquished.
Wilder glowered at her before pushing past and setting off again. He had his mind made up that they would walk until they reached Pinna. He did not want to sleep in these woods longer than necessary.
Pinna would be the last town they reached before the Wilds. After Pinna, they would cross the flatlands, a barren, sickly green wasteland of nothing that’s on the edge of the Three Sisters Swamp. After the swamp was the Valewood, and then home.
To the rolling hills of the High Land.
They were still so far away. His decision to strengthen her felt like folly now. Because the longer it took them to get to the Wilds, the longer he had to be near her.
He could still hear her stumbling behind him. She and the riot of birds fluttering about in the trees.
Wilder turned to tell Maelys to tell them to leave, but she was not flanking him. No, she was walking beside Lyra and Otto. He balled his hands into fists. Had he not just commanded them to keep their distance? Ignoring the urge to yell at Maelys, he looked forward again and kept moving.
One step at a time.
They needed to get to Pinna, and then he could have a break from her, from them all.
Lyra tripped and collapsed with a delicate shriek.
Wilder wanted to rage.
This was going to take forever. He spun and ripped her from the ground and carried her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
Fuck it.
Fuck it all to hell.
If he had to carry her the entire way there, he would. As long as he could be rid of her. Lyra stayed still, not heaving breaths or spitting an agitated remark. She must be afraid of him then.
Well, good. So long as she kept quiet, it would make his life much easier.
Ridge chuckled beside him, and he glared his way.
“Not a fucking word,” he ground out.
Ridge held his hands up in a placating gesture.
The rest of the journey passed in a blur of trees and silence. It wasn’t the reprieve he had hoped it would be.
After shifting Lyra to a more comfortable position on his back, he could feel her. Her chest expanded with air and then expelled, and her thighs clenched his waist when he walked with haste. Or she saw something interesting.
At long last, her head had fallen against his shoulder as sleep dragged her under.
In the distance, the lamps of the lanterns glowed. The flames flickered in the night, leading their way in.
It should have relieved him, but it didn’t.
An unsettling feeling crawled through him, and he paused, sweeping the village for anything amiss.
“Would you like to know?” Otto asked.
Wilder shook his head and received a grunt.
“You’re fine with knowing everyone else’s future still, but not your own?”
“I like to think I’m in control of my own decisions and not just another thread in the tapestry of the universe.”
Otto sighed through his nose. “Some threads are brighter than others. Like hers—and yours.”
He didn’t know what to make of that—and didn’t want to.
Wilder swept a wind through the village and caught the odor of something that should not be there, wulvers.
“Matthias …” he ground out. “We’re being hunted.”
“Very good, Prince.” Otto nodded. “Igneous is a few hours behind, but headed this way. If we stay, they’ll catch us, too.”
Wilder groaned. He had wanted a few hours of rest. As he shifted a sleeping Lyra to a more comfortable position, he envied her ability to rest. She slept like the dead.
“Find us some horses. I don’t care if you have to steal them.”
Ridge and Maelys vanished to find horses. Their footsteps were silent despite the leaves and twigs.
They stayed quiet. Listening and preparing for whatever could be lurking in the darkness. Lyra whimpered in her sleep, and Wilder hushed her, soothing her back to slumber.
“I have seen—” Otto began. Wilder cut him off.
“I don’t want to know.”
“It’s not about you—it’s about her.”
Wilder grimaced and then inclined his head.
“She will need you.”
Wilder stared ahead, not daring to look at Otto.
“It will be your decision, of course. But your ability or inability to set your preconceived ideas aside will lead to great change or utter destruction.”
“Funny how you said this was about her,” Wilder snapped.
“You are tied together. There is not one without the other.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Otto smirked and shrugged. “Would you like to know?”
Damn him and his stupid riddles. He didn’t want to be tied to anyone. He was already tied to the court and his responsibilities. There wasn’t anything of himself left.
The thudding of hooves interrupted Wilder’s reply.
“We could only find four,” Maelys said, coming upon them astride a white mare. She tugged a black stallion behind her. Ridge sat astride a dappled gray mare and pulled along a golden mare.
Otto chuckled, and Wilder bit his tongue. Of course, they only found four. It was like the universe was doing everything in its power to continue to shove them together.
Wilder passed Lyra off to Otto so he could mount the black stallion. His body felt light, vacant, without her.
When Otto passed her back, he settled her in front of him so that she could continue sleeping. She didn’t stir once in the handoff. His brow furrowed. She must have been exhausted.
His heart fluttered in his chest, the space between his ribs squeezed tight. Something was coming. And it was not good.
They set off immediately. The horse’s speed jostled Lyra, but still, she did not wake. What pain she must have been in to sleep this hard.