Chapter 18 Breath of the Veil
brEATH OF THE VEIL
They rode hard, the forest blurring around them.
Ella had studied the Dravaryns for years: their speech, their cities, their customs. But now the land felt different, breathing, as though it were revealing itself to her at last.
Golden light filtered through the trees, catching on moss and shards of frost. Jagged cliffs jutted skyward, streaked with veins of obsidian pulsing with buried magic.
Wild black roses tangled through the underbrush, smaller and rougher than those in the castle garden, beautiful in their resilience.
The trees whispered as they passed, not with menace but with a secretive hush, the forest keeping watch.
Ella kept her hood drawn low, her silence tighter still, though her thoughts refused to quiet.
Jakobav’s glances settled against her like a thought he meant her to feel, while Maeren watched with the patience of someone waiting for a crack to appear.
Behind them, Savina rode with a deadly poise that made Ella question whether she was brave or simply reckless.
Jakobav never once turned to acknowledge her, and that made Ella wonder about their history, because soldiers this loyal didn’t simply appear.
Savina carried a dangerous sort of beauty, shaped by training and honed by a lifetime of expectation.
Whatever bound them was deep, even if it wasn’t romantic.
Did any of them suspect who she truly was? What had Jake told them to explain why she was here? Were they blindly loyal to their commander, or did they carry secrets of their own, concealed as carefully as hers?
“Fuck,” she muttered, realizing to her horror that she’d called him Jake even in her mind.
The name felt too intimate, the kind spoken only by someone he let close.
Forcing her attention back to the terrain, she traced every tree and bend in the path, memorizing the route in case she ever needed to escape alone.
They made camp just after dusk, near a crumbling ridge where the wind picked up, cold and biting, carrying the promise of a brutal frost. Everyone else had gone to scout, leaving her alone with Jakobav in the clearing. The fire cracked quietly between them, casting broken shadows across his face.
“Well?” Ella asked, crossing her arms. “Aren’t you going to set the wards?”
Jakobav glanced up and let out a low laugh, dark and unsettling.
Her brows snapped together. “What’s so funny?”
“You expect me to mutter a few words and conjure a barrier?” His mouth curved faintly. “You think Dravaryn blood works like that?”
Her eyes narrowed, defensiveness flaring. “It’s not just me. The whole realm knows the rumors. Dravaryn royalty is supposed to raise protective barriers in their sleep.”
“Sorry to disappoint you and your rumors,” Jakobav said smoothly, “but neither I nor anyone in my family has that ability.”
Ella frowned. “But how? The wards around your castle are strong. I felt them.”
For the first time, his composure cracked. His eyes widened, shock flashing raw across his face, and he studied her as though she had just spoken something impossible. With what seemed to be deliberate effort, the mask slid back into place.
“The wards around the castle were there long before us,” he said evenly, “and they’ll be there long after.”
Then what had she felt? If not Dravaryn magic…then whose?
Irritation burned in her chest—she hated being wrong. She leaned forward, her words aimed to wound. “Unless Threadshifting spreads and the Veil shatters. Then your ancient wards would crumble, and your family would fall along with them.”
The fire popped, sparks spinning into the dark.
Jakobav’s smirk vanished, gaze fixed on her, taking one step closer, then another, until his shadow swallowed her.
Then, in one sudden motion, he dropped down and planted a hand on the log beside her knee, the other on the far side, caging her in.
He leaned close, his grip tightening until the bark cracked beneath his palms. His jaw was set tight, the ruthless determination in his eyes promising her words had struck deep.
Ella’s heartbeat spiked, and she cursed herself for it, not from fear, but because part of her thrilled at the danger.
She’d wanted to unsettle him.
She hadn’t anticipated how the strike would rebound.
His hand flexed against the cracked wood like he might touch her. Her body leaned forward before her mind could stop it, then jerked back as if remembering who she was provoking. “You overstepped, and now you’re hesitating,” he said, his voice low and unforgiving.
Ella forced her chin up, covering the slip. “I’m allowed to think.”
“Then think quieter.” His expression was scathing, but he backed away just enough that she was no longer caged.
She huffed as she pushed off the log to stand, folded her arms, and looked down at him with as much confidence as she could muster. “You really know how to make a guest feel welcome.” The word lingered like a dare, guest, not prisoner.
Jakobav’s eyes held hers too long, unreadable.
The fire painted his face in warped light and shadow, and she had the distinct sense he was deciding what she was worth: an ally, an enemy, or something far more threatening.
Without a word, he rose and took one step, closing the distance again. Close enough that only her ragged breath existed in the space between them.
His gaze intensified, as though she’d just offered him a new game he intended to win.
“You keep saying guest,” he said at last, voice barely above a murmur. “As if the word itself makes it true. As if you’re testing me…waiting to see if I’ll reveal what my Guard already knows. You’re wondering if I’m hiding the truth from them or if I’ve revealed who you really are.”
The words struck like a slap.
“I didn’t say that.”
She shivered, though she wasn’t sure if it was the wind biting her skin or the way he kept prying.
“You didn’t have to.” His head tilted slightly, predatory.
Her jaw tightened. “Aren’t you?”
His eyes didn’t waver. “Would it matter?”
Yes. It would change her entire plan. But she couldn’t make herself say it.
Instead she replied, “If you are…I’d like to know why.”
Jakobav didn’t blink. He reached out, slow and deliberate, and pulled her tunic back over her shoulder. She hadn’t realized it had slipped, and his fingers grazed her collarbone, rough and calloused, warm from the fire, his thumb tracing slow circles that tested every boundary she tried to hold.
Air snagged in her throat, but she didn’t move, refusing him the gratification of seeing her react to his touch.
“You’re asking for truth when you’ve given little of it yourself,” he said. His voice was low, private, as though the fire itself had spun a cocoon around them. His hand stayed on her shoulder, warm and unyielding, a reminder that he had no intention of stepping back.
“Fine. You want honesty? I’m not hiding you.” His voice hit with the weight of a verdict. “I’m protecting you. I know who you are. I may not know what you’re hiding, but I intend to fucking find out.”
His gaze locked with hers, waiting, watching, hunting for the truth.
“But something about you…”
He leaned in, not close enough to kiss but close enough that the heat of his mouth ghosted her cheek. His grip tightened on her shoulder.
“…feels like the edge of a blade.”
Ella stilled. Jakobav’s mouth twitched, half grimace and half something darker. His thumb dragged slowly from her collarbone to the column of her throat in a smooth stroke.
“One wrong move,” he murmured, “and you’d slice a man clean through.”
His thumb paused beneath her jaw where her pulse thundered, tilting her head toward him. Not painfully, but not gently either.
“Cutting,” he added. “Delicate yet deadly.”
Ella’s breath caught, loud in the hush.
“Fuck.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Her cheeks flushed, shame rising hot and fast. She swallowed hard, the sound impossibly loud.
He didn’t move or smirk, only watched her.
The moment stretched, taut as a drawn bowstring.
Ella was growing tired of the game, flustered by the endless dance between them. She was about to demand answers, drawn to him in a way she feared would make her reveal more than she ever intended.
Before she could speak, a howl rose in the trees, hollow and wrong. It echoed from every direction at once, and the entire camp stilled. She hadn’t even noticed the others return, too lost in the Commander’s godsdamned words.
Jakobav moved before she did, his hand already on his sword as the fire cracked behind him.
“Eyes up,” he said, voice like steel. “We’ve got company.”
“Not from this realm,” Maeren said, already unstrapping her blade. “That noise went straight through my skull.”
Thane grunted in agreement.
Ella turned to the others, pulse spiking, her hands tingling with rising heat that wasn’t her fire nor was it fear. It was something older, something deeper, and she got the sense that it had been waiting.
The howl came again, low and guttural, but this time, it didn’t fade. It lingered. The sound clawed through the trees like it was searching, testing for weakness. Then…silence that was full, heavy, waiting.
Ella held her breath, the forest doing the same. No one moved, but their weapons were drawn and holding steady, eyes scanning the shadows.
They waited, but nothing stirred, like it had completely vanished.
“Jake, stop staring at her and give the orders.” Savina snapped.
He leveled her with a look that would have made any other soldier falter. Savina held her ground, but Jakobav stepped fully into command, his voice slicing through the clearing as he issued orders.
The First Guard moved instantly, training snapping into place. Soren was already in motion before his name left Jakobav’s mouth. Ella would ask about his magic later. She hoped the answer wasn’t worse than the way he moved. Thane gave her a pat and a wink as he disappeared into the trees.
“Maeren, stay with her,” Jakobav said, voice clipped.