Chapter 11 #2
Shadows swirl at Rian’s feet, their movement graceful, as flickers of blue and purple peek through the streaks of black and gray. Mesmerized by the vibrant power, I don’t immediately notice how it creeps along the browned grass toward me.
One tendril reaches my flat shoe. I suck in a breath. Warmth brushes the top of my foot. I assumed his shadows would be cold. But no. They’re warm like a ray from the mid-summer sun.
A shiver runs up my spine. The shadow hesitates, then coils around my ankle. The shadows on my arms slither.
I lift my gaze to ask Rian why the dark marks on my arms seem to respond, but words die on my lips.
Silver encompasses his blown pupils. There isn’t a hint of smoke or black under his brows. It should terrify me, that inhuman gleam. Instead, the molten heat simmering in his gaze sears through my veins.
My heart races.
I step forward. The shadows on my arm pull the limb up, and I reach for Rian. The tendril around my ankle nips at my flesh.
Gods, I want to touch him.
I have to touch him.
“ELARA!?” The shout pierces the hazy curtain in my mind. “Where in Mother’s name are you?”
I jerk back. The shadow around my ankle flitters away, and the ones on my arms still.
Across the tent, Rian holds my gaze, but he blinks, and the light in his eyes is gone.
“Elara!” Jaxon calls again.
Rian turns toward the tent opening. “In here, Jaxon.”
A gust of air precedes Jaxon’s arrival. The fabric behind him opens with a snap.
The Fae’s eyes fly over the tent, focus on me, and the tension fades from his shoulders. “Thank The Mother.”
My eyes widen, and I rush to his side. “What happened?”
Jaxon’s tunic is disheveled. Dirt smudges his hands and face, but it’s the torn sleeve covering his right arm that draws my attention. A dark stain seeps into the fabric.
Without giving him time to answer, I shove the sleeve aside and gape at the raised pink scar running down the length of his arm. A gasp lodges in my throat as the bulging flesh begins to recede into a smooth, flat line with no discoloration.
Gods…I didn’t know Fae could heal so fast.
“It’s nothing.” Jaxon adopts his typical easygoing tone. He smirks down at me. “While I don’t mind the touch of a beautiful woman, I promise I’m okay.”
Rian growls behind me. “Where’s Draven?”
Jaxon’s humor fades as he meets Rian’s gaze. “With Darius.”
The two share a loaded look.
I whip my head between them. Unease curdles in my gut. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Their tense stare-off continues for another second.
Then Jaxon looks away, and his posture relaxes. “As I said, nothing. A thorny bush snagged my tunic in the forest. Which is a shame. It’s one of my favorites.”
He tugs at the center of the midnight-black shirt, identical to every tunic he’s worn since I’ve met him.
I cross my arms, not willing to let him dodge my questions that easily. “Why were you in the forest?”
You were supposed to escort me home.
His easygoing expression flickers before he reinforces it. “Relieving myself.”
The way his eyes dart to Rian exposes the lie, and I can’t shake the distinct impression that he’s shielding me from some sort of secret. Or plan.
“Are you ready to return home?” Jaxon asks before I can call him out on the lie. “Or are you in need of a cot tonight? If so, I’m willing to share mine.”
My lips part, and heat blooms in my cheeks.
Rian snaps, “Knock it off, Jax.”
“Sorry.” Jaxon chuckles. “I couldn’t resist.”
He doesn’t sound sorry at all.
I dart my eyes between the Fae. Rian avoids my gaze, his hard stare trained on the tent flap, as if searching for whatever mysterious threat caused the cut on his friend’s arm.
“Well?” Jaxon breaks the silence.
I tear my gaze from Rian, frowning at the amused glint in Jaxon’s eyes. “Well, what?”
“Are you ready to go home?”
Yes…and no.
I can’t help myself—I glance at Rian. Shadows coil around his shoulders like smoke, flickering and fading with a brewing storm he keeps buried beneath his composed exterior. I want answers, but I’m no fool. Neither of the males in this tent is inclined to tell me anything. Not tonight.
“Let’s go,” I say, moving past Jaxon, ignoring the burn of Rian’s stare between my shoulder blades.
I step out of the tent and freeze. “What the—”
The clearing was empty when I woke up. There wasn’t a soldier in sight. All the fires were dying embers.
Now?
Flames roar in the firepits, and dozens of Fae soldiers are spread throughout the clearing. Some talk quietly, their voices low and lips unreadable. Others sleep, their faces veiled by a cloth over their eyes, like they’ve been here all along.
But they haven’t. I know they haven’t.
Jaxon appears beside me. “Elara? Are you okay?”
I stare, my pulse skittering. How did the entire squad appear without a sound? And why didn’t any of them react to Jaxon arriving after clearly being in a fight of some kind?
Something’s wrong. Very wrong.
And the way Jaxon watches me, a dark shadow in his eyes…he knows I’ve noticed.
I swallow my rising fear. “Yeah…I’m okay.”
He waits, giving me a chance to say more.
I tear my gaze away from the unsettling scene. “Should we get going? It’s late.”
I force myself not to fidget under his lingering scrutiny.
Finally, he nods, and his tone adopts his usual easy-going cadence. “Of course.”
He turns toward the trees, and I follow.
As we step into the looming darkness of the Forbidden Forest, branches swallowing the firelight behind us, a strange relief washes over me, followed by an incredible realization.
I’d rather face the monsters that haunt these woods than stay one more second in that camp. And that admission scares me more than anything.
Because tomorrow, I’ll be right back there.
I don’t have a choice…not unless I want to sacrifice everything and everyone I’ve ever loved.