Chapter 20
The clearing is empty. Again.
I step past the tree line less than an hour after Lev and I went our separate ways. My new boots tramp over damp grass. Draven vanished the second he and I arrived, muttering something about “pointless errands” before slipping back into the woods like a ghost.
Now it’s just me. And silence.
No voices. No movement. Just the distant chirp of insects and the hush of leaves rustling in the wind. My skin prickles. The last time things were this quiet, I nearly died outside the forge.
Then—clang.
Metal strikes metal. Sharp. Rhythmic.
The sound comes from the other side of the massive tent in the middle of camp, where the Fae have been training me and Ferria.
I round the edge of Darius’s tent.
And freeze.
Jaxon and Rian fight like shadows given form. Blades flash. Their bare torsos gleam with sweat and runes. Their dark magic curls across their skin—alive, writhing, invigorated by the fight.
The Fae move faster than anything I’ve ever seen. My eyes can barely track them—just flashes of bronze muscle, dark steel, and movement that blurs like smoke in a firepit.
Rian spins, drops, and hooks Jaxon’s blade with his own before launching up and over and landing with a grace that steals my breath. His muscles ripple. His jaw clenches. His magic pulses in time with my heartbeat.
And Gods help me—I stare.
I shouldn’t be admiring him. Not when I still don’t know if I can trust him. Not when he’s part of the reason I’m tangled in all this mess to begin with. But something about the way he moves, the intensity, the control—
Jaxon laughs as Rian recovers from the maneuver. I jolt out of my stupor.
“Show-off,” Jaxon says.
Rian shrugs, breathless. “You’re just jealous I made you miss.”
“That’s one point. I’ve still got four.”
Rian mutters something under his breath, and then his gaze lands on me.
He falters.
Just a half step, just enough to break the flow of his footwork. But Jaxon doesn’t strike. He follows Rian’s line of sight and grins.
“Well, well. Look what the forest dragged in.”
I raise a brow. “Hello to you, too.”
“Where’s Draven?” he asks, tossing Rian a waterskin before grabbing his shirt from a stump on the ground.
“He went back into the forest, ” I say, hiking a thumb over my shoulder. “He didn’t tell me why.”
Rian and Jaxon share a look—quick, sharp—a silent conversation I’m not invited to. Then Jaxon shrugs on his shirt with a disappointed sigh.
“Shame your sister didn’t tag along.” He waggles his eyebrows. “I was hoping to show her my dagger technique.”
I suppress an amused snort. “She’s busy working at the forge.”
Rian huffs, “I’m sure she is.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Before he answers, Jaxon claps Rian on the shoulder and says, “Good luck. I’m off to find Draven.”
Now, it’s just me and Rian.
I try not to look at him too directly. He hasn’t bothered putting on a shirt, and the intricate inked designs swirling across his chest distract more than I care to admit.
“So…” I cross my arms in a feeble attempt to conceal how his presence affects me. “Where were you yesterday? I thought you were going to help me with the book.”
“I had things to attend to.”
I glance around the empty clearing, arching a brow. “Oh, yeah. Looks like you all are so busy.”
His eyes narrow, but I press on.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, what do all of you do all day? Other than measure whose sword is bigger?”
My cheeks flame as the unintentional innuendo hits me, but I don’t look away.
Rian steps closer, not threatening, but close enough that I catch the scent of sweat and incense clinging to his skin. Which is just as dangerous.
His lips curl. “Do you think we just sit around all day, except to spar for your entertainment?”
“It wasn’t that entertaining,” I clip out.
His shadows tighten around his arms. The ones around mine mimic the movement, pulling a tiny gasp from my throat.
“You have no idea what evil resides in this forest, do you?” he asks.
“Oh, I’m aware.” My chest clenches. “One nearly ripped off my shoulder the other night. Remember?”
“That was nothing.” Darkness swirls in his loaded stare. “If humans were smart, you’d all be racing to find a boat to sail to Virendrell.”
I blink. Virendrell is the heavily fortified island country to the south where, rumors say, Fae and humans live in peace together.
No one in Verdanthia believes it’s real. Or if it is, none of us are itching to live in a place where we’d obviously be second-class citizens, dominated by the more powerful Fae.
“And abandon Astloria?” I snort. “Let me guess, then you Fae would come occupy our land again?”
“No Fae in their right mind would choose to dwell in this land.”
“And yet you’re here,” I snap back. “And don’t tell me it’s for Darius. You’ve already told me you were near Cardovia weeks ago.”
His lips flatten. “We had our reasons.”
I study him for a beat. His walls are up, formidable, guarded, impenetrable.
“So...” He turns away before I can ask more. “Do you want help with that book or not?”
The urge to pry is strong, but my desire for answers is stronger.
“Fine,” I huff, brushing past him and stomping towards Darius’s tent. “Let’s see if there’s any brains behind your brawn.”
His low chuckle follows me, and I hate how the sound tingles through my body, all the way to my toes.
It turns out Rian helping me read the ancient text means I sit on the floor while he leisurely flips through the tome like it’s a bedtime story. His fingers glide across the pages, eyes scanning, humming every few seconds.
I try to keep quiet to give him time to focus. But impatience gnaws at me to know what he’s found until I can’t endure the silence for another second.
“Are you even reading?” I ask, dipping a cloth into the bowl of cool water on the nightstand. “Or are you just looking at the pictures?”
Not that I could really blame him if he is. They are lovely images.
“I assure you, I’m reading,” he replies smoothly, not even looking up. “You can consider it another superiority we Fae have over humans.”
I snort, wring out the cloth, and press it to Darius’s brow. “You know, even for a Fae, you’re incredibly arrogant.”
“I get that a lot.” The corner of his lip quirks.
Silence follows, but it’s not unpleasant. Pages rustle. Darius breathes softly. And the sounds of soldiers returning from wherever they were trickles into the tent.
“Thank you,” Rian says quietly.
I glance up. He’s watching me now. My traitorous heart skips a beat.
“For what?”
“Caring for Darius so…kindly.” Shadows curl over his fingers holding the book.
I draw my hands to my lap. “Why wouldn’t I? Darius hasn’t wronged me.”
“Most humans wouldn't share the same sentiment.” His voice is measured, assessing.
Right. Fae are our enemies. And yet…I don’t know why, but I’ve never considered Darius my enemy. He’s always just been my patient.
“I’m not someone who judges a person based on things they can’t control,” I finally say when Rian continues to stare. The dark marks on my arms swirl under his attention. “Actions mean more.”
“What about me? Do you consider me your enemy based on my actions?”
I hold his gaze. “You threatened my town.”
“And saved your life outside the forge.”
“And nearly fought one of the top military officers in the tavern that same night.”
A dark brow lifts. “That seems more like a mark in my favor, don’t you think?”
I do.
It’s certainly more than Lev did for me…
My eyes stinging, I turn back to Darius, remove the cloth, and place it back in the basin. “Why are you asking me these questions?”
“I…don’t know.”
His confused tone draws my attention once more. He’s staring at the book. His face is unreadable, but shadows whip around him, agitated.
Then he meets my stare. “Is healing the only thing you’ve ever done with your magic?”
I suck in a breath. My gaze darts to the tent flap.
“Relax. The tent is warded. No one can hear us.”
I tilt my head at the unfamiliar term. “What does warded mean?”
“It’s a type of spell. My magic surrounds us, blocking out both people and sound.”
My eyes widen. “Wow.”
“I know. I’m impressive.” He smirks, then prompts, “So…your magic?”
I purse my lips and shake my head. “Other than the night those beasts attacked, I haven’t used it for anything but healing. That was the first time I was able to use it as a—”
I cut off. Nerves flutter my pulse.
Dark eyes flicker. “As what? A weapon?”
I swallow, grab the bowl of broth from the table, and swirl the spoon. “Yes.”
“In time, you will be able to do much more.”
My hand stills. “Really?”
“With help, yes.”
“Help? From the book?” I glance at the tome in his hands.
“And me.”
I lift my gaze. “You’ll be gone in days.”
“Someone as intelligent as you can learn a lot in a couple of days.”
I scowl even as the compliment warms my chest. “You don’t know me.”
“Not personally, no.” He tilts his head, and a dark strand falls over his eye. “But did you think I wouldn’t strive to learn about you after allowing you to step foot into our camp?”
Obviously. That would be the reasonable thing to do.
“Well, I don’t know who your source is, but I doubt any of my neighbors would tell you information about me that you would want to hear.” I doubt most of them would be able to string two words together in his formidable, shadowy presence.
“You’d be surprised what one can glean by simple observation.”
Actually, I wouldn’t. As a healer, part of my job is visually assessing patients to gather information.
“I don’t want to use my magic as a weapon,” I say with a shrug. “I just want to help people.”
“Sometimes, wielding a weapon is the best way to help someone.”
I snort and swirl the spoon once more. “Spoken like someone who defaults to violence before contemplating alternative methods of resolution.”
“Now who’s acting like they know the other?” he says, sounding bored.
He turns a page.
“Well, you did threaten my town.”
“And I’d do it again.” He lifts his eyes. “For Darius or the others, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do.”
I hold his stare. A spark of respect ignites.
“I understand. I’d do anything for Ferria.” I hesitate. “Even Lev.”
The mention of my lifelong friend and lover leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I hate that. I turn back to Darius, scoop a small spoonful of broth, and let it cool before pressing it to his lips.
“You said that book was exactly what I needed to help Darius,” I say, trying to hide the heaviness from my voice. “Why?”
“Because it is.”
“Yes, thank you,” I sigh. “But how?”
“I’ll tell you when I find the relevant passage.”
I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised I don’t see stars. “You’re frustrating.”
“I get that a lot, too.”
Despite myself, my lips twitch. I jerk my head and go back to coaxing another sip of broth into Darius’s mouth.
Seconds pass.
I glance over my shoulder. Rian’s gaze pins me in place, sharp and probing. It tugs at me, pulling me in a way I shouldn’t want. My magic pulses in my veins, and I tear my gaze away, chest heaving.
What was that?
A masculine throat clears. “Is Ferria your only sibling?”
“Yes. We’re twins,” I add, even though I’m sure he already knows. I wipe away the broth that spills from Darius’s lips. “She’s younger, but better than me in most ways.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true. She’s brave. And strong. Everyone in Verdanthia loves her.”
Sure, the prejudice of being Kinless follows her, but it’s never seemed as bad for her as it is for me.
“You’re brave,” he says. “You wouldn't have spoken up in that meeting hall if you weren’t.”
Heat prickles up my neck from the intensity of his stare. I keep my eyes on Darius.
“Ferria is bolder,” I murmur. “And louder. And—”
“Your confidence is louder than hers. You just don’t hear it.”
My hands still. My chest tightens. No one has ever said anything like that to me before… Why does it make my pulse race?
I cough, then busy my hands with stirring the broth again, anything to ground me.
“What about you?” I ask. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No, I’m an only child.” He shifts the book in his hands. “But Draven, Jaxon, and Darius are my brothers in every way that matters.”
I finally lift my gaze to him. “That’s…really nice.”
“It is. Most days.” He smiles, but his eyes flicker with something I can’t name.
The low murmur from the soldiers outside cuts through the stillness.
I jerk my head toward the sound. “Where were the soldiers when I arrived?”
His shadows writhe and obscure his features. “Dealing with a problem.”
I don’t bother prying. I know a pointless cause when I see one.
Instead, I draw the blanket higher on Darius’s chest. Cool shadows shift across my arms as I move. They dance now, subtle tendrils curling with the warm magic pulsing under my skin. I suppress a shiver and peek at Rian.
He’s bent over the book, and there’s a sharpness to his jaw while he reads, a strength in the curve of his mouth. Dark lashes fan across his cheeks as his eyes scan the pages. He’s beautiful, and it’s distracting.
Stop it, Elara.
Rian is Fae. And I’m…just me. A healer from Verdanthia. A human healer. He needs me to help his friend. And I need him to leave my loved ones in peace. Once we both get what we need, we’ll go our separate ways.
Whatever strange feelings are happening between us…I can’t afford to give them a name—to let myself believe they matter.
Because they don't.
Not now. Not ever.
Not when humans are subjected to the whim of the Fae and the evil contained in their dark, undefeatable power.