CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN #3
The goat and lion heads shook back and forth with laughter, while its bull-sized leg began to paw at the ground, kicking up dirt.
You were offered the chance, Azete. Our brethren told you more would come, it hissed into my mind. We warned you.
That was what the other chimera had told me. More will come.
I shifted my body forward, angling in front of Brennan. “Stay close to me,” I commanded. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Then I met the chimera’s eyes. All four of them, dark and tinged with red, the whites of their eyes cloudy like fog.
Why warn me? I asked silently. What do you want?
The goat laughed again and spoke into my mind, its voice gravelly on its own. Not what. Wrong question. It’s who. Who do we want? Go on. I know you want to know the answer. You’ve always been curious. Ask. Ask us.
I didn’t like the way it spoke as if it knew me.
As if there was a history between us I knew nothing about.
But somehow, I could feel the truth of it.
There was something bigger happening, something I didn’t understand.
I had the same feeling I had when I met the female witch guarding Olivay.
When I was first near Jaron’s black armor.
My stomach twisted. Who do you want?
This time it was the lion speaking into my mind. Its lips curled into a snarl as its eyes paled with white fog. The prince. We want the prince.
Brennan? I moved my body, shielding him from the beast, taking an even wider, protective stance. Why? What is he to you?
“What’s happening?” Brennan whispered.
“I’m going to kill it,” I hissed. But right at that moment I could feel the drain on my power. All the shifts I’d made, the flight I’d taken, the wings I’d sprouted, and the sheer force of strength I’d summoned to slay the first beast.
If I didn’t kill this one soon, I was going to run out of magic. I’d return to a state of my body and face that I didn’t want Brennan to see. A state I still hated and feared.
I needed to act, to conserve my energy and reunite Brennan with his knights—his guard—wherever the hell they were.
I dove into myself, harnessing my power, pulling it up through my arms and my fingers, and then I ran, knowing this was my one shot. My one chance.
The beast charged, running just out of my way, heading right for Brennan.
I spun on my heels, racing back for him. He lifted his sword and cried out, thrusting it toward the lion.
There was a scream and a roar as his blade sliced through the lion’s neck.
Blood splattered, and Brennan cried out, falling to the ground.
I rounded toward the goat head, and with a swing of my arm, it was dead.
The goat’s eyes shut. Its head rolled to the ground, just as the rest of its body collapsed behind it.
Brennan struggled onto his knees, crawling to me, out of breath. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No. Are you?”
He shook his head. “You saved me,” he said. His eyes met mine, and he reached for my hand. “Thank you.”
“You should get back to safety—to your people.”
But his brows furrowed, his jaw clenching.
“Please,” he said, his voice desperate, begging.
“I must know the truth. Because you … Gods, you feel familiar to me, like I know you, and the way you fight—you fight like her. You move like her. You have the same spark in your eyes.” His gaze dipped down my body, taking in the tunic and riding pants.
“The same clothes, too.” He frowned. “I know that you’ve always had to hide.
I understand why. But I’ve been searching for you, looking every day, going against every order of my king.
I need to know, or I’ll go mad. Are you Samara? ”
The backs of my eyes burned. And I shook my head, my red hair full of dirt and sweat, my stomach twisting with the deception. “No,” I said. “I’m not her. I’m just someone who came to help.”
“You’re Azete,” he said. “Aren’t you?”
I stiffened. Instinctively pulling back.
“No, no. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” He held out his hand, his palm up. “I swear.”
“The rest of Eskalon feels differently.”
“I am not the rest of Eskalon. Nor am I your enemy. I would never turn you in. I am just begging you to tell me if you’re lying. I understand why you would be. More than you know. But you don’t have to. Not with me.”
It didn’t seem to matter that I wouldn’t confirm my identity, that I looked completely different, or that I absolutely refused to acknowledge that I was Samara.
He believed I was. I could feel it. And because he did, because he was so sure, his heart was pouring his feelings into me, in thick, powerful waves.
I couldn’t let this continue. Couldn’t let the Azete feed. Brennan was growing weaker with every moment he thought I was Samara. Every second that thought added to the guilt he felt for betraying Olivay.
He needed to get back to the hunting lodge, to escape the dangers of the forest at night. But he was alone. And I was taking too much of his life. Again.
He will die.
“I do know Samara,” I said quickly. “But I am not her.”
“You’re not?” His face fell. “Truly?”
“I’m not.”
He shook his head, completely defeated, his heart feeling like it was breaking. And I could feel all of it, feel like my own heart was breaking, too.
“Is she … May I ask, is she all right? Is she safe?” he asked, tears in his eyes.
Mine burned in response, my throat dry. And I nodded. “She is. She’s as safe as she can.”
His jaw worked, his throat muscles clenching. “Good. Good.” His nostrils flared. “Will you—will you tell her when you see her—tell her that Brennan remains her loyal friend.”
I want you as my friend. And I want you as my lover.
I could still hear him saying those words in the moon garden. Hear the undertone of the word friend even now.
I swallowed. “I will.”
“And tell her that if she ever needs anything, anything at all,” he said. “Tell her to come find me. I don’t care what face she wears. Tell her she is welcome at the castle.”
“I will pass your message on.” I rose to my feet and took his hand.
He groaned, coming back to his feet, and reached for his sword, about to resheath it.
I shook my head. “Keep it out. Just in case. Now go!”
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine, but this is where I leave you. Be well, and be safe,” I said.
His eyes widened. “Wait.”
But I ran into the dark. Not because I was running out of power, but because Olivay was supposed to be at the hunting lodge. I had to beat him there. I had to get back to the clearing before anyone realized I was missing.
The second I was behind enough trees, I shifted my calves again, giving myself runner’s legs.
What I needed were my witchmoth wings. But even with all I’d taken from Brennan, it wasn’t enough to fly, not if I wanted to become Olivay again.
Transforming back to her from Alyra was going to take everything I had.
So I ran, darting through the trees, racing across stones that lay in the river where I’d found Jaron.
Then running up the hill, dodging branches and bushes, and overgrown trunks of trees in the ground.
Robins began to chirp again, insects buzzed, and overhead moonstags flew.
This time with riders on their backs, calling out Brennan’s name.
And one who flew solo, his fur just a touch more golden than the others. Brennan’s stag. Aurick.
I let out a deep breath as I reached the camp. Thank the Gods for the riders. They’d find Brennan. He'd be back at the lodge within minutes, returning on the back of Aurick. He’d be safe. And this whole fucking night would be over.
With a few more steps, no one would know I’d even left. Olivay could sneak right back into the chaos and feign complete ignorance of everything that had just happened.
I grabbed hold of the nearest tree, making sure to keep my hood tight over my head. I still had Alyra’s red hair, and being this close to the torches that lined the clearing, it would easily be seen, easily rouse suspicion.
A few minutes passed as I assessed the movements of the nobles outside the lodge. Olivay’s parents were speaking with King Tirian, and everyone seemed occupied, engrossed in finding the prince, in killing the chimera. No one seemed worried about me. Or even aware I was gone.
One of the soldiers I’d seen rushing out when I ran into the woods had just returned, reporting all three chimera were dead. Everyone moved and crowded around him for the full report, eagerly asking for news of the men.
It was perfect. I could sneak back into the lodge and reemerge as Olivay. No one would be the wiser that I had ever left. Brennan would never know that it was me who’d come to save him.
I took a step forward. And another. A robin chirped from the trees above my head.
A branch broke behind me, and then another snapped in half.
Someone breathed down my neck. I stilled, about to turn, preparing to fight.
But rough hands grabbed me, one wrapping around my mouth before I could scream, and the other covering my nose.
“Got you, witch.” Stephen. I recognized his voice from the river. Could feel his body pressed against mine.
I twisted, trying to escape, but I’d used up nearly all of my energy with the chimera, with getting back to the lodge. He only pulled me harder against him, his grip like steel.
I groaned, tightening my core and trying to kick him.
But I missed. He was moving, taking me with him, dragging me back into the darkness beneath the trees.
My heels dug through the dirt and debris as we plunged into darkness.
I could smell urine—his. But I couldn’t see a fucking thing.
I railed against my captor and bucked. But it was no use. He slammed me to the ground.