Chapter 32
He was so fucking weak.
Andrian suppressed a groan, pushing a hand through his hair. He stumbled a step, his boot catching on a stone in the overgrown road. A muscle tensed in his jaw as he fought to control his frustration.
Frustration at himself.
He’d felt like this all day. Even as he’d lain awake the night before, trying not to move or breathe or do anything to fuck things up further than he already had.
Mariah had fallen asleep quickly in his arms. He knew she was frustrated with him. Even though their bond was silent, he felt her simmering annoyance bubbling beneath her skin.
If only she knew how much danger she was in, just because he couldn’t stay away.
All he could think about was how it had been too easy.
Everything had been effortless and convenient.
Escaping a heavily guarded castle undetected, Cielle finding him in the woods, Kodie crossing his path and making his journey north less arduous than it would’ve been.
How Mariah herself had somehow been waiting in just the right place for him to find her.
It made him queasy, like he was sitting on the edge of a cliff and waiting for a gentle breeze to push him over.
Anniliese’s last words to him—that she wanted to convince him not to leave—didn’t ease his terror. A deep, dark instinct whispered to him that he might have just done exactly what Kol wanted, even if he couldn’t see how it would play out for the god in the end.
Andrian’s toe clipped another rock, sending it flying down the road ahead of them, and a forest-green stare warmed his cheek.
Mariah led Kodie beside him, the horse laden with their tent packs and bedrolls and anything they didn’t want to carry themselves. She’d been silent as he stewed in his self-loathing, watching him with a disconcerting sharpness that scratched at his skin.
He wished she would stop. Knew her questions about last night lingered right there on the tip of her tongue, kept only at bay by whatever she read on his face.
Gods, last night. Andrian clenched his left fist, hidden from Mariah by his body, nails digging into his palm.
He hadn’t expected his questions to break her like that.
Mariah had always been exceptional at bottling up her emotions, cloistering them inside until she felt safe enough to let them all out.
It was just one of the many traits that, for better or worse, they both shared.
When she’d finally let everything she was feeling out…that was his first moment of weakness. Just the idea of not going to her, of not doing everything he could to comfort her, had nearly shredded him to pieces.
So, he’d pulled her into his arms, all his strength and resolve crumbling.
Being with Mariah was instinctual. As natural to him as breathing or sleeping. It was too easy to slip back into the way things always were. He was gone the moment her lips met his, washed away in the woman who’d shown him what it meant to live.
Fuck, it had been perfect. The way she’d writhed and bucked beneath him before going soft and pliant. The flutter of her lashes, the sweetness of her breath, that gods-damned blush spreading across her cheeks and neck.
It was perfect.
Then she’d said those words.
Take it from me.
She’d come undone beneath him, but he’d been shoved violently back into that great hall in Khento, pinned to a chair by Kol’s power as the dark god showed him a vision of Mariah.
A vision of Mariah saying those exact words, but with Kol’s fingers buried in her instead.
Reality had slammed back into him like a wave. What the fuck was he doing? He remembered how easily Kol had gained a foothold in his mind. Manipulating the way he’d thought, dreamt, spoke. Even the things he did.
His hands were still stained red with Julian Laurent’s blood, for fucks sake.
Mariah might’ve burned out Kol’s direct connection, but something remained. Something as crucial and vital to him as life itself. Maybe it was the cursed magic, all those winding shadows in his soul that cried out for their maker.
Even now, Andrian could still feel Kol’s influence.
Lingering, lurking, watching. Or maybe he didn’t, but it didn’t really matter.
There was still something there, something of Kol’s that had found purchase and was waiting for the right moment of weakness.
The right moment to slip back in and manipulate him to hurt someone else.
Andrian knew who that someone would be. It made his hands clammy, made fear spread sickly fingers down his spine and sink deep claws into his gut.
He shouldn’t be here; being near her was a mistake—
“If you don’t say anything all day, I will actually go insane.”
He nearly jumped out of his skin at Mariah’s voice. He tilted his head, just enough to meet her narrowed gaze, the annoyance now plain in her green eyes.
It seemed her patience for him had finally run out.
Andrian shook his head, forcing a weak smile. “Miss my voice that much, princess?”
Mariah’s scowl faltered. “I miss a lot of things, Andrian.”
Miss.
Not missed.
He returned his gaze to the road. He should tell her. He’d told her when his father had threatened her life, all those months ago.
He’d done that then to hurt her, to push that away. This time though, he’d be doing it to save her life. Because he loved her far more than he cared about his own future happiness.
But every time he tried to form the words, they slipped away. His confession tasted like ash on his tongue, burning his mouth beneath his swallowed shame.
The small silver ring—the one set with tanzanite and carrying far too many memories—burning a hole in his pocket certainly wasn’t helping.
Maybe one day he’d be ready. Not yet—not today.
“It feels strange to be here,” he said, words just for Mariah. She was silent, waiting for him to continue. “In my mother’s homeland. I always dreamed of visiting one day, but…all those dreams involved her being here, too.”
He hated the way a piece of him settled at the touch of Mariah’s hand, at the way her fingers wound through his.
Weak.
“I’m sorry she’s not,” she said quietly.
He gave a small shrug. “So much has changed since those dreams. I feel like I hardly know who she was anymore.”
“Of course, you do.” Her grip tightened. “The mother you knew didn’t change. Life is complicated for everyone. Learning more about someone’s past changes nothing about who they are at present.”
Gods, there was nothing about Mariah that he deserved. Not one gods-touched thing.
His throat closed and he faced the road with a tightness to his expression that he knew looked like a scowl.
Instead of trying to answer, he swept his gaze over the soaring Everheim Mountains.
Water babbled beside the road, the birds calling in the trees.
The creek they’d been following had widened, the water growing swifter and deeper as it morphed into a true river.
Cielle circled above them, feathers flashing as she faded in and out of view.
Andrian forced a swallow before gesturing up at the bird. “You still haven’t told me about your new friend.”
Mariah found Cielle easily amongst the clouds. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Truthfully,” she said quietly, “I’m still figuring that one out, too.”
They fell back into an easy silence, her hand still in his, Kodie’s hooves clipping the packed earth. That was one thing he’d always loved most about Mariah; she felt the same comfort in silence that he did.
Their companions, though, didn’t seem to share the same conviction.
“This place is lovely, but…where are all the people?” Matheo asked from behind them.
Signe, walking beside him, laughed. “Leuxrith is not like Onita,” she said. “We do not travel along roads with loud wagons and thin-legged horses.”
“Signe,” Matheo said dryly, “we’re literally walking on a road.”
Andrian shared a glance with Mariah, both stifling a chuckle.
Signe sighed audibly. “This road is only for those entering Leuxrith and making for Eyarfell,” she said.
“Those who live here have their own roads. Smaller paths that move through the forest and with the mountains. Villages and towns are tucked deep in the trees or nestled in the cliffs themselves.” She paused, and Andrian was tempted to turn to see what her expression was like.
Maybe it was wistful, a happiness to be back in her home.
A feeling Andrian had never known, not truly.
Mariah’s hand squeezed his again, and despite all the dark feelings he carried, he couldn’t help the way his lips kicked up in a smile.
Well, maybe he did know what home was. It just wasn’t a place for him, but a person.
If only his home wasn’t threatened by his very existence.
“We live a simple life here,” Signe continued. “There is a court in Eyarfell, but you will find that it is different. Leuxrithians prefer their smaller communities and connections with the earth and spirits rather than grappling for wealth and power.”
Mariah snorted. She twisted over her shoulder. “All men crave power and wealth, Signe.”
Signe was silent. “We shall see,” she said quietly. Andrian didn’t miss the sly, knowing lilt to her words.
Matheo, though, wasn’t done. “That sounds great,” he said. “But isn’t Eyarfell a city? And you said it was only a two day walk from the border.” He huffed. “So, are we close?”
“Oh, very close.” There was a smile in Signe’s voice. Cielle’s sharp cry pierced the cool mountain air. Her feathers shifted fully, and she disappeared from view.
Mariah stopped abruptly, pulling Andrian to a halt with her. She released his hand, whirling around. “Callamus—”
The god—who’d been following them at the rear—gave them all a small, almost mischievous smile before taking off into a run. Winds buffeted their faces as a great indigo dragon burst from starlit smoke, leaping into the sky with only a few thunderous strokes of his wings.
“Thanks for the help, asshole,” Mariah muttered. Andrian choked back a laugh.
The sound earned him a hard glare. “What’s so funny?”
Fucking Enfara, he couldn’t help himself.
He never could. He laughed more fully this time, wrapping an arm around Mariah’s shoulders and drawing her into him.
She nestled against his side as if on instinct—as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Jasmine and cedarwood surrounded him and he struggled desperately to remind himself why this was bad.
Struggled, and failed. He planted a soft kiss onto the crown of her head, allowing him just a moment to inhale that intoxicating scent. “Only you would call an immortal, all-powerful god an asshole, nio.”
She scoffed. “Immortal, maybe. But they’re far from all-powerful, I think.”
Andrian frowned, pulling back. “What do you mean—”
He didn’t get to ask the rest of his question.
Thundering hoofbeats sounded over the ridge, but they were different from horses—slower, less cadenced. Signe raced past, her silver cloak billowing around her.
“Madr!” she called, just as the new arrivals crested the ridge.
Andrian knew that word. Signe had said it to him once, back in that inn on the way to Khento. It was one his mother had taught him.
Countryman.
Three great beasts with curling horns, white fur thick and bushy, appeared on the road. On their backs sat three men wearing simple, comfortable garb. The beasts’ cloven hooves trotted down the rise as they chewed idly on their bits.
Matheo inched closer. “Are those…goats?”
“It would seem so, Matheo,” Mariah answered, stepping out of Andrian’s embrace. She followed Signe, Kodie walking behind her with pricked ears and curious eyes.
And Andrian, as he always would—no matter how much he knew he shouldn’t—followed.
The three riders and their very large goat-steeds stopped, conversing quietly with Signe. They lifted their gazes as Mariah approached, and Andrian would’ve bristled if everything about them wasn’t so docile.
No visible weapons. Soft, open expressions with laugh lines around their eyes. Not a trace of distrust.
Which was strange enough, but still, neither Andrian nor Matheo reached for their weapons.
The leader—a dark-skinned man with Leuxrithian amethyst eyes—slid off his mount. He took two steps forward before he bowed low to Mariah, worn gray cloak swirling around him.
“Welcome,” the man said in a warm, accented voice, “to Eyarfell.”