Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Loren strode across the clearing, not bothering to wait for Kai as the human mage scrambled to keep up. The shadows lashed his legs, their hissed admonishments echoing in his ears.
He should have done more. Should have protected her.
He didn’t pause as he passed the others, gathered in a tight knot around the cook fire.
Conversation faltered as he stormed by, but Loren didn’t slow.
All he could hear were the shadows, their litany of accusations beating against his mind like a relentless drum as he stormed through the trees, camp falling away behind them.
He’d let that human touch her. Let him hurt her—
Loren stopped, whirling so suddenly that Kai nearly walked right into him. “Did you know?” he demanded.
Kai’s throat worked, his gaze flicking from Loren to the writhing at his back. They were all alone out here—Loren could kill him faster than anyone could get here to help. “I knew it was a possibility,” he said carefully. “Araya and I talked about the risks.”
“You should have talked to me about it,” Loren spat.
“Why?” Kai asked. “So you could overrule her?” He crossed his arms, standing his ground even as the shadows writhed and spat, stirring the leaf litter into a storm around Loren’s feet. “It was her decision. She’s the one who had to endure it. And she’s the one who has to live with it now.”
“And whose fault is that?” Loren demanded. “If you hadn’t held her down and taken away her autonomy—”
“I’m pretty sure it’s Jaxon Shaw’s fault,” a dry voice cut in. “Or his father’s, maybe. Certainly no one here.”
Loren’s shadows hissed, recoiling as Finn stepped between them, his footsteps crunching through the thick layer of fallen leaves. The other male cast a disinterested glance at them, cocking an eyebrow at Loren.
“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on here?” he asked. “Or do I need to go find Serafina?”
“No,” Loren ground out. “We need to talk. The three of us—no one else.” He glared at Kai. “Tell him what happened.”
Kai scowled right back at him. “Araya asked me to evaluate her runes to see if I could remove the sor’vael,” he said. “But it’s been on her for too long. When I touched it, it lashed out. Defended itself. At her expense.”
Finn’s eyes widened. “Is she alright?”
“She’s with Serafina,” Loren said, his voice low.
He could still hear the crack of her teeth snapping shut, trapping her scream in her throat as her body arched in his arms, every muscle locking at once.
“If Jaxon Shaw is tracking her, the best thing we can do is get her as far away from him as possible—”
“But we already knew the Arcanum was tracking her,” Finn interrupted gently. “We’ve been safe here so far because they haven’t been willing to risk coming into the forest after her. If you take her back to Aetheris she loses that protection.”
“I don’t want to take her to Aetheris,” Loren bit out. How could they not understand why this was so important? “I want to make a plan to get her back to Eluneth.”
Finn studied Loren for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Back to Eluneth,” he repeated slowly. “All the way across the Shadowed Sea.”
“Yes,” Loren said. “She’ll be safer there.”
“And you?” Finn asked.
“I have to stay,” Loren answered. He’d started something in Farhallow.
The fae there needed all the help they could get, and he had a duty to see it through.
But Araya—she’d sacrificed enough. She deserved to be safe.
Eluneth might not have the Shadowed Veil protecting it anymore, but Eloria would protect his mate with her life.
Jaxon Shaw wouldn’t get to her again. Not there.
Finn raised his eyebrows. “And is Araya in agreement with your plan?”
“I haven’t told her yet.” He would—as soon as she was strong enough. Not yet.
“I see.” Finn blew out a long breath. “Look, she’s your mate, Loren. But if I tried to send Serafina away while I stayed to fight? She’d gut me like a fish and sew me back together so she could tell me what an idiot I was.”
Loren’s shadows rippled, muttering something he didn’t quite catch. Loren ignored them. He’d been over it again and again in his head, lying awake with her broken body cradled in his arms. This was the only way to keep her safe. Araya would understand—eventually.
A sharp crack split the quiet, making all three of them jump. Finn’s hand dropped to his sword, his eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement.
“Just an animal,” Kai said after a moment.
“Maybe,” Finn murmured. He stared into the trees, his brow furrowed. “Don’t you think it’s odd that we’ve been here for over a week and haven’t seen any more signs of the wild magic here?”
Loren frowned. “Maybe it realized we aren’t the enemy here.” Or maybe they weren’t as safe here as everyone seemed to think they were.
“I don’t know,” Finn glanced away, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. “We should get back to camp,” he said. “If you’re serious about marching back to Aetheris, there are things we’ll need to prepare.”
Loren stopped by the cook fire first, filling a bowl with a generous helping of thick porridge studded with the berries Brynn and Naeva had gathered that morning.
“It’s good that she’s hungry,” Caela said, glancing up from where she was mending a strap on one of the packs. “How is she feeling?”
“Better,” Loren said. “You know—it takes time.”
Caela nodded knowingly. “Physically and mentally,” she said, her expression softening. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”
“I will,” Loren said.
He nodded to the others, the hum of conversation already rising again behind him as he cut across the clearing. The cottage door loomed in front of him, somehow almost as intimidating as the door to his cell had been. Finn was right. Araya would be angry—at first. But she’d understand eventually.
She had to.
Serafina sat by the hearth, her sleeves rolled up to the elbow and a bucket of washing clamped between her feet. But Araya—
Loren’s heart lurched. Araya was nowhere.
“She’s just sleeping, Loren.” Serafina said without looking up from her task. “It was an exhausting morning.”
Of course. Loren set the bowl down on the table, his hands shaking. He knew that—could feel her through the bond once he took a breath and focused. She was resting peacefully, her breathing soft and even. Goddess only knew, she needed it.
It broke his heart that she couldn’t feel that anymore. That she couldn’t just know he was doing the best he could to protect her—even if he had failed before.
“I brought her something to eat,” he said. “Did you give her something to help her rest?”
Serafina’s hands stopped moving. “No. She’s repeatedly declined sedatives. I would never drug her against her will.”
“That’s not what I—” Loren trailed off, his gaze catching on the rigid line of Serafina’s shoulders. “Is something wrong?”
Serafina wrung out the linen and laid it over the edge of the bucket. “I suggested she start joining the others in the mornings,” she said. “She needs to rebuild her stamina—and stretching will help preserve mobility in her back.”
Loren frowned. “I’m not sure—”
“She didn’t want to do it because she’s afraid you’ll tell her no.” Serafina twisted another strip of linen, wringing it out with more force than necessary. “But it’s important, Loren. For her physical and emotional recovery. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t discourage her.”
“I’m not trying to discourage her,” Loren protested. “I just don’t want her to push herself too hard. If she injures herself again—”
“She won’t,” Serafina said firmly. “This will be good for her.”
“I’m not sure why you think I would have a problem with it then.” Loren crossed his arms, shoving down the bitter guilt that threatened to rise up. “All I want is to keep her safe.”
“Has it occurred to you that she doesn’t need a protector?” Serafina asked.
Loren scowled. “Considering she was tortured and nearly whipped to death, I think she does,” he retorted. “I’m going to check on her.”
He left Serafina behind, pretending not to hear her deep sigh as he shoved through the curtain they had hung across the door to the back room.
It must have been some sort of storeroom once—but the roof was sound and it had been easy enough to clean out, even if it did still smell faintly musty underneath the sharp, medicinal scent of the poultices Serafina had made for Araya’s back.
More importantly, it was dry and warm, with enough space for them to lay their bedrolls side by side.
Something in Loren’s chest unclenched at the sight of her lying there, stretched out on her stomach with one arm tucked under the thin pillow.
The blanket had fallen down around her hips, exposing the tapestry of scars that crisscrossed her back, each one another blow he’d failed to shield her from.
But she was healing, Loren reminded himself. She was here. Safe. And if Serafina thought it would help her to spend time with the others she was probably right.
He unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it over his head and leaving it in a pile by the door with his boots. The shadows spread out around them both, settling into their accustomed places as Loren slipped under the blanket, wrapping his arms around her.
Araya exhaled softly, her body shifting toward him.
Her back pressed against his chest, his aether rising eagerly to the call of her magic.
This morning’s reckless experiment had drained her of strength she didn’t have to spare, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
All he could do was offer up his own power to replace what she had lost.
Which he would do gladly, any time she needed it.
Loren pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, breathing in her rain-soaked earth and wildflower scent.
She didn’t need to tear herself apart to carve the sor’vael runes from her soul.
Even with their bond muted, she was still his and he was hers.
And no matter what it cost him, Loren would never let Jaxon Shaw hurt her again.