Chapter 45
The journey to Tyria’s stronghold should’ve taken a full day on foot from the village where we’d been staying. But by cutting through the forest, steering clear of the main roads, and skipping both small talk and rest breaks, Shayde and I reached the grounds with hours to spare before sunset.
Changing was still on our list—trekking through half-frozen woods in formal attire would’ve been a terrible idea. We also needed a place to stash our satchels and weapons, because something told me Tyria wouldn’t welcome guests to its masquerade armed to the teeth.
Our plan was to scout the perimeter first, then figure out where to hide the gear. The sun finally shone for the first time since we’d arrived. Slivers of light cut through the branches overhead, warming my skin in fleeting bursts. The snow was giving way at last, melting back into the earth.
I was reaching for my canteen when Shayde turned to me, hand outstretched. He stood balanced on a fallen tree trunk, waiting. With a reluctant sigh, I placed my hand in his, and he hauled me up beside him.
“Look,” he said, nodding ahead.
My eyes widened.
Tyria’s stronghold looked almost identical to Mageia War College.
A tall, imposing wall of dark stone and iron barred the way, its spiked top designed for more than show.
To the west, a matching iron gate stood locked and guarded.
If my calculations were right, we were positioned at the northeastern edge—what looked like the back corner of the castle.
The structure rose over six stories high, with circular turrets anchoring each outer point like silent sentinels. Troops paced along the parapets above. Shayde and I ducked behind a wide oak, hidden from view.
The only thing missing to make this place Mageia’s twin was the sight of dragons soaring overhead. Come to think of it… we hadn’t seen a single dragon since we arrived.
Thinking of those magical beasts sparked an idea.
I turned away and stepped deeper into the forest, closing my eyes as I reached for my earth element. Shayde’s footsteps followed, but he didn’t speak.
Nature hummed around me, alive in every breath of wind and crunch of snow. I opened my hands, letting the breeze slip between my fingers. When the connection stirred beneath my skin, I ran—drawn by instinct alone.
Shayde followed without question as we crossed a frozen stream, wove between trees, and descended the snow-covered slope.
At the bottom, a wide foundation of rock rose before us, and tucked in its shadow was the mouth of a cave.
Waiting at the entrance stood a pack of three white wolves—just slightly smaller than River.
My heart ricocheted in my chest. This was the longest we’d ever been apart, and I missed that moody wolf more than I cared to admit.
“Fallon, what are you doing?” Shayde whisper-yelled, stepping in front of me with his hands raised in a show of peace as the wolves approached.
I brushed past him, eyes locked on the one front and center—the alpha.
Raising my hand, palm up, I stepped toward him.
I could feel his apprehension—a quiet tension rippling through my earth element as he weighed our presence, questioning why we’d come to their home.
His silver eyes locked onto mine, testing my intentions.
I stood steady, palm outstretched in a silent offer of peace, letting the alpha judge me for himself.
Behind him, the female’s tail gave a curious wag, while the other male slipped back into the cave’s shadows. A gentle warmth bloomed in my chest—a quiet confirmation that we’d been accepted.
Then the alpha stepped forward, tilted his head, and pressed his muzzle into my palm—a gesture that, if he were human, might’ve passed for a handshake.
“Hi,” I said softly, using the tone I reserved only for animals. “I’m Fallon. And this is…” I hesitated. “My partner—Wylder.”
Shayde scoffed behind me, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“We need a favor,” I continued, keeping my gaze on the alpha. “Would you mind if we stored our belongings in your cave for the evening? We need to leave them somewhere safe—away from human predators.”
The alpha closed his eyes in response, then turned and jogged toward the cave, glancing over his shoulder in silent invitation.
Shayde and I followed into the cool darkness. He led us deeper until the tunnel opened into a wider chamber. There, we slipped off our satchels and began unsheathing our weapons.
“We also need to change for the night. Is that okay?” My voice echoed.
Without hesitation, the alpha turned and scurried back toward the entrance, leaving us quiet privacy.
When I turned, Shayde was watching me—his face half lost to shadow, expression unreadable. It looked like he was about to say something, but no words came. I dropped my gaze and dug into my satchel, breaking the strange silence before it could turn into something else.
We dressed in a shared quiet, packing our leathers back into our satchels and keeping our winter cloaks out for the walk ahead.
I shifted in the tight dress Scarlet had packed for me—tighter than any leathers I’d ever worn.
The hem brushed the tops of my feet, a clear reminder to slip on the shoes she’d included as well.
I held the heels up, turning them in all directions as I tried to make sense of the endless straps, but it was too dark inside the cave. With a sigh, I gave up and walked out barefoot, cloak draped over one arm and shoes in hand.
Once I stepped into better light, I looked down at myself.
The dress was solid black, fitted throughout.
I had no clue what the fabric was—it definitely wasn’t silk—but it was thick enough to hold its shape and emphasize every curve.
A single slit ran up the front to my mid-thigh, and the straps were about as thin as noodles at dinnertime.
Cool air skimmed my back, most of it bare thanks to the plunging cut.
The neckline was straight across my chest but dipped into a narrow V at the center, framing the curves of my breasts.
I laid my cloak over a wide boulder and sat to wrestle with the heels again. I thought I finally had them figured out when Shayde’s voice made me jump.
“Out of everything in this world you can do—heels have you stumped?”
The urge to snap at him bubbled up—then vanished when I looked up and saw him kneel before me.
Shayde Wylder, on one knee, holding the second heel.
He wore a midnight-black suit, the same shade as my dress, with a deep purple shirt beneath the jacket. His tie matched perfectly—dark-violet silk that made the entire outfit impossibly sleek. The collar framed his neck just right, high enough to hide the tungsten choker beneath it.
The man looked like a shadow kissed by moonlight—and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
I forgot that I hated him.
Out of the corner of my eye, the wolves watched us silently as Shayde took my left foot and rested it on his thigh. He slipped the heel on with practiced ease, then laced the straps around my ankle with surprising care. I didn’t protest when he shifted and did the same with my right.
Then he stood, extending a hand to help me up. It felt natural to place my hand in his. His grip was strong, unyielding, and when he hauled me to my feet, our eyes caught.
And held.
I cleared my throat, breaking the moment, and turned to grab my cloak. Before slipping it on, I undid my braid and ran my fingers through my hair, letting loose waves tumble over my shoulders and down my back. With one more glance at the wolves, I offered a quiet thanks.
Then Shayde and I started toward the party that very well might kill us.