Chapter 12
Evangeline
Silent tears roll down my cheeks when I realize my nightmare didn’t go away after waking up.
I’m cold, my body hurts because this is the most uncomfortable cot I’ve ever had the displeasure of lying upon, and I can’t shake the feeling I’ve made a huge mistake.
Part of me knows I’m being a brat, complaining about a fucking cot when they are in the middle of a war with little to no food.
I’m throwing myself a pity party while I determine if I made a mistake or not.
Not that it matters, I suppose. I’m stuck and can’t leave. I need to get used to this world sooner rather than later because I’m in the thick of it. I’m a survivor. Had to be ever since I lost both my parents. It was me versus the world, and that hasn’t changed. I need to change. Adapt.
Something tickles my cheek, like a fly, and I go to swipe it away until I hear a shriek. “Do you mind?” someone hisses. So, definitely not a fly. Unless their flies talk here, which, honestly, they might.
I crack one eye open to see Finnick standing on the tip of my nose, hands on his hips. He’s so adorable, even upset, but I’m not certain that’s appropriate to say. Instead, I offer him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to…everything.”
Finnick’s frown melts into understanding, like he’s personally experienced being dropped into another world. “It’s fine. I just wanted to let you know we’re leaving. You’ll love the castle. I promise it’s more comfortable than”—he gestures around—“this.”
I push myself off the bed. “I’m not eighteen anymore,” I groan, hearing my bones crack with my movements.
By the sounds of it, you’d think I’m ninety-eight and not a relatively healthy thirty-year-old.
One scan around the room shows me I’m alone; both of my companions and their cot have disappeared.
Packed up, no doubt. How long have they been awake?
“Zephyr and Niko are tending to the horses. They didn’t want to wake you up,” Finnick says.
“We don’t have much for breakfast. Unless you like berries.
” He grins, and then from seemingly nowhere, he produces purple and red berries that look much more palatable than the dry, hardened bread from last night.
My stomach growls, giving away how hungry I am.
I would like more than a handful of berries to sate my appetite, but this will have to do.
“They aren’t poisonous, are they? I don’t think I’ve seen these type of berries before.” I don’t think Finnick would poison me, but you can never be too certain about these things.
“Dunno. Don’t think so.” His words don’t fill me with much confidence, but I watch as he stuffs a half a berry into his mouth, his little cheeks fattening up as he chews. “Taste good, though,” he mumbles around the food, some of the juices dripping down his chin.
Despite my mood, I smile, pluck a berry from his palm, and pop it into my mouth. Sweet juice explodes on my tongue, and it’s like nothing I’ve tasted before. “What are these?” I groan and take the second berry he offers.
“Good, right? They’re called winterberries.” He grins, but a moment later, his smile fades. “These are the only good ones I’ve found. Most have already rotten. Just like everything else here.”
“All your food is rotting?” I ask, brow furrowed as I take in his words.
Before Finnick has time to answer, there’s a crunching sound outside—like boots on hard grass—before the tent flaps open.
Black hair and skin the color of midnight fill my vision.
Guarded eyes meet mine, quickly running over my body as if assessing me.
It’s not remotely sexual, and yet my face flushes. If Zephyr notices, he doesn’t comment.
“You’re up. We’re leaving,” he says briskly. His gaze lingers on me a moment longer before he disappears as quickly as he arrived, leaving disappointment in his wake.
I can’t read Zephyr. He saved me but has been standoffish ever since, almost like he regrets it.
I don’t think he knew who he was saving, but I watched his face when he realized.
A mixture of surprise and confusion gave way to something like repulsion.
Does he regret saving me? Niko said the fae were polyamorous, but Zephyr is cold and distant.
He doesn’t seem to subscribe to the same school of thought, and maybe to him, I’m here to steal his man.
Damn, I hope he doesn’t think that. I didn’t know they were already married until after the contract was signed! The Guardian didn’t tell me. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, and I would have declined if I knew this would be the welcome I received.
“We better go before Mr. Friendly comes back.” Finnick offers me a hand.
I offer him my pinkie, and he wraps his fingers around it in his attempt to help me up. I don’t have the heart to tell him it did nothing, but I thank him regardless once I’m standing. That was the right choice, since he beams at me like he just performed a monumental task.
“Should I pack up the cot?” I don’t see where Zephyr or Niko put theirs, but it feels wrong to leave it behind.
Finnick just shakes his head. “No. Someone will take care of it.”
“Right, okay.” With nothing of mine left behind, I move to leave the tent, but stop short of the flaps, causing Finnick to fly into my back. “Sorry! I, uh, just wanted to ask about my suitcase? You mentioned someone would be bringing it.”
The man rubs his nose, red from the impact. “We found your things, and they will be taken to the castle.”
“Oh. Good. Sorry again,” I mumble and hurry out.
Yesterday, the area was full of tents, all smaller than the one Niko and Zephyr brought me to, but only a few remain, which feels odd.
“We’re pulling some of our people, leaving the ones in best health to guard these lands and send word if there’s another attack,” Finnick explains my unasked question.
I see Lady Thalia off in the distance, directing people holding stretchers on where to place the injured.
I see a man on a stretcher with his leg bent at an unnatural angle and blood coating the right side of his face.
He’s pale, almost blue, and mumbling incoherently under his breath.
I quickly look away, stomach churning at the sight of the wounded.
“Evangeline,” a deep masculine voice calls out.
My head snaps to attention just in time to see a flash of red hair.
Niko approaches me, a warm smile on his face, a stark contrast from Zephyr earlier.
He stops a few paces in front of me, and I have to tilt my head up to look at him.
This man is tall. Not just a few inches taller than me.
No, he stands at least a foot above me. It should be intimidating, but Niko’s kind smile puts me at ease in a way no other man has before.
“You’re awake. How did you sleep?”
“Oh, uhm, fine.” It’s a lie, and a bad one at that.
If Niko notices, he doesn’t comment. “You’ll be riding with me. Have you ever ridden a horse before? You do have those back in your world, right? I think I remember reading something about humans having horse companions.”
“We do, but I’ve only ridden one once.” And I doubt that will even count. It was at a school carnival, and it was a pony. My mom had her hand on my back the entire time as he slowly walked in circles. I’m fairly certain a turtle could have lapped us.
“That’s okay. I’ll take the reins. You’ll just need to hold on,” Niko assures and gestures for me to follow him.
That I can do.
Still feeling my muscles protest with each step, I follow Niko to where Zephyr stands holding the reins to two large horses, both with raven-black coats.
The only difference is one has a white patch on their underbelly.
Niko takes the reins from Zephyr, and the two share a look that feels too inappropriate for public.
Embarrassment colors my features as I try to look away, giving them some semblance of privacy, even though they are the ones eye-fucking in public.
I’m not the only one who is uncomfortable because, next to me, Finnick pretends to throw up. He then flies between them, pushing Niko and Zephyr away from each other by their foreheads. “Let’s go. No one wants to see the two of you in love. It’s gross and offensive.”
Niko barks out a laugh. “One day, Brother, you’ll find your mate. And I cannot wait to give you shit about it.”
Finnick’s very mature response is to stick his tongue out and fly to the top of one of the horse’s heads and sit cross-legged.
Zephyr actually cracks a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
It makes him look younger, more handsome than the sour expression he seems to don around me. “The princeling has spoken.”
“The princeling has spoken,” Finnick copies in a high-pitched voice, glaring at him. “Let’s go!”
Niko chuckles and then holds out his hand to me. “I’ll help you mount.”
I’m not exactly short, but I may as well be an ant compared to the horse.
He expects me to climb up on that? There’s no step stool in sight, and even though I have decent arm strength, I don’t think it’s good enough to heave myself onto a horse.
Plus, I don’t want to be kicked off or stampeded over.
Clearly seeing the hesitation in my face, Niko gently reaches for my hand. I jump but let him pull me closer, easing my nerves. “I have you, Evangeline. Let me help you.” He moves me in front of him.
The warmth of his body hovers over me as he drops his hands to my hips. I let out an embarrassing squeak before being lifted effortlessly.
“Get your leg over the horse,” Niko orders, and I do as I’m told. It’s not my most graceful move, but I manage to shimmy my body onto the saddle and grin triumphantly like I’ve just overcome a challenging obstacle.
Hell yeah, I got on a damn horse!