Chapter 4
SAPHIRA
This was the fourth mountain we had climbed in the last two days and it was getting harder to hold on to hope that we would find what we were looking for at the top of it—a sign of civilisation.
My paws scrabbled on the loose rock and shale as we ascended a particularly brutal stretch of the climb, Morden’s large black wolf leading the way.
I kept my eyes on him and away from the steep drop to the treeline below.
I wanted to shift back to my human form and tell Morden this was surely far enough, but the air was frigid this high up the mountain and the thought of freezing my bare backside off was enough to keep me in my wolf form.
Last night, we had camped close to the base of the mountain, and Morden had gone hunting, and returned a lot quicker than I had expected and without anything for me to cook over the fire I had managed to get going despite how damp the wood had been.
He had apparently run into a cougar, and that had been enough to make us move camp.
But that plus the beaver signs and Steller’s jays I had spotted during the daylight hours had been enough to give me hope we really were in Canada.
Or at the very least North America.
Ahead of me, Morden slowed to a halt on a large flat rock that jutted out of the mountain, his side to me, the wind dancing across his thick black fur.
I wasn’t sure I would ever see another wolf as large as Morden.
He made me feel tiny as I came up beside him and took in the stunning view that stretched for miles before me. His silvery gaze scanned the valleys, intent and focused, and I wondered if this was how Kaeleron would have looked had he been born a wolf shifter rather than an unseelie fae.
Morden looked at me and shook his head.
I looked at the valleys too, peering hard at them, trying to spot even the smallest road or a logging track.
But there was no trace of civilisation.
There was, however, a river.
It glistened as sunlight bounced off it, glinting like diamonds and luring my gaze to it.
And where there was a river, there was a road to humans. Many of the settlements in the area had been made close to rivers. It was our best shot at finding our way home, anyway, so I pointed my muzzle towards it, directing Morden’s attention there.
He nodded and turned, body brushing against mine.
It wasn’t the first time he had done that, and I wasn’t talking about in the last few days.
Sometimes when we had run together as wolves back at the pack, he had stuck so close to me that his fur had touched mine, keeping me constantly aware of him.
As if I needed to know he was there so I would feel safe or protected.
It had started after we had all run to the lake one winter—me, Morden, Chase and Everlee—and Chase had fallen through the ice.
I had panicked so hard, had been so distraught as we tried to find a sign of my cousin that I had been bordering on useless, and Morden had fallen in with me, constantly reassuring me everything would be fine as he used his senses to find Chase and we managed to free him from the ice before he drowned.
Since then, Morden had stuck close to me whenever we had been away from the pack.
As if I was still that panicking young female, afraid and sure something terrible was about to happen.
When I wasn’t.
I turned away from the view and Morden and began down the treacherous path to the forest, taking the lead.
Morden remained close to my heels and I could sense his irritation that he couldn’t pass me and lead the way, that he couldn’t be first into danger should we encounter an animal along the route to the trees.
I wasn’t sure how to make him see that I didn’t need his constant protection.
That I could protect myself now.
As I navigated the steep terrain, my thoughts tried to shift to Kaeleron, the fae king invading my mind even as I tried to keep my focus on not sliding down the shale or tumbling over a cliff to the trees below. Was he safe?
I told myself that he was.
He was safe.
Jenavyr, Riordan and Malachi would be with him in the Forgotten Wastes, and maybe Oberon might come to help, or one of the other unseelie courts.
He was strong.
Powerful.
Even with the residual magic in the sand dampening his powers, he had torn that lich apart. If he could defeat such a gruesome, powerful enemy with relative ease, he could handle a few seelie.
I hoped.
I sent a little prayer to my ancestors anyway, asking them to keep watch over him, as we reached the last stretch of rock and dirt and traversed it down into the waiting shade of the trees.
The shadowy gloom wrapped around me, strangely comforting, and I shook off that feeling, sure it was just my imagination, my need to feel some connection with Kaeleron, even if it wasn’t real.
When the ground levelled out, I dropped my bundle of clothes and shifted back, quickly tugging on my leathers and navy blouse, and shoving my chilly feet into my boots.
Morden kept his back to me the whole time as I dressed and then he shifted, and I tried not to look but my gaze caught on the scars that criss-crossed his back, stretching over powerful muscles and slicing through his tanned skin.
Scars he hated anyone seeing but showed me without hesitation.
Because I knew who had given them to him, and I had done my damnedest to make him see that what his father had done to him had been wrong, and that he had no reason to feel guilty about them.
If anyone should feel guilty, it was his father.
The bastard should have been put down long before Lucas’s father had killed him.
He should have been removed from his position the moment he had raised a hand to strike his own son in some sick attempt to make him stronger, to beat all softer emotions out of him.
The victim of such abuse should never be the one to feel guilty or responsible.
He pulled his dark checked flannel shirt on, buttoning it as he turned towards me, his handsome face tight as he looked at me.
He was waiting for me to say something about them, that flicker of shame in his eyes relaying his thoughts to me.
Instead of mentioning it, I strapped my dagger to my waist and said, “That river is probably at least a day’s run from here. Maybe we should make camp and rest up and then head out at first light.”
He nodded and tugged his boots on, laced them and then straightened. He checked his phone again, his grim look telling me that he still had no signal.
“Battery is getting low.” He turned it off and pocketed it again. “Maybe we should split the difference. Trek a little way towards the river and make camp when we find a quiet spot.”
“What? You don’t like cougars and bears for company? They’re not all animals, you know?” I smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood, and the corners of his lips shifted.
“You ever met a cougar or bear you like?” He strode past me, his voice deadly serious as he added, “I hooked up with a cougar once, when I was away from the pack. Crazy little thing. Skittish. Damned moody. As soon as she scratched her itches, she was kicking me out the door. Made me miss pack life.”
“Enough that you came back.” I remembered those long months where he had simply disappeared on us, leaving his sister alone at the pack, and us without a protector, all because he had wanted to be done with us.
We had been so angry with him when he had finally come back, until he had quietly admitted that he had realised he actually wanted to protect the pack, and not because it was tradition for his family.
He wanted to protect us because we were his friends.
His true family.
He shrugged broad shoulders and trudged onwards, picking a trail through the pines that took us in the direction of the river I had spotted.
“Morden?” I whispered and he slowed and looked over his shoulder at me. I hesitated as our gazes clashed and then pushed the words out. “Thank you for coming for me.”
He almost smiled. “Even if you didn’t need rescuing?”
I hiked my shoulders this time. “I missed you all.”
He paused and turned to face me, his look grave as his eyes searched mine. “Do you miss him?”
That question caught me off guard, cranking something within me tight—something that knew he would be gruff and moody if I spoke the truth.
But my heart still answered, “Yes.”
He shrugged it off, but his eyes were a little darker, his posture a little stiffer as he began walking with me again.
And his silence grated at me.
It wasn’t wrong of me to miss Kaeleron.
It wasn’t.
And I wouldn’t be made to feel it was.
We walked in silence until the light began to fade and we found a clearing with a view of a sky painted with fingers of gold and pink.
I began gathering firewood and Morden barely spared me a glance before he stripped off and shifted, and disappeared into the shadowy woods.
It was almost dark by the time he returned, the stars faint but growing stronger, almost as bright as the sparks of gold that danced upwards into the night from the fire crackling before me.
I remained where I was, sitting on one of the logs I had hauled into the clearing, my eyes on the fire and mind on Kaeleron and those wolves he had made with magic that night in the cave.
When we had made love.
I had never felt a connection to anyone as strong as the one I had felt to him in that moment. Not even to Lucas.
Dressed again, Morden sank down onto the larger log opposite me and dumped two rabbits onto the thin grass beside him.
“I was thinking about what we can do.” I prodded the fire with a stick, sending another shower of sparks leaping into the air and making the light flicker across his stern features.
Apparently, his mood hadn’t improved during the hunt.
“What about the Ryland Pack? They’re old allies of our pack. They might help us.”
Morden glowered at the flames. “We’re wasting time if we head there. At the very least, we should check on our pack first.”