by Cameo Renae
When I handed the empty vessel to Kylan, he cocked his head to the side and grinned. “I’m impressed.”
The looks from Brone, Andrés, and Feng also said they were equally impressed.
I smiled but didn’t say a word. It took everything inside me to resist the overwhelming power of the blood flooding through my veins. But my willpower held steady. And I knew it stemmed from one thing. Humiliation. The thought of making a complete ass of myself in front of the others like I did with Kylan. But it did prove that I was stronger than the thirst.
We proceeded at a consistent pace, remaining in the darkest parts of the forest. But when the sun finally began to set, we were still deep within the Whisper Woods. I had no idea where we were, or how long we’d traveled, but it had to have been miles. We could have continued, but we had a mortal in our midst who looked like she was about to collapse at any given moment.
“We’ll stop here for the night,” Kylan said, pointing toward a small clearing between a few trees. The area inside the trees was about ten feet wide, so it would be tight.
Melaina drank some water before she began her wards and spells to cloak the area. After a few moments, Brone and Andrés stepped inside and disappeared.
“Kylan,” Feng said, kneeling about ten yards away from the ward. We headed toward him.
On the ground was a massive paw print, larger than the size of my head. From the impression, it had long claws that sunk deep into the earth.
“What is it?” I breathed, my eyes scouring the area.
“There are beasts in these woods,” Kylan replied.
“Shadow Hounds,” Brone added, stepping out of the ward. “Dark beasts with eyes of fire that can shred a man in seconds.”
My body shuddered. “How do you know this?”
Brone’s fingers scraped against his scars, and it became evident. They weren’t from battle, as I’d first thought. They were from a Shadow Hound.
A loud howl, which sounded miles away, shot a shiver up my spine.
Brone patted my back. “You should go inside the ward before the sun sets.”
I didn’t argue. But I did want to know how he ran into such a beast and survived. I suppose I’d have to wait for another time to hear that tale . . . if he wanted to share it.
Inside the ward, our sleeping situation was tight, but it was the only place in the forest nearby that had any kind of space. Melaina insisted on sleeping on one edge of the ward, declaring she was claustrophobic and couldn’t sleep in between anyone. I took the spot next to her, with Brone on my other side and Feng next to him. Kylan took the narrow space above us, stretching out against the stump of a tree, while Andrés chose to lay horizontally at our feet.
“Brone, don’t roll in your sleep tonight,” Feng nearly pleaded. “I would like to live through the night, and I think Calla would too.”
“If I do roll,” Brone said in his rich baritone voice, “It won’t be in Calla’s direction.” His eyes swept to mine, offering me a wink.
“Thanks,” I said, returning a smile.
Brone rested his large hand on my shoulder. “It’s compensation for not accepting the witch’s stew and retching all night.”
“Ah—” I exhaled. “So, I guess this makes us even.”
“It does. And because Feng has offered me nothing, if I do roll, it will be that way.” He thumbed toward Feng.
“Oh, but I do have something to offer,” Feng replied, drawing his blade and his carving block from his pack. The chunk of wood was starting to take shape. I could make out a head . . . maybe the head of a dragon? I still wasn’t sure. It could have been a dog, for all I knew.
“You would give me one of your carvings?” Brone asked, his eyes wide.
“No,” Feng replied. “If you roll in my direction, I will offer this blade to your side.”
There was a moment of silence before Brone burst into laughter. Feng and Andrés joined him, and even Kylan couldn’t help but smile.
As everyone settled down, Brone slipped off his right boot. Andrés popped up and started gagging, his eyes watering. “For the love of the gods, put your boots on. You’ll kill us in our sleep.”
Brone lifted his foot across his knee, then leaned over and sniffed his foot. His face scrunched. “I suppose it’s not pleasant,” he exhaled, then pulled his boot back on.
“When we reach Havendale, we can all take a bath,” Kylan said.
I stretched my arms over my head. “How much longer before we make it there?”
“If we move fast, a day or two,” he responded.
“Two days?” Melaina moaned, rubbing her back. “If that’s the case, I might be willing to let Brone carry me.”
Brone glanced over to me, his eyes wide. “The offer stands as long as we are on this mission.”
Melaina nodded without any expression on her face, then rolled over to her side, away from us. I smiled at Brone, who returned a playful grin. I sensed that maybe he was fond of the witch who stood up to him. The one he claimed was his match.
“It’s hot in here,” Brone grumbled a few hours later. And he was right. The air in the ward was stagnant and stifled. There were too many bodies packed together.
“It is hot . . . and sticky,” Andrés added, kicking off his blanket.
Melaina growled under her breath and sat up. She closed her eyes and thrust her arms upward. An ice-cold gust swept into the ward and whirled around us, ripping Feng and Brone’s blankets off. Brone turned to me with the biggest smile I’d seen on him yet.
Melaina dropped her arms and plunked back down on her satchel, the breeze still blowing.
“Better?” she snipped.
“Much,” Brone replied, inhaling the cool air. “Thanks.”
A faint growl came from Melaina. “Good. Now let me sleep.”
In no time, with the remaining cool air, we all fell fast asleep.
I gazed up at a sky of starlight, the breeze whipping through my hair. I inhaled the refreshing breeze and caught a familiar scent—that perfect blend of earth and wind and spice.
“I’m dreaming again, aren’t I?” I murmured.
“Yes,” was the response.
I swung around to see Trystan leaning against the bow of a ship, arms crossed over his muscular chest, his hair tousled by the wind. I was lost, trapped in that tug of war happening within myself whenever he seemed to be around . . . even in my dreams.
“Where are we?”
“On my ship, heading to Baelfast. I’ll be meeting with Lord Huxley tomorrow in hopes to discover information on your father and Nicolae.”
“My father is alive,” I said, stepping toward him. “Melaina found him using a location spell. He’s scared and is running for his life, somewhere in the Whisper Woods.” I couldn’t hold back the emotions that spilled down my face.
In a flash, Trystan was in front of me. “Don’t cry,” he sighed, his thumbs wiping my tears.
Overwhelmed, I folded my arms around his neck and buried my face into his chest. His steely arms wrapped around me, his cheek pressing against the top of my head. I felt so comfortable in his arms. Like it was the one place I was secure. “Don’t worry, Calla. We’ll find your father,” he whispered.
His soft promise entered my ear and traveled to my soul. They were genuine, and although I didn’t understand why, deep down, I knew I could trust him. I had no reason to doubt.
“I’m glad you trust me,” Trystan breathed. “And my arms will always be accessible to you, should you ever need a place to feel secure.”
I pulled back, looking deep into those beautiful azure eyes. My cheeks flushed with heat. He’d read my mind.
The blood bond.
“Don’t ever feel embarrassed around me,” he added, taking a step backward. “This blood bond is new for me too. I don’t understand everything about it, but I cannot doubt the emotions pulling inside me. Believe me, I’ve tried to resist them because I won’t push you to make a decision you aren’t ready to make.”
&nb
sp; “Thank you.” I was truly blessed that fate led him to me.
I turned my attention toward the sea, not able to look him in the eyes. Because every time I did, I felt myself falling for him. “Maybe one day, when things settle down, we’ll get to know each other better . . . more intimately,” I murmured.
Trystan stood next to me, setting his hand over mine. “I made a decision to claim you, Calla. And I will continue to wait until you decide whether you want to seal the bond.”
I grinned, watching the darkened sea ahead. The breeze was steady, causing the ship to sail steadily through the water.
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you for sending your cadre. I genuinely like them,” I said, trying to break the silence.
He gave a side-eyed glance. “I’m glad. Are they treating you well?”
I nodded. “They are. They’re exceptionally nice. Especially Brone.”
Trystan turned to me with a narrowed glance. “Brone?”
“Yes, Brone. He’s like a gigantic stuffed bear. He looks a bit rough on the surface, but inside, he’s soft and sweet.”
Trystan laughed. “Are you certain we’re speaking about the same Brone?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Well, Brone has never been nice. Or soft. Or sweet, for that matter. Especially to anyone outside of the cadre. And anytime he’s around women, he stiffens and turns into a mute.”
This was news to me. “Well, he’s been nothing but a gentleman. He even told me to come to him if any of the others act up. I also think he has a thing for the witch, Melaina. Their banter is quite amusing.”
“Is it?” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Please don’t tell him I told you,” I said, twisting back to him. “He’d never forgive me.”
Trystan held up his hands. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He shook his head again. “I can’t believe that big old brute,” Trystan whispered to himself.
“I’m actually sleeping next to that big old brute right now.”
His smile immediately fled, and his brow crumpled. “You’re what?”
I was about to laugh at his expression, when an intense pain in my gut had me folding over, gasping for air. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
I clutched Trystan’s arms. “Help,” I bellowed.
His eyes flew wide with panic. “Calla, what’s wrong?” His strong arms drew me against him, holding me tight.
A mighty wind ripped around us, tearing me out of his grasp. It was immensely strong. So strong, our grips slipped.
“Trystan!” I wailed, right before I was sucked into the darkness.
My eyes jerked open, and I found myself lying on my back amid chaos. The ward was breached. Countless men in black had surrounded us, battling with Trystan’s cadre. Melaina was screaming, being dragged by her leg into the forest.
Jumping to my feet, I snatched my pack and flung it on my back as Kylan yanked my arm, shoving me behind him, pinning me up against a tree.
“Stay here,” he ordered. He didn’t have to worry. I was already fixed to the spot with fear.
I immediately scanned my surroundings, trying to get my bearings. All four assassins were fighting the enemies who looked like the same I’d seen earlier through Nyx’s eyes . . . killers dressed in black, with masks on. There were too many of them. Dozens pressing in from all directions.
Andrés ran after Melaina. Her screams pierced the chilled night air.
“Calla.” A whispered voice called inside my head, sending prickles over my skin. “Calla Caldwell.” Frozen in place, I held my head straight ahead, because I didn’t recognize the low, gravelly tone. The fact this mysterious voice knew my first and last name was frightening.
It was hard not to look, so I concentrated on the battle ahead.
Just in front of me, Brone yelled and swung his spiked mace, taking out three men at once. Their bodies flew backward with the brute force of his power. Blood splattered and bones fractured. The first one who caught the brunt of the blow, didn’t move. His body lay mangled and bleeding on the ground. The other two wouldn’t get up anytime soon.
Kylan had a double-edged sword in one fist. He was fast, skirting the swing of an enemy blade and ducking under another. He caught the forearm of an opponent, and in one swift movement, swung behind him, plunging his sword into the breast of another. With his grip still on the other, he withdrew his sword, whirled back around, and took off his head.
Feng’s long staff was like an extension of him. An extra-long limb, which he handled with remarkable speed and ability. I watched him push a button and a blade slip out from the tip. The way he moved was like a dance, fluid and agile, though powerful, and destructive. His staff, applied to specific vulnerable spots on the head and neck, were deadly blows.
Watching these men in the heat of battle, I realized why Trystan’s father had appointed them. I’d never seen anyone fight like them. Their enemies were falling as fast as they were running in.
Andrés had rescued Melaina. His arm was around her midriff, pulling her along, while the other gripped a sword, dispatching those attacking them.
“Calla.” The voice called again.
I shouldn’t have looked, should have resisted the impulse to see who was calling me, but I was weak.
My eyes settled on a dark figure stepping out of the shadows with luminous alabaster eyes.
I could sense this man had power. I could feel it radiating from him.
“If you wish to see your friend alive, come with me.” I didn’t see his mouth move, but it was as if he were standing right beside me, his voice speaking directly into my ear. “If you inform your companions, you will die.”
I didn’t move. I stayed pressed against the tree while Kylan, Brone, and Feng advanced toward the continual threat. The thought of Brynna in the enemy’s hands—an enemy that murdered my mother and her parents—caused me to turn back toward the ominous stranger.
But had they truly captured her?
The man’s head inclined to the side. “You seek confirmation.” His left hand slipped into his dark overcoat pocket and withdrew something gripped in his fingers. With a snap, a glowing light in his right palm illuminated a heart-shaped, golden locket with a swan engraved on top. A swan with a diamond eye.
Gods damned. It was Brynna’s.
“Come without struggle, and I’ll take you to where she is.”
He realized he had me. There was no way I’d jeopardize Brynna’s life.
I turned my attention back to the assassins, quickly realizing most of the enemies who were pressing in weren’t really fighting. They were distractions, sent to draw the attention of the cadre so the true enemy could get to me.
“Now,” the silvery-eyed man warned, his palm extended.
With Brynna’s life on the line, my hands were tied. I had no other option than to leave with him.
I took a few steps toward the white-eyed stranger when I heard Kylan roar, “Calla, no!” The expression in his turquoise eyes and on his face was one of complete dread. He lunged toward me, but it was too late.
As soon as my hand linked with the man, we were encompassed in a cloud of darkness. Wind tore around us, lifting us skyward, away from the others.
Chapter Ten
When we stopped, in what seemed like a minute later, we were no longer in the Whisper Woods. We were in a small room, ten by fifteen feet, where the walls and floors were made of stone. On one side was a small alcove with a primitive toilet—a pail with a wooden board set over it.
This wasn’t a room. This was a cell.
“Where am I?” I questioned, shoving away from the man.
“Morbeth,” he responded.
I struggled to calm my frayed nerves, but it was useless. “Where is my friend?”
“She is safe,” he responded gently.
“You told me you’d take me to her!” I couldn’t stop shaking, my mind reeling.
“I said I’d take you to where she is. She is here, in the palace.�
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“You bastard,” I hissed.
“The prince will see you soon. If you act appropriately, he might let you out of here to see her.”
Act appropriately? What the hell did that mean? If that meant surrendering to a man who sent his army to hunt for me and my parents because of what Nicolae did, I would never submit to him.
“Take me out of here,” I wailed, swinging my fist at the man. But his body dissolved, as if he were mist, my hand shooting straight through him. When he became solid again, he stepped closer and clutched my wrist.
“It is not prudent to lash out when you have a price on your head. They are capable of evil you cannot fathom. Do not give them reason to use you as an example.” His eyes were hard set and rigid, his words like lashes. But it seemed like he was trying to help me.
This man was older. Maybe in his fifties, with silvery hair and a weathered face. But I couldn’t get over those eyes. Those alabaster eyes.
“Who are you?” I inquired, my voice quivering.
He released my wrist and stepped back, his eyes still narrowed on me. “My name is Erro. I was sent by Prince Roehl Tynan to retrieve you.”
“How did we get to Morbeth so quickly?”
“I am a Wanderer,” was his reply.
I’d heard tales of Wanderers. Magical people who controlled the wind and used it to travel. They appeared human but were far from mortal, and no one thought they still existed. Some claimed they were formed from magic and wind, and after experiencing it firsthand, I believed it.
“I’ve done nothing wrong. Please don’t leave me here,” I pleaded. “They’ll kill me, just like they killed my mother.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his tone softening. “I’ve sworn under an oath. A vow I cannot break. My family’s life depends on it.” His eyes met mine, his head cocked slightly to the side. “There is magic in you. But it is dormant. Concealed with stronger magic. Find a means to release it,” he implored in a muffled tone, placing his warm palm on my arm. “It can keep you alive.”
With a bow of his head, his body turned to mist. And just like that, he dissolved, leaving nothing but a burst of icy wind behind.
