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I lifted white knuckles and knocked on the door. Not a beat later, they swung open to reveal two soldiers standing vigil on the other side. Both wore the black and grey tones of my court, their silver cloaks stitched with the Icethorn symbol: a sword pointing north through a mountain range.

They bowed the second they saw me, removing their helmets out of respect. I caught the flash of pride in their colourless eyes, round-tipped ears, the twitch of leathery wings unfolding beyond slits in their charcoal-grey cloaks.

Gryvern – or at least they had once been. Now, with the gradual return of their humanity thanks to the death of their sire, Doran Oakstorm, and the claim of their new master, these gryvern were the only soldiers I had to call upon. They were gifted to me by the one who controlled them – the man whose door I had finally knocked upon in my desperation.

“I’m here to speak with” – I took a deep breath, forcing the final word out – “Erix.”

The two gryvern spared each other a glance. Their greytinged skin reflected the light from the many burning sconces that lined the walls of the corridor at their backs. “We didn’t receive word of your arrival, King Icethorn,” one of them said.

“We apologise for not being better prepared to welcome you,” the other added, looking behind me in search of something that wasn’t there. “Did you not arrive with a guard?”

I rolled my shoulders back, feigning the fake smile that I’d perfected, and regretting how easy it was to lie. “We are in an era of peace, the first of its kind in generations, perhaps longer. There is nothing that can threaten me here, not anymore.”

It was a point no one could argue with, and yet both the gryvern gave me a look as if they could see right through my lies. “Precaution is still wise, King Icethorn.”

“No need for that,” I said, waving them off, adorning the mask of the unbothered, cold-hearted king I’d become. “And I didn’t send word ahead because this is somewhat of an impromptu visit.”

“We understand, although Erix will not be pleased,” the gryvern replied, his voice almost sounding forced out of a throat full of stones. “The world may be saved, but you are still the king, and new threats can replace the old. Please, send for us next time, and we will escort you, as previously agreed.”

As previously agreed.

No. It was never agreed that I’d need full-time shadows. Erix had attempted to offer it, but my refusal had been clear and that had not wavered since my last meeting with him. Even now I still could hear the sharp tone I’d used the last time I’d been in a room with him, his wild panicked eyes and frantic demands. As if he still believed there was something to fear in the world, and yet when I looked him dead in the eyes and asked him what, he never gave me an answer.

Because he didn’t want to, or he couldn’t, I wasn’t sure.

Our argument had pained me at the time, and the memory weighed on me even now. The gaping maw of time had simmered between us since, drawing us apart just like with all of my friends and allies.

But I had good reasons not to have shadows. I had secrets that required the dark to hide in.

I swallowed down the sudden spike of sickness. If I hadn’t cultivated such a rigid control over myself, I would’ve doubled over and spilled the contents of my stomach across the gryvern’s recently polished greaves. “A short journey from Imeria to Berrow will hardly allow room for danger. After all,” – I forced a smile – “we’re in an era of peace, as I’ve said. The days of danger are far behind us.”

I hardly convinced myself, let alone them.

The air around me seemed to grow heavier suddenly, and I wasn’t the only one to notice. The gryvern guards parted before me, just in time for a new voice to join the fray.

“It’s with that mindset that you’ll find yourself harmed one of these days,little bird.”

I looked from the soldiers to the corridor behind them. Parting from the shadows, with arms clasped behind his back and chin held high, was the man I’d been avoiding since our last encounter, even though he was the very person I needed in this moment.

He was the person I had needed since returning with Duncan from the Elmdew Court.

Erix. The man I once called my personal guard, my lover. The man who was used as a puppet and killed my father. The man who had proved himself to me, over and over. The man who had vowed that I was his duty, and his pleasure. Erix who’d sworn himself to me, and I’d discarded him the first moment I could.

Perhaps he hated me for how I treated him the last time we saw each other, but if only he knew that I did it to protect him.

I’d doanythingto protect him.

Erix looked more like the fey I had met for the first time in the Hunter’s camp than he had at any time since his unwilling transformation. His skin had reclaimed its sun-kissed hue, no longer a drab grey but sparkling like gold. Bright silver eyes bore into me from where he stood, tall and straight-backed, his entire focus pinned to where I stood. Erix tensed in every manner of the word; his jaw tightened as he drank me in. It was shadowed with a light beard that matched the short-shorn cut of his hair. It was impossible to not admire the structure of his bones, even if I wanted to look away, I couldn’t.

He – like his gryvern beside me – had his wings on display outside of his armoured outfit. Half fey, half monster – and yet from the way he looked at me, I couldn’t help but remember that he was completely and entirely mine if only I accepted it. Whether or not he was beside me these days, he still had my best interests at heart.

He always would.

Eroan reminded me as much, every week, when he told me Erix had asked after me during our two-man council meetings. Erix’s incessant requests for an audience with me, which I declined every week.

I just wasn’t prepared to accept it. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I had to protect him.

“Erix,” I said in greeting, his name awkward in my mouth. “How – how are you?”