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Though he doubted she needed, or wanted, his protection, the thought of her facing anything alone made him want to slam his fist into the nearest tree. He couldn’t stand it.

Wilder’s chest was tight as he reached the portcullis, and he found himself wandering the familiar passageway to his brother’s rooms. He needed to think of anything other than the commotion filling Thezmarr as the shieldbearers readied themselves for their initiation. Thea was somewhere out there, strapping armour and weapons to a body he hadn’t nearly finished worshipping.

Malik wasn’t in his rooms. The bed was neatly made and the fire had long since burned out. There was no sign of Dax, either. Their absence only fuelled Wilder’s agitation. He charged through the fortress, snarling at anyone who half looked in his direction.

Where in the name of the Furies is Malik?Wilder knew he wasn’t thinking straight, he knew he was behaving like some feral beast on the loose, but he didn’t care. Only the gods knew why, but he needed to find his brother.

He barged through the kitchens, causing the cook to shriek as he upset a pot of stew and sent a basket of bread flying. The Great Hall was mostly empty, but for a few commanders placing bets on the shieldbearers. Wilder put a stop to that with a single, searing look that sent them scurrying in the opposite direction. A group of alchemists gathered outside the workshop and he turned on his heel immediately, the sight of them making his chest ache.

Has she finished arming herself?he wondered.Has Osiris given them the instructions yet?

Thea was all he could think about, her and the dangers she would face…

At last, Wilder found Malik and Dax in the library. As the Warsword burst into the quiet room, cursing himself for not looking there first, Malik looked up from the belt he was braiding, that grey-eyed gaze meeting his expectantly.

‘Mal,’ Wilder managed, his chest heaving as he paced the worn carpet before the hearth. ‘I…’

His brother’s hands stilled between the strands of leather and he surveyed Wilder’s dishevelled and torn clothes without surprise or concern, waiting patiently.

Wilder ran his hands through his hair, through his beard, the words suddenly stuck, his ears ringing. The strange sensation that time had slowed washed over him and his throat constricted as he tried to articulate the warring emotions within. He glanced at the empty armchair beside Mal, but he couldn’t sit. He needed to move, needed to rid himself of the fear that was coursing through his veins.

What was he supposed to say? That after all this time and all his attempts at keeping himself in check, he’d… That now the woman he cared for was undertaking the shieldbearer test? That she might not walk out of it the same person? Furies knew he hadn’t meant for any of it to happen; he had battled with every fibre of his being to keep himself in control, but… the alchemist had become so much more. How could he have denied her?

Despite his closeness to the fire and his constant movement, Wilder was cold and jittery. Until a warm, large hand fell gently on his shoulder.

Wilder turned to find his brother on his feet, towering over even him. To his surprise, Malik drew him into a quiet embrace.

Wilder couldn’t remember the last time anyone had comforted him, held him like this, and for the first time in a long while, Wilder accepted the support gratefully. For so long he had felt like the older brother, but in this moment, Malik was just as he remembered: sturdy and strong, a shelter amidst a storm.

‘Thank you, brother,’ Wilder managed, at last pulling away. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

Malik pierced him with a knowing look, as if to say,yes, you do.

Wilder ran his fingers through his beard again and loosed a dark laugh. ‘Fine, perhaps I do,’ he allowed.

At that, Mal smiled. Then he reached for a book resting on the side table by his chair. He held it out to Wilder, as though it would solve all his problems.

Humouring him, Wilder took it with a glance at the title.

A Study of Royal Lineage Throughout the Midrealms.

‘Is this to help me sleep?’ He frowned at the faded leather cover.

Malik made a noise that could have been a snort and forced the pages apart, pointing to the text.

But Wilder’s eyes wouldn’t focus. He felt the weight of it all on his shoulders, in his gut. ‘Brother, tell me she’ll make it through.’

‘Thea will make it,’ came a voice from the door.

Audra, the warrior-turned-librarian, entered, straight-backed and severe as ever.

Wilder didn’t deny who he meant. It was written so plainly all over his face. ‘How can you be sure?’

The older woman’s gaze was piercing. ‘Because I raised her.’

Suddenly, Dax shot to his feet with a sharp bark and bolted to the window. There, he jumped up so that his front paws rested on the sill and he looked out, a growl sounding.

Frowning, Wilder, Malik and now Audra followed.