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Cal blinked at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Hawthorne! Hawthorne was here!’ She waved the small box at him, looking around the campsite wildly. ‘Where the fuck is Kipp?’

‘On watch…’ Cal looked at her as though she were going mad. ‘Thea… I think you must have been having a nightmare.’

‘Then what the fuck is this?’ she exclaimed, shoving the box into his chest, noting that not only was there a lightning bolt sketched across it, but three little words as well:

Happy name day.

A taunt.

Rage roiled within Thea, her heart racing once again, beating almost painfully against her ribcage as short, shallow gasps took hold. Her whole body tensed, her fists clenching at her sides.

For a year she had hunted him, had chased him all over the midrealms, had slayed every monster in her path, save for him. Now, here he was, proving that she was as incompetent as thewhispers said. He had snuck past Kipp on watch, past Cal at the fire and into her tent to leave this barb at her feet. She hadn’t even woken until it was too late. Some would-be Warsword she was.

Cal was turning the object over in his fingers with a frown, and Thea snatched it back to examine it herself.

Happy name day.

For the briefest of seconds, her pathetic heart wondered if it was a true gift, rather than an insult. But it was beyond unfathomable.

With an enraged cry, she threw the box with all her strength into the dark, icy forest, towards the half-frozen river.

‘I’m going to kill him.’

CHAPTER THREE

WILDER

Wilder Hawthorne slipped back through the frozen forest like a ghost.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, he left Thea behind, an ache settling deep in his chest. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from watching her sleep, just for a few moments. She’d been bundled in layers of furs and blankets against the icy night, so he had only glimpsed her face. He had seen her sleeping countless times before, but what had struck him in the soft glow of her tent was that she looked different. It had been a year. An entire year since he’d looked upon her closely. Now, he noticed, the lines of her face didn’t soften in slumber, but somehow seemed sharper, as though she carried the anger of her waking hours into her dreams.

There was a time when Wilder would have slept beside her, held her in his arms until her body melted against his and her nightmares were kept at bay… but those days were long gone.

Snow crunched in front of him suddenly. Wilder’s hand flew to his sword —

Kipp held his hands up in surrender, his auburn hair flopping into his eyes. ‘I know you could kill me before I draw another breath.’

Wilder scanned the Guardian for weapons. Slowly, he removed his hand from the grip of his blade. ‘Don’t raise the alarm.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Kipp replied, his long arms falling to his sides. ‘Did Thea see you?’

Wilder stiffened at the sound of her name on the lips of another. ‘No.’

‘So why the midnight visit?’

‘I had something important to give her.’

‘A traitor bearing name day gifts, how lovely,’ Kipp retorted.

Wilder bit back a growl. ‘There’s more to this than what you see.’

‘I should fucking hope so,’ the Guardian said boldly. ‘I wouldn’t have let you get into camp otherwise.’

Wilder swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘How is she?’

‘She wouldn’t want me talking to you, let alone about her.’