Page 100

She pats me. “It’s an order, Katerina. Go.”

By the time I get to my room, I collapse into my bed, boots on and all.

My emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion pulled me into a dreamless, dark sleep. When I woke in the morning, I was almost more tired than I had been before I slept. I skip breakfast and slip off toward the lake, longing to be near Daeja.

Beams of sunlight cast blinding sparks of light on the lake’s surface through the tree line. Birds dip and skim across the scattered waves. Daeja approaches me, her footfalls heavy on the forest floor, and her tail swishing back and forth.

A trilling croak tears our attention to the shore.

Daeja flinches, mere feet away from me as she swivels toward the sound. A toad stares at us with glassy black eyes, leaping a few paces toward us. Daeja’s lips curl back to reveal razor-sharp fangs, a threatened hiss escaping from her as she flares her wings. The toad leaps forward again, its throat expanding with another croak. Daeja scurries behind me, fear emanating from her.

I chuckle, turning to her and patting her head. “It’s just a toad. It won’t hurt you.”

Her eyes narrow at the creature, her nostrils flaring as the toad’s throat expands again. The toad takes another leap forward, just a few feet from us now. Daeja’s frozen behind me.

“It’s likely more afraid of you, than you are of it.”I crouch down in an attempt to show her there’s no need to be afraid.

Daeja slides out from behind me, her eyes determined. She sucks in a loud breath and attempts to imitate the toad by inflating her throat. The toad blinks but doesn’t move.

Daeja lowers her head a few inches above the ground, glaring at the toad and blows. The toad flips over before scrambling to its webbed feet and bounding back off toward the lake.

I giggle, sitting down and patting Daeja’s thick neck. She never ceases to make me laugh.

She turns away from me and backs up to sit on my lap. Except she’s far too big now, and I roll away before she can crush me under her weight. Her catlike pupils expand in realization, and instead, she rests beside me and lays her chin on my lap. I stroke the bony ridge of her nose, each black scale cool against my fingertips. Her slanted eyes flutter closed, and a content purr rumbles in her chest. Trailing my fingers up to the crown of her head, I brush her horns, now longer and thicker than my arm.

The sunlight glints off the silver of Cole’s ring around my finger. A reminder I haven’t seen him since we returned from Blackfell. My stomach flips—I’m unable to decipher whether it's because I’m haunted by the memory of him beating the rebel to death or because of how close I came to losing him.

But one thing is for certain—we have to get out of Arterias. And if I can steal Darian’s map, perhaps we don’t need to wait until Cole receives one.

Daeja’s eyes flash open, her pupils expanding and narrowing back down to slits.

“What is it?”

“Do you hear that?”

I still. An uneven thud of footsteps approaches behind us.My breath catches, and I scramble to my feet as Daeja rises.I tap two fingers to the side of her neck. She vanishes for a brief moment but flickers back into view, the strenuous events from yesterday having drained her energy. Her wide eyes meet mine.

I point toward the trees. “Go, hide!”

She dashes off and slinks behind a thick grouping of trees. Except...as she stills behind a trunk, she’s too wide. Her tail and the edges of her horns peek out from the cover of the tree. I rush toward her, motioning her to squeeze tighter behind the tree’s silhouette, but it’s no use.

A squeak comes from behind us. “Shit!”

Shit.

I turn. Archie’s mouth is dropped open in a silent gasp, and his hand fumbles at his side for his dagger. His face is ghost white, his eyes wide as he gawks at Daeja. I race toward him before he can run off and alert everyone.

He staggers forward, sweeping me behind him, and raises the dagger. “Kat, run!”

Terror floods my veins. He clenches the dagger in his non-dominant hand, considering his throwing arm was the one injured last night. He might be inaccurate and hit her. Or be accurateenoughto hit her. Slingshotting forward, I whip his arm down and tear the dagger from his grip before he can throw it.

He hisses, “What are you—”

Daeja slinks out from behind the trees and growls. The sound reverberates around us, and birds from nearby trees shoot into the air with a cry.

“Stop, you’ll scare him.”

“That’s the point.”She bristles as she raises her head and flares her wings, a silent snarl curling her lips.