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‘She might,’ Torj said quietly. ‘If there was something only she could do…’

Thea’s stomach bottomed out at the Bear Slayer’s suggestion. But if he was right, and Audra had intended to find them allies, she had failed. ‘Do you think she’s alright? She could be buried under all that snow for all we know…’

Torj raised a brow. ‘Knowing Audra… do you think that’s likely?’

‘I don’t know what to think anymore.’

The tent flap flung inward and Cal appeared, his quiver and bow draped over his shoulder, several dead hares hanging from his hand.

‘If it isn’t Callahan the Flaming Arrow!’ Kipp said gleefully. ‘What have you been up to?’

Cal shook his head, but couldn’t seem to hide his joy at seeing Kipp back to his usual self. ‘Figured we might offer these to Everard as payment. I doubt he’ll be accepting the king’s coin from Thea this time around.’

Kipp simply shrugged. ‘You know what they say… Gold is gold.’

‘Who says that?’ Cal demanded.

Another shrug. ‘People.’

Cal rolled his eyes. ‘When do we leave?’

‘Sylas Yarrow has command in our absence,’ Anya said. ‘I’ll brief him and find Dratos. Then we’re out of here.’

‘Not again…’ Wilder mumbled at Thea’s side.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘I…’ He looked sheepish, an expression she had never seen on his handsome face. ‘I fucking hate shadow magic travel,’ he admitted.

A smile lifted the corner of Thea’s lips. ‘Oh?’

‘Makes me feel queasy, alright?’

Stifling her laughter, she squeezed his hand. ‘Alright.’

Anya took Thea and Kipp first, her shadows holding them in place, her wings beating loudly around them as the icy wind howled beneath them. Thea found the magic exhilarating. It felt freeing to soar through the crisp air, the landmarks below mere specks against the brilliant white snow. Chuckling under her breath, she thought of Wilder wrapped in Dratos’ shadows, his eyes screwed shut in discomfort. It shouldn’t make her laugh, really. But the idea that her formidable Warsword, who’d slayed countless monsters and faced the horrors of the Scarlet Tower, got queasy with a little shadow flight was a tad amusing.

She was thinking of him when her boots crunched atop fresh snow, and Anya’s shadows dissipated, revealing Everard, the owner of the Singing Hare, standing beneath the tavern’s swinging wooden sign.

He wore a broad grin as he greeted them all with outstretched hands. ‘Welcome back to the best tavern in the midrealms.’

Kipp strode forward, clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. ‘Second best, Everard, let’s not get carried away.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

WILDER

Wilder had never been more glad for a warm fire and the crisp taste of ale on his tongue. Everard had roped off an entire section for ‘Kipp’s party’ and had piled the tables high with food and drink.

Even with the bulk of their remaining forces having made their way into the surrounding town to utilise its supplies and resources, their unlikely company of leaders seemed to sprawl across the tavern. It was a strange sight to behold. It felt like both yesterday and years ago that they had all rallied here in secret, trying to forge the first semblance of an alliance between the shadow-touched and the midrealms. Since then, shadow-touched, Warswords and Guardians had faced the true enemy on the battlefield, and now stood side by side, breaking bread. It was history in the making.

And somewhere below the raucous rooms and toasts was King Artos, chained and under guard, awaiting their interrogation, if they hadn’t already started up again. He deserved every ounce of pain they inflicted on him. Wilder had seen with his own eyes the cruelty he’d inflicted upon the shadow-touched captives, the burns and welts, the haunted look in their eyes, the children in cages. Yes, Artos deserved everything he got.

The anger and resentment faded as Wilder’s gaze fell to Thea across the room. She was talking to Anya and Adrienne, flicking her braid over her shoulder and using her hands to explain something. For a moment, all he did was watch her. Warmth bloomed in his chest as she smiled, her eyes bright while Anya responded to whatever she’d said. Gods, he still couldn’t believe she was his. He hadn’t so much as dared to dream it when they’d first met, that one day he’d be able to make such a claim. He’d denied himself and his feelings for so long, convinced that she was better off without him, that they didn’t need one another.

She’d proven him wrong, time and time again.

And here they were, together.