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Garrik growled, “He will pay for this.”

Thalon’s grin swelled his cheeks.

“Go, I will meet you there in four hours.” Pivoting on his heel, Garrik walked toward his tent.

Thalon rolled the map and smiled across the firesite at her. She hadn’t seen him since the night before at the bonfires and at their tents after.

But her eyes drifted to Garrik, who was almost entirely consumed by Smokeshadows, dawning to somewhere unknown. His head pivoted over his shoulder before his glowing eyes half-lidded. His mouth turned upward, flashing that irritating yet intoxicating smirk that let her know her friend was still there.

Smokeshadows tendriled around his body, fully fading into complete shadow.

And then he was gone.

Alynthia wasn’t a town … it was a damn city. And Thalon led the long hike up the cobblestone street towered by the mountain. Passing storefronts with potted plants, patios with tables to sit and eat, and businesses with their doors darkened and closed.Strange.An odd hour to close shops.

It wasn’t late, yet the gossip of the High Prince’s soldiers in the city had spread. Fear-ridden business owners had closedearly and ran to the safety of their homes and shuttered doors. This section of the city, untouched by the fiery beast, was mostly quiet, save for a few roamers on the street. They took one look at Thalon’s towering, muscled figure and golden sword strapped to his back, and quickly made themselves scarce in the shadows of nearby alleys.

A darkened figure bounded on heavy steps down the sloped street toward them.

Thalon stiffened at the strangers’ rushed footfalls. Cautious. Ready.

Creating their own wind as they advanced, the pearly white and golden threaded cloak around the figure’s shoulders drifted open, revealing marked arms with beasts and runes.

Marks much like Thalon’s.

They didn’t slow. Not when Thalon’s marked arm tore out in front, ripping the hood from their face. Not when a heavy crack resounded as he pinned them against a wall with unearthly strength in his bulging forearm.

In the golden sun’s glow, perfectly resting between mountain peaks and over rooftops across the street, his unusual shadow flickered darker against the painted blue walls of a weapons shop.

For a moment … Alora’s eyes hallucinated.

Thalon’s shadow. Itgrew. Outstretching wide like a flying creature’s wings.

The strangers did too.

Jade ripped a dagger from its sheath. Pivoting her head, she scanned the street, rooftops, the alleys. Green eyes darkened with lethal focus as she shot Alora a commanding glare to draw her weapons.

She did as Jade asked.

Thalon’s tongue erupted with brimstone fury. Unsettling in its power yet forgiving in its rush. A sound much like spokenword inside the back of her mind laced with melodic ticks and stops, crossing his tongue with graceful wrath. It was unnerving, rattling Alora’s bones as she listened to its many layers of sound, wondering if Eldacar could teach her this, too. And as unsteady as her nerves felt at the foreign language crossing her ears, the female stranger remained unfazed, gritting her teeth but holding silent.

“Answer me. Did you earn these marks or are you playing a pretender? Dishonoring a Guardian in such fraud is grounds fordeathby the hands of Tarrent-Garren Keep.” He pressed his sword against her gut, poking through the fabric. “Speak.” Holy fire …actual fire… glowed in his golden eyes.

Instead of turning into a loosened heap of cowering bones, this time, the female lunged back with a vain bite in the same tongue. A deep brown hand stretched out, and she flicked one golden bead on Thalon’s hair with a baiting smile before he crushed her wrist in his palm.

“I like a male with intensity. Surely one of the later houses with a golden spirit such as yours. I’m Blythe, one of four Guardians of Alynthia. And you are?” She nodded and pulled the pearl hood over her thick, twisted ebony locks adorned in the same golden beads as his.

Thalon released the sword from her abdomen and sheathed it between his rippling shoulder blades, then retracted his forearm, still reeling before he nodded, bowing his head in honor. “Thalon, House of the Seventh N. Tell me, who is your family?”

“Buy me a drink first, Seventh N, then I’ll share all my secrets.” The Guardian shot him an enticing wink before she turned and walked up the street toward the tavern. Turned as if he hadn’t just had her pinned to the wall. As if giving them her back didn’t offer any risk to her life.

Not one of them moved, shifting eyes to each other in utter shock.

“You coming, Seventh N? Or has that High Prince’s army slowed you? Surely not, seeing as you’re dripping with Earned.” Blythe’s white cloak swayed through the swinging off-center door.

Jade crossed her arms, leathers groaning as she grinned. “I like her.”

“I’ve never heard you say that about anyone. Not even me.”