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Dinner that evening was momentous.Aiden had explored Alynthia and returned with satchels overflowing with fine meats, vegetables, breads, butter, cheeses, and the most decadent aroma of spices that they hadn’t had the pleasure of enjoying in his absence.

A roasted red sauce bubbled in the iron pan while meatballs spiced with dried basil, oregano, rosemary, and thyme sizzled on a flat stone. Homemade pasta boiled in a pan while he grated a stiff cheese into a pile over a table near the fire. His bright face, cast in the fires dancing glow, had lit up when she walked into their firesite.

Everyone had been around the fire.

Everyone except Garrik.

When the pans emptied—and not one plate was set aside for him—she began to worry. The sun was falling into night, long since passing behind the last peak and welcoming in a golden moon. She waited at the firesite until all the others abandoned the warmth of the fire for their tents, and only then did she venture to her bed too.

Now, the soft sheets felt coarse against Alora’s skin as she shifted atop the mattress, failing to find any position thatbrought relief. Although satisfied and full, thanks to Aiden, her stomach tightened with every frustrated adjustment she made to find comfort.

Her mind wandered recklessly, picturing Garrik as he was the night before. In the dungeon. Carrying her in his arms. Underneath her as they trained in her mind. In the war tent all day.

She entertained the thought as she traced her eyes over waved blackwood and the glass that sat inside. Her window danced with a single Smokeshadow tendril, carelessly beckoning to her to come and ask what she wished to see.

But the one thing she wanted to see … she thought it inappropriate to spy and quickly turned her eyes away.

With a deep inhale, Alora pressed her head into her pillow, missing the comfort of a leather and metal scent, and closed her eyes, wishing for sleep that didn’t come.

He was out there somewhere.

She couldfeelit. Some connection, like a tightened rope, pulled her every step.

Alora had waited, in the cover of the shadows, until he emerged from his tent. The burdens and torment of his day had been clear, and she ached to reach out and soothe it.

A sword sheathed in the scabbard on his back and one to his side, Garrik wore his battle leathers. Unusual. He never protected himself from war in his midnight trainings deep inside forests.

Something wasverywrong.

It had been all day.

For miles, Ghost’s white hair irradiated a faint prismed beacon through the mountain. Weaving slowly between towering pines, her steps were perfectly silent, as if Garrik was shielding each snap of a branch or crack of a stone.

By some mercy, Alora remained unnoticed riding Storm, who too seemed to understand the importance of their own cautious steps.

The darkness set an uneasy cover across the night. It didn’t dance and didn’t move as darkness usually did. Unsettled. Its pulse was heightened. Its touch was ominous. In its breath, it whispered caution.

Still, she followed him. Eyes pinned to the white beacon ahead—her guiding star.

Alora swallowed back the burning, rising bile in her throat.

Was he out there to … die?

You promised one more day. And another after that. One more day, every day.

Is that why he had barely looked at her all day? Barely spoken a word?

No.She wouldn’t think about that. Refused to entertain her reckless suspicion.

The tree branches webbed like a spider’s labyrinth overhead. A thick canopy that allowed shards of the glowing, golden moon to peek through. Her eyes adjusted to each passing tree, ears meticulously listening for any sound the mountain offered.

Alora’s eyes rolled to the skies after her High Prince was swallowed by a thicket of trees beyond a sleeping glen.

She sat atop the sloping hill, just inside the edge of ending pines, breathing in a cool lupine and valerian breeze dancing in from the north. The fluttering breeze disturbed her waved locks, tickling across warm skin until she tucked a strand away to bask in the magnificence. The stars glistened brighter, outshining the moon himself. Such beautiful swirls of dark royal waves in a way that resembled the deepest depths of oceans and held just as many secrets too. Dark amethyst and charcoal accompanied it, mixed and rippling around each star.

She’d never enjoyed gaping at something more than the night sky. Never felt comfortable in the scorching heart of the sun or light of day. But the night sky … she imagined its comfort to be something like what home should feel like. Darkness had always allured her, called to her. The safest place she could drown in and lose herself entirely to. Dancing its shadows in the most exquisite perfect steps.

Such beautiful shadows.