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Bria

E vander lets a low sound escape his lips, a growl in response to Quinn’s remark.

But I sit still as his hand presses into me, trying to soak in all the information I just received.

The horrors of the castle were something I knew of only distantly, not expecting to ever need to come face to face with them.

And knowing my sister is down there, and what could be happening to her, makes my stomach twist up in knots, the stew threatening to make a second appearance.

Those who went willingly to the priests were said to be blessed, allowed to live a full life in commitment to Vaohr because they recognized their unworthiness.

They were sacrificing themselves to right the unbalance of the world.

But that was a lie and always had been. Those who turned themselves in saw no different fates than those who were captured.

All were brought to the dungeons. All were used and abused in the name of the one true god.

“Okay,” I say finally.

“That’s my girl,” Quinn coos, shooting me that beaming, two-dimple smile.

Evander is scowling. He hates the idea of going back.

Even before tonight, I was aware his time there was horrendous, and I wanted to avoid him having to return at all costs.

But now, hearing more of what actually occurs there, I want even less for him to go.

But Quinn is right, it’s the best shot we have at saving Nimai and getting out alive.

“So where will you be? You can’t come with us,” I ask softly, realizing we’ll need to part from our dear friend during this journey.

“Right. Aamon would recognize me the moment I step foot in Castle Eccleston.” He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning further back into the chair. “And unlike you, lucky Bria, he has no use for me. We’ll take the path of the Gilded Forest. I’ll stay there and wait for you both.”

He continues speaking and I wonder how I ever could have missed the warrior in training when we were younger.

I’d been too consumed with my own life, my new powers, and my family to see it, I suppose.

His family was intertwined with the rebels, as was mine.

But I was unaware. Quinn had not received that luxury.

He was bound with a secret from a young age and the lines marring his handsome face show the years of worry, of having to grow up too fast. Though, maybe we all had experienced a little of that.

“You will arrive on foot,” he continues. “Cite the attack and your horse taking off during the incident, if anyone asks. Though they will probably be too absorbed in your return, Ev.”

“Not entirely untrue,” Evander chimes in, the grit still in his voice. I lean into him more, seeking his warmth and comfort. His body relaxes slightly under my weight.

“Why wouldn’t we just take the horse?” I question.

His teeth flash and my stomach does a somersault, having a mind of its own when it sees that smile.

Good luck to anyone who tries to snag him , I think.

The man’s smile could set you on fire. And apparently talking tactics makes him a very happy man indeed.

It’s the most I’ve seen him smile since we were children.

“Because if you do, that horse is staying there. If you manage to rescue Nimai and get all three of you out of the castle, you’ll still need to get to the stables.

And from there, steal two horses and, what?

Ride off into the sunset?” He lets out a chuckle.

“Ev would be killed, and you and Nimai would be drugged and dragged back to the castle before you even made it out of Easthallow.”

Right again. Insufferable. Cloaking the three of us in shadow would be easier for me if there were not massive horses to also cloak. Again, he’s making sense.

Quinn stands staring at the two of us, his gaze lingering on all the places our bodies meet, likely realizing that his push to keep us apart has been futile. He grimaces, his expression pained.

“Get some rest, you both need it. I’ll come get you in the morning. We can figure out the details on our ride tomorrow.”

He moves toward the door, and a fresh wave of panic takes over—the injuries I experienced in the scrubland, the fear when I almost died, the emotions I’m sure to battle the entire time we are in the capital…

Whether Nimai receives visions of me like I do of her, I don’t know.

But there is another person I have a connection to.

And I’m positive he knows exactly what’s happening and both Quinn and Evander need to be aware of that as well.

“Quinn.”

He turns back, eyeing me warily when he notes my expression, one hand still positioned on the doorknob.

“What about Silas?”

He keeps his expression neutral. “What about him?”

“He knows. He has to know,” I explain, holding up my damaged wrist. “He’s going to come for me.” Evander’s grip on me tightens, but Quinn just sets his mouth in a flat line.

Maybe they finally understand. Or at least they are accepting the magic that keeps Silas and I tethered to one another. It’s odd, but since I left the camp, there has been an ache I can’t quite pinpoint, something that’s missing. My body—my magic—wants him back.

“I’ll find him.”

And with that, he leaves, closing the door gently behind him.

Despite the fear I have about going to the castle, I also feel confident that Quinn knows what he’s doing.

Confident that he will indeed find Silas and keep him safe until I return.

But when I let my gaze find Evander, the same surety is not registering on his sorrowful face.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks, his face softening as concern blossoms in his chocolate eyes.

I snort, somehow finding the morbid amusement in the situation. “I’m not really sure what other choice we have.”

“But seeing my father again, being forced to lie about who you are and what you believe… I just want to make sure you’re okay with it. As much as you can be, that is.”

He’s too wonderful, thinking about me throughout all of this instead of himself. I angle my body to fully face him, his hand slipping from my back as I move. Looking into his eyes, I can’t help but focus on the warmth within.

“It’s going to be far harder for you to face your father. So really, Ev, I should be asking you if it’s okay. Not the other way around. You’re risking your life to save my sister.”

“She’s not just your sister, Bria. She’s also the future of Azudora.” He reaches out to hold my hand, stroking his thumb along the back of it. “As are you. And I will do everything in my power to keep you both alive.”

I swallow hard, nodding my head. He means it and he will try, but it doesn’t push away the feeling that we might both meet our end in the walls of that castle,that neither of us may make it back to Quinn and Silas.

And where would that leave the rebel forces?

Without a prophecy to end the years of hiding, protecting their own, and trying to right the wrongs of the king and his priests.

Even thinking of Helara and the other rebels makes grief and guilt surge through me.

If I survive this, the rebel captain might just kill me for leaving in the dead of night.

The woman has become a second mother to me over the years and this betrayal of her trust will cut deep.

Not to mention she happens to be a very close friend of my parents and had sworn to keep me safe.

“Ev?” I ask quietly, my eyes cast down at our intertwined hands, his tanned skin so dark against the pure white of my own. “Do you think my mother is alive?”

The thought has been racing through my head since the moment I found out where Nimai was. He stiffens beside me, and his hand squeezes mine.

“I truly hope so Bria,” he whispers softly.

There had been no word from the southern camp before the visions started.

But somehow, Nimai was taken. My mother could be in the dungeons with her.

Or she could be dead. There’s no way she would have fled without Nimai, I feel sure of that.

But her magic would not have aided the rebels in an attack.

My mother could bless. She could bestow a brief gift upon another, be that a boost in strength for a limited time or an increase in fortitude.

It was a useful power, one that could provide immense support in battle, but not something that would have saved her or Nimai.

Evander releases my hand to take the dishes back to the tray.

He places it outside of the door, the gentle clinking ringing through the quiet room, and locks it behind him.

He strips off his tunic, the muscles of his abs gleaming, and strides to the other side of the bed.

He takes his trousers off and remains only in his undershorts.

My stomach clenches as he climbs in beside me and I throw him what I hope is a coquettish grin.

A low chuckle escapes him before he opens his arms for me.

I happily oblige, scooting my body into the curve of his, my back to his chest. He winds his top arm around me and interlaces his fingers with mine.

I feel him nestle his head into my damp, unbound hair and brush a kiss across the back of my neck.

My heart wells up inside me, the gesture feeling so intimate and welcoming, feeling so right.

We stay like that for some time, not speaking but just soaking in the touch of one another—the closeness, the silence, just being here together. At some point, fitted snugly into the man at my back, I drift off to sleep.