Page 9

Evander

I blink my eyes open to a sharp rapping on my door. Throwing back the blankets and rising from the bed, I tug on a pair of trousers as I pad to the entry. I pull it open, leaning on the door with one arm and rubbing my bleary eyes to reveal Quinn’s dark and massive form, already dressed for patrol.

He eyes me. Taking in the bare torso, tousled hair, and groggy look I give him, he lets out a chuckle. “You’re late, hurry up,” he says, turning to disappear back down the hallway.

“Fuck.” I stand in the empty doorframe for a beat, leaning my head against the wood even though I know I have no time to do so.

The door across the hall calls to me, begging to be opened so I can see her before I leave for the day.

I doubt she’s still sleeping. Bria is up before the rest of us most days, usually off on a run to keep her gifts in check around so many people who don’t come from magic.

If they saw the nightmares that girl could produce, all pretenses would be gone.

Even I have only witnessed small bursts of her power—not the true beast that dwells inside.

I drum my fingers on the wooden frame, trying to shift my focus away from her.

We have a long day ahead of us and my mind needs to be focused on patrol.

Quinn and I are going to check on another nearby village, just a few hours’ ride from here.

Helara has been keeping tabs on where the king’s scouts are going, which villages are still thriving, and how close the scouts are getting to our rebel camp in the mountains.

We didn’t tell Bria and Ash the entire story about the village last night, both refraining from saying how fresh the massacre was.

We couldn’t have arrived long after the attack as the smoke had still been billowing in the air.

The scent of burned flesh was lodged in my nose for hours after we left.

I squeeze my eyes shut and can still see the bodies in the trees, the blood crystalizing as it hit the freezing air.

Quinn had immediately begun to cut them down.

My friend’s face had been blank as he surveyed the scene and wordlessly worked on the ropes with his dagger.

I aided in the effort and Helara is sending others back there today to burn the bodies.

The ground is too frozen to allow for a proper burial, but she won’t leave them there, not like that.

Who knows what lies ahead of us today—more carnage? Or will we find this other village still undisturbed? I suppose it matters whether they have stayed loyal to the Crown or not.

I leave the doorway and begin readying for the day hastily in an effort to avoid another unexpected visit from Quinn.

When I descend the staircase, the breakfast room is bustling with the others, grabbing something to eat before their busy days ahead.

Shit. I really am late this morning if all these people are up already.

I walk swiftly past the table of commanders, nodding but not making a point to stop, that is, until I see Helara at the head of the table.

Her charcoal hair, dusted with silver, is pulled high atop her head, wound in an intricate bun.

The sleek style reveals her skin, a deep bronze, and she looks regal in her fine armor—more like a knight of olden times than the rebel leader she actually is.

She shifts her focus to me now and her eyes narrow.

My posture deflates and I make my way over to her side, kneeling by her chair.

“Commander Foster is waiting for you,” she says in a quiet voice, hands folded on the table in front of her.

“Yes, Captain. I’m running a bit behind, I apologize,” I state, leaving my arm draped across my raised knee. I train my eyes on a spot next to where my lowered knee sits, pressed into the hard floor.

It’s not as though she requires us to be so formal, but my training as a soldier both back home and in Easthallow drilled it into me. This is just who I am now—a soldier awaiting command.

“I am meeting with all the commanders today. After you return from patrol, you both need to meet me in the hall,” she declares, cool and straight to the point.

“Yes, Captain,” I answer and rise to my feet, the conversation over. Managing a small bow, I turn to take my leave, delighted to get away with such an insignificant interaction this morning.

“And, Commander Lansing,” she drawls, “ Don’t be late.” Her eyes remain on the table full of people, not turning her body back to me as she speaks.

I bob my head in acknowledgment anyway, though she can’t see me.

A flush of embarrassment spreads across my cheeks as I continue toward the door.

Ashbel is arriving with a tray of tea for the commanders as I pass, and my face betrays me.

I note the concern in her eyes but as she opens her mouth to speak to me, I slip out the front door.

No need to let Ash—or anyone else—know I was just shamed for sleeping in.

“You could have warned me they were all downstairs!” I spit out as I bring the stallion outside in line with Quinn’s. The horse’s mahogany coat glistens in the sun, fresh from a recent grooming.

Quinn shrugs. “Where’s the fun in that?” he retorts, chuckling as he takes off down the steep path out of the village.

Irritation grips me and I huff, leaving a cloud of white mist in the frosty air. I stare at his back as he speeds away from me, then kick my heels into the horse to catch up.