Page 42 of Blackheart

Riven pulled our packs down with ease, tossing them next to a tree. I leaned down, giving a piss-poor attempt to touch my toes, and was instead met with another shooting pain that sent me back upward.

Riven shook his head. “Cross your arms over your chest.”

Desperate for relief, I obeyed. He stood behind me, wrapping his arms over mine and lifting me off the ground with a tight squeeze. Cracks rippled down my spine like an avalanche. I sighed as he lowered me back down.

“Thank you.”

He reached inside his pack and pulled out a smoke. Lighting a match, he picked a tree to lean against.

“But you don’t drink?” I asked.

He kept his head against the bark, eyes aimed at the canopy of forest above. “Does this look like a drink?”

“Looks like a vice, no different.”

Riven’s weapons were strapped along his chest and the sides of his black leathers. The longer I looked, the more steel I noticed tucked in various places.

I probably appeared ridiculous in comparison, wearing two layers of loose, black pants and a dark sweater that had seen better days. I thanked Fate it wasn't the worst cold I had ever experienced, as we’d surely be spending the entirety of the day outside.

“Kostini needs rest, I assume?” I asked.

Riven lifted his head in pained annoyance as he took a break from his smoke.

“That’s rather presumptuous, even for you.”

Kostinisnortedas if he understood, yanking his head forward.

I crossed my arms. I had never been rushed by a horse before.

“He’ll let us know when he needs rest.”

Riven offered me a piece of dry bread and a sip of water from a capped jug before we saddled back up. I rode behind Riven this time, silently drowning out the thoughts of the last few days.

By the time Kostini stopped on his own, the sun was low on the horizon behind us. We had found an easier trail, and there were no signs of anyone following. We’d been traveling through the Eastern Woods to get to the coast. I knew they were barren, but these lands were eerie. Being the height of winter, there weren’t even birds singing or crickets chirping.

As soon as we pulled our bags off, Kostini promptly plopped down with a thud. Riven fed and watered the steed with what he could. He removed his light armor and top layer, revealing a plain black undershirt. Tattoos of flames, swords, and other symbols almost entirely covered his arms. Scars filled the empty spaces, old and fading to white.

He repacked his bag and strapped a bow to his back while I sat against a tree. Blood, black as night, seeped through the wrap on my thigh. Riven offered me our last bandage.

I declined. The wound would need washing soon.

“Stay here and keep watch over our things. I won’t be long.”

I stared out into the forest. “Do you think there are Sapphires out here?”

Riven rubbed his hand along the side of his jaw. “We need food either way.”

I sat quietly as he ventured to find something edible. Riven and I had shared so few words throughout the day that being left alone didn’t feel much different. In fact, I appreciated it, evenpraying that I was truly alone, and not soon to be attacked by Sapphires.

Back against the tree, I listened for any sign of unwanted company.

If Clarke had been worried about the deed's safetyandRiven didn’t want Lord Ansel to know I was leaving, it was fair to assume I must not be seen by even the Drakers, regardless of whether the king himself had released me.

Riven was the only exception.

Not even my existence was lawful on these wretched lands. It did not matter that I was born here, in the castle no less. It did not matter that I’d spent countless hours of my life sewing the very clothes that Drakers wore beneath their armor to keep from freezing their asses off. I was born with blood deemed dark, and if I were to be discovered, I would be punished. Likely with my life.

Being outside of the Wayward's walls did not feel as warm and fuzzy as I’d dreamt it would. It felt dangerous.