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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

B lack strands of hair kept slipping free of my hood and flying before my eyes. We’d been travelling south for two days, finally finding a road several hours previously and using it to speed our progress.

Bastian was stoically silent at my side, his simmering presence leaving me on edge and his heavy footsteps a constant companion even when I tried to ignore the weight of his focus on me.

Because he was focused on me despite his apparent disdain and reluctance to speak, his supposed acceptance of his situation, and the hours which passed without him attempting to act against me in any way. I knew it was only a matter of time.

My Skyforger leathers were packed away in my bag and the icy chill the Flamebringer garb let slip through its seams was setting my teeth close to chattering.

Despite loathing the need to do so, I’d decided we were better off disguised as Pyros civilians while journeying south.

It meant we could move fast, stay out in the open and potentially blend in when reaching more built up parts of the nation.

Though I had to wonder how many men as large as Bastian they had in Pyros and how many women who looked like me – so far as I was aware, there were few Succubuses currently living in The Waning Lands and most of those I’d heard of had been married off to wealthy families who could keep them well clear of warfare or auctioned themselves for small fortunes on a nightly basis rather than engaging in battle.

Still, better I attempt to hide my identity than flaunt it and as such I’d used more of the dye Dragor had given me to disguise the colour of my hair once again.

Smoke stained the horizon as the sun lightened the sky, the scent of a city placing a tang in the air and I sighed.

I had feared it would come to this, though it had been hard to be certain of our location, I’d spent enough time studying the maps of The Waning Lands to have a fair understanding of the major cities and landmarks in all the nations we were at war with.

Leergaith lay ahead of us, the largest of the northern Pyros cities and the one which I had the best knowledge of thanks to its proximity with the border to Stormfell.

“Are we likely to run into anyone who might recognise you if we pass through Leergaith?” I asked Bastian, turning my head to glance at him and gauge the truth of his reply.

“No,” he scoffed like the idea of that was ridiculous.

I pursed my lips. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him but I knew he had far more to say on the subject which he clearly didn’t plan on offering.

I considered our options. We couldn’t swing east because Leergaith extended to the barrier which divided our nations, its high towers one of the most prominent defensive structures on this side of the wilds.

They both spied for the travelling sky islands such as Ironwraith and Rackmere and were heavily outfitted with trebuchets, catapults and the like, capable of launching fireblasts big enough to down the islands should they ever venture close enough to pose a threat.

Vesper.

I frowned, turning my head to look back along the road, certain for a moment that I’d heard my name on the sigh of the breeze and yet there was nothing there to draw my focus, certainly no Fae who might have called out to me. Besides, almost everyone who knew that name had taken it to their graves.

I shook off the doubts that prickled along my spine and concentrated once more on our current predicament.

I’d spent plenty of hours in war rooms discussing the ways in which we might destroy the towers and take Leergaith as a prize of war, but no such plan had ever come close to being enacted.

Taking on a city of that size and might was akin to suicidal regardless of the value its destruction would bring.

So the only way we might avoid the city would be by heading west, taking a route across the rocky, treacherous landscape and travelling for miles and countless hours in the wrong direction.

Even then we would still have to pass over the trading routes which led in and out of the city, the densely-travelled highways which connected Leergaith to Wentos, Hargard and even the capital and seat of The Matriarch, Cinder Vale.

I looked up to the sky, wishing I had enough magic in me to launch us over the city but even that would be an impossible task with so many Fae watching the skies, patrols of Griffins and Pegasuses checking those who passed through and hunting for Skyforgers.

“We’ll cut through the city then,” I decided as if it had been a discussion.

Bastian said nothing, his company dependently cold though I supposed mine was even colder.

Another strand of black hair whipped across my eyes and I caught it, tucking it back into my hood. My fingers were left with a fine dusting of black on their tips and I cursed beneath my breath, knowing the pink would start showing through the dark colour and in stray strands before long.

“We’ll need a cover,” I said to the silence and as Bastian didn’t protest, I went on. “I’ll not have questions over your captivity which probe too deeply. Besides, I don’t want to risk lying where Sirens might sense it and Cyclopses lurk close to pry secrets from unwilling lips.”

“So what are we? Newlyweds, caught up in the rush of love?” Bastian drawled and I scoffed.

“Whores actually. Or more specifically, you’re a whore and I’m your madam. Don’t worry – I’ll fetch a good price for you and sing high praises of your prowess.”

“I won’t fuck a Flamebringer to help fill your purse, little mouse,” he said.

I breathed a laugh. “Oh come, I’m sure there are some lonely Fae who would pay a small fortune to be destroyed in the grip of those strong arms of yours. But do be sure to keep your tongue still, lest the fantasy be ruined by exposure to the dullness of your personality.”

“I can assure you that no Fae has ever wanted me to still my tongue while in the grips of my ‘strong arms’ as you call them.”

I blinked at his insinuation, desire touching the air around me for a moment, a flash of a vision spilling through my mind, the thought of me standing over Bastian while he kneeled before me, his mouth between my thighs, his silver-lit gaze burning into mine.

My skin heated and a growl burned up the back of my throat as I forced the image out of my head and whirled on him.

“What the fuck was that?” I demanded, stepping into his personal space and shoving him in his solid chest, the leather jacket I’d stolen from the Flamebringers for him to wear making a loud slapping sound as my palms connected with it.

He dug his heels in and didn’t move back, leaving us glaring at one another over an inch of mistrust and dislike.

“Do you think I don’t know how your magic works, little mouse?” he purred, offering me a dark smile which didn’t extend beyond his lips. “I’ve toyed with your kind before and I know precisely how to get inside your head.”

He lifted his bound hands and tapped his forefingers to my brow, a flash of imagery pushing into my skull, naked bodies, heavy breaths, gasps of pleasure.

“Stop that,” I snapped, knocking his hands away from me and blocking his nonsense out of my mind with a heavy mental shield. “And if you’re fool enough to think I’ll balk at the idea of sex then I very much doubt you know anything about my kind at all.”

I turned my back on him firmly, striding away and yanking on the rope which bound his hands to force him to pick up his pace too.

Bastian chuckled darkly behind me but I ignored him, yanking him off of the road and setting my bearings to the south west. We would be far better off arriving at Leergaith from the western road where more travellers would join us than marking ourselves out by arriving from the north.

My skin prickled as I led the way into the thick pine forest, pushing between the thorny bracken which clawed its way out toward the chance of sunlight on the road.

I sighed as the meagre warmth of the bright sun was stolen from us by the dense foliage overhead, cursing myself again for wasting my opportunity to fully replenish my magic while I had Fae available to steal it from.

But no, I’d had to lose my shit and fall into the trap of bloodlust, tearing through every available source of power with bloody and brutal precision until I was left spent and empty at the end of it with my one chance at refilling my power for weeks lost.

The Flamebringers’ clothes were far thinner than this time of year and northern location required, but of course with fire running through their veins they were used to heating themselves magically, meaning they didn’t often dress for the conditions.

Air magic could shield against the cold but my people didn’t usually waste power on such rudimentary needs, instead preferring to be prepared for all eventualities and dressing appropriately.

The knowledge that my leathers were secreted away in my pack only made enduring the cold more vexing.

My internal grumblings almost made me miss the distant sounds coming from the road but I was too well trained to ever fully let my guard down. I fell still, straining my ears to listen and turning to look back in the direction we’d come from.

Bastian was watching the road too, both of us tensing as the sound of thundering hooves became clearer, tearing along the road.

A howl followed, then a second, a third.

“Into the trees,” I hissed, yanking on the rope and tugging Bastian towards a towering pine whose wide boughs spread out above our heads.

I assessed the climb, my eyes narrowing as I failed to spot any branches low enough for me to reach but as I backed up to take a running jump, Bastian knocked me aside and moved to place his spine against the trunk instead.

He cupped his bound hands together, jerking his chin at me in command and I pushed my surprise away to propel myself forward instead.

My boot landed in his grasp and he launched me skyward with force.