Page 25 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)

The return run to Balmirra was merciless.

Although Vallek didn’t keep up the blistering pace for the whole of it, they ran without stopping through the night.

His own legs screamed in agony, but he didn’t listen.

Not when all he could hear was the incessant rumble of his beast, goading him to push on.

It was finally Mattias, ever mindful, who argued for a rest. Vallek allowed it, sensible at least that not all of his berserkers had a damned beast whining for their unclaimed mate—but because of the latter, he refused to stop himself.

Mattias stayed behind with the main contingent to rest while Vallek ran, Ulrich and a few undaunted guardsmen right behind him.

That suited Vallek just fine. He couldn’t have Ulrich running back the other way to the fae.

It was an uncharitable thought, one he never would’ve dreamed of having about his oldest friend a few days ago.

But everything had changed.

Whether Ulrich liked it or not, whether Vallek himself was ready, the beast had chosen Ravenna. There was no denying it, no stopping it; they had to manage.

For Vallek, that meant taking Asta’s advice and working harder to prove to his faeling that he was to be trusted with her every secret. Then he would find out just what in all the hells she’d gotten herself mixed up in. Once he’d filled his senses with her scent, he intended to ask her just that.

He got his opportunity sooner than he expected.

The points of the citadel rose above the craggy horizon, spurring Vallek on. He’d long since reached that disembodied mindset that any warrior had to achieve—else running became a true torture. Disengaged from his body, his mind focused on the approaching city.

All looked well, and his gaze trained on the citadel. I’m coming for you, sprite.

His beast paced agitatedly in his chest, the need to see and hold her overwhelming. So much so, he swore he scented her on the wind, a teasing note of jasmine and clove.

One of his warriors broke out of formation to trot alongside him. Raising his arm, he pointed at the southern edifice of the curtain wall. “My king, is there not something upon the wall?”

Vallek’s stomach dropped to his tired feet. A glance at the wall confirmed there was indeed something about halfway up the wall. Whatever it was, it wore blue fabric that flapped in the slight summer breeze of the early afternoon.

Drawing a deeper breath, he realized in horror, it wasn’t his imagination. Her scent truly carried on the wind.

All-Mother, take me now . What had he done to deserve this?

“Continue to the city,” Vallek barked as he prepared to break off from the group.

“You cannot go alone!” Ulrich argued.

“Continue on,” was all Vallek said in reply, gritting his tusks as he left the flat path to cut across the scrubby, craggy hills toward the southern wall.

A glance behind him confirmed his men continued on as he’d ordered, although Ulrich lagged behind, an unhappy frown darkening his face.

Huffing, Vallek pressed on. This was between him and a certain hellion.

Rounding the wall, more than one green face appeared over the crenellated ramparts, surprised to see their king jogging the perimeter on his own. They called out to him, asking whether he needed aid, but Vallek waved them at ease.

Her scent grew ever stronger, so much so that even with her cloak and human face, as well as being a good twenty feet still up the wall, he knew for certain he looked upon his very own mate. Scaling the curtain wall.

Vallek finally came to a stop directly below her.

Panting hard, drenched in sweat, he planted his fists on his hips and stared up in disbelief at the slim figure currently picking her way down the curtain wall.

The afternoon sun glinted off the little hooks she used to dig into crevices within the mortar and stones, and it seemed not even his arrival nor the calls of the curious garrison had broken her concentration.

He didn’t know whether to be amused or furious, impressed or frustrated. A bit of each, he supposed. Not only had she managed to slip out of the citadel, she’d also found a way past the other walls to climb down the outer wall. Perhaps he should thank her for finding such a breach in security.

Not immediately, of course. Oh no. He was far too furious for that.

She was so high up. She could fall!

She was trying to escape him!

When he finally caught his breath, he sucked in a lungful of air to bellow, “ What in the gods’ name are you doing? ”

Ravenna gasped, pushing herself against the wall when she nearly lost her grip. Clutching her hooks, she peeked over her shoulder down at him.

Her face fell.

“Oh. You’re back.”

Vallek bit down so hard, his jaw creaked. “I’m back.”

Considering him a moment, she added, “This isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Because it looks like you’re defying my orders to stay in the citadel. It looks like you’re escaping my city.”

“Yes. And it’s not one of those things.”

Vallek’s eye twitched. Literally twitched involuntarily. “I’m tired from running all this way to return home to you. Only to find you dangling from the wall.”

“I’m hardly dangling —”

“Explain. In small words.”

She squinted down at him in an almost-glare. “I needed to leave the city. Just for today. I meant to return before sundown.”

“And why would you need to leave?”

“To visit friends.”

Vallek rubbed his eyes with thumb and finger, trying in vain not to curse the beast and gods that saddled him with this vexing creature. She was so small, miniscule compared to an orc—how then was she able to make so much trouble?

“And these friends are…?” He pointed a finger in warning. “Don’t lie to me.”

She pouted. “My friends are…of the four-legged variety.”

All he could do was blink up at her. She was risking breaking her neck so she could go pet some onagers? The hearty mountain donkeys were all over the southern Griegens, and orcs often domesticated them as pack animals when far more agreeable takin goats were unavailable.

Honestly, his little hellion would fit right into a herd of onagers, come to think of it.

“And visiting your friends was important enough to defy me and risk your neck?”

“Well, I have sugar cubes for them, you see. Their favorite. I also haven’t visited in a while, since your loyal lord commander decided I needed to be watched.”

Ulrich was right in that—but watched for an entirely different reason.

Letting loose the longest, most exasperated sigh of his life, Vallek lifted his arms. “Come down now and we’ll discuss this further.”

He very much didn’t like the way she squinted at him, assessing. “I’m not sure I should.” Her gaze lifted to the top of the wall, only to find several curious faces peering down at them.

“Either you come down to me or I come up to you. Which will it be?”

Muttering unladylike curses under her breath, she chose the more dignified route of coming down to him.

He watched anxiously as she descended, deliberately picking the safest footholds.

Vallek wouldn’t have been surprised if she was stalling for time, going as slowly as possible, but he didn’t mind. More than anything, he needed her safe.

Better yet, safe and in his arms.

He got his desire the moment her legs were within reach. Grabbing hold of her calves, he said, “Now let go.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, Ravenna looking down to check the distance, before she huffed and pulled her hooks out of the wall. Falling backwards, she landed with an oomph in his arms.

From the wall above, the handful of guards watching on clapped and cheered.

Vallek bit back his grin. “Back to your posts!”

Deftly snagging her little hooks, he pocketed them as he held her aloft in one arm.

“You can put me down now.”

“Oh, no,” he laughed merrily and perhaps a bit madly. “I won’t be doing that.”

Her eyes went wide in that false human face when she realized—with one swift toss, he threw her over his shoulder.

“I can walk,” she grumbled as he began to jog for the nearest gate.

“Yes, but your legs are small and this is faster.” And he wasn’t sure he trusted her to her own devices. Not yet. Not until he had her somewhere safe and secure that smelled of them both.

Guards at the southern gate greeted him, already anticipating his need for discretion. One female warrior held open the door to the gatehouse for him, and with a nod of thanks, Vallek slipped inside.

Up through the gatehouse they went, catching an inner rampart.

They climbed and climbed, taking a roundabout, quiet path up to the citadel.

Although it spared having to carry her through the city, he’d no doubt news of this incident would spread like wildfire.

Guards were notorious gossips, and the night’s entertainment in all the alehouses and pubs would likely be how their king plucked his human soothsayer off the curtain wall.

Still, the fewer who actually saw her with their own eyes for now, the better.

Not just because he had an undoubtedly impatient Hrothgar still waiting for an answer.

His mate was as yet unclaimed. The bond not fully formed. Until it was, he would guard her jealously, even the sight of her. Even after the bond was set, he might never want any other to look upon her.