Page 49

Forty-Nine

Ayna

I wake to the swaying of a carriage, the motion so familiar I want to vomit. The stench of blood and sweat fills the plain cabin large enough for four where I’m stored on the floor between the two benches. My head swims with dizziness, my vision sluggish as I scan the narrow space, the worn gray curtains drawn in front of the windows. A crimson trail runs along the scratched wooden bench on one side, indicating I must have laid there before I slipped to the floor. No one else, whose blood it could be, is in here with me. This means that, at least, there’s no one witnessing my weakness as I come to.

Every last inch of my body aches, most of all the area at the side of my collarbone where the arrow of fire pierced through my leathers, the shirt beneath still sticky—either I’m still bleeding, or it hasn’t been long since Ephegos hauled me off the battlefield and hit me over the head like a barbarian. A shiver rakes through me as the cold leather presses against my chest, and I reach for my head, stifling a groan as I rub the tender spot right over my ear where the pommel of Ephegos’s sword struck. On the bright side, that saved me having to look at him and wonder whether he’d kill me after all and declare the bargain moot.

The smell of urine climbs into my nose as I shift to my hands and knees, and I realize the freezing, wet sensation isn’t coming only from the blood drenching my front but I peed myself. Great.

Telling myself it doesn’t matter, that it’s probably for the best I’m gross and reeking when Ephegos or his minions check in on me, I ignore the shame. If Myron could see me this way, he’d rip someone’s head off.

A whole new surge of pain followed by a bone-crushing sadness assaults my chest at the thought of what I had to do to buy him and Kaira a chance at escape—and by that a chance to rally the rest of Eherea to work together against Erina and his betraying-ass general.

Like another hit to the head, the moment in the clearing rushes back to my memory, and the threads of magic locking the bargain I made with Ephegos in place tug and pull like they are asking to be recognized.

I’ll be yours if you let him live. I swear not to try to return to his Crow Court if you let Kaira go as well. Alive. The bargain is valid as long as you promise to never lay a finger on either of them again.

Even if I want to tell myself I didn’t mean any of the words, I did. To save them, I meant every last letter, even if our future has been inevitably altered by my decision.

I want to reach out to Myron through the bond, make certain he’s all right and I can still feel him, but a part of me is too much of a coward to face the wrath of the Crow King. I hope he listened carefully, though. Perhaps he’ll be able to forgive me for my choice. At least, he’ll live. It’s all I can ask for. And so will my sister. Together, they’ll find a way to raise an army large and powerful enough to smother the full force Tavras will be throwing at us soon enough.

At them, I remind myself. Tavras won’t be throwing anything at me when I’m compliant with the bargain. Perhaps this little feat will have the side effect of sowing mistrust between the Tavrasian King and his general. In Erina’s eyes, I’m still his bride and his ticket to an eternity of unchallenged rule for the Jelnedyn bloodline, so Ephegos’s claim might create conflict that I can use to aid my family in the fairylands.

On instinct, I reach for the thread of magic connecting Myron and me and startle as my palm glows with warmth, the mate mark shimmering ever so slightly.

Still there. He’s still there and the bond untarnished. Even the magic-nullifying drug cannot dim the bond. A thin smile spreads on my lips, followed by a tear rolling down my cheek.

I’m here, Myron. Sending the thought down the bond, I wipe my face with the back of my hand, the arm still braced on the floor buckling at the emotion blazing through the path between us in response.

Love. So much love. And despair.

I have no idea where Myron is or whether his injuries from the battle have healed, but I know he’s alive and he felt me.

I love you. It’s the last thought I allow down the bond before locking away every last feeling that could be used against me by Ephegos and his minions. The moment the traitor Crow opens the carriage door, it won’t matter how much I love my mate or that I wish I could go back in time to save him in a different way. All that will matter is my strength of will and my ability to suffer.

With a sigh, I heave myself to sit on my haunches, reaching for the curtains with a shaky hand, drawing it back an inch—just an inch, a gap so small no one will notice, and I’ll be able to orient myself before they realize I’m awake. Outside, bright stars and a heavy moon illuminate the crop-less fields covered by night. On this side of the carriage, not one tree is visible far into the distance. Instead, barns and sheds are scattered across the landscape, none of them close enough for me to reach should I manage to escape this carriage.

Because when I offered the bargain, I promised not to try to return to Myron’s court, but I never promised not to try to run.

I can’t help the sense of smugness at that thought—and the terrifying uncertainty whether the magic of bargains understood my intentions when it spilled into the universe to bind me to the one Crow who has caused so much misery among my court.

Careful not to make any noise, I turn around to check the other window. Maybe we’re still close enough to the forest for me to disappear in the thicket. I don’t have my full powers at my disposal, but the way my fingers find the wound by my collarbone almost sealed when I reach beneath my leathers tells me the drug is wearing off and they’re recovering fast.

The ache in my limbs makes it a challenge, turning on my knees and crawling for the other window. With a shaky hand, I manage to shift the curtain just enough to peek through, though, and my heart kicks into a gallop at the sight of the forest’s dark silhouette. If I make it out of here and reach the tree line, I might actually get away.

A shadow moves outside the window a moment before the carriage stops, and the door opens so fast I can’t pull back the hand braced against it. Like a stone, I tumble out the gap, croaking a sound of surprise as much as terror as a pair of arms catches me a split heartbeat before my face could meet the ground.

“Well good morning, Ayna,” Ephegos chirps, my stomach instantly turning at the knowledge of who kept me from crashing onto the frost and gravel just a few inches beneath. He folds me back into the carriage, heaving me onto a bench, then climbs in after me.

Tracking his every move, I press as far into the corner as I can, bringing distance between us while he settles on the bench across from me, his signature warm grin faltering as his nostrils flare at the stench inside the cabin. “You could have given a sign that you need to relieve yourself.” The emotionless tone tells me he couldn’t care less that I’m squirming from embarrassment, but he considers it an inconvenience anyway that his conquest smells like pee.

Instead of coming up with explanations, insults, or even excuses, I opt for silence, buying myself time as he tries to figure out how to get me to talk. I have a thousand questions, though. Like where are we? Are we headed to Meer? Will he hand me over to Erina or keep me as a toy? Will he eventually kill me? And what will he do to me before it comes to it?

It doesn’t matter what he’ll do because you’ll get out of here before he can harm a hair on your head. I want to tell myself that it is Myron’s voice in my head, or even Shaelak’s. I’d settle for Vala’s, too, but it’s my own weak thought that lingers in my mind. My hope . How I despise that thing with its tendency to shatter me completely every time I dare harbor it.

“Aren’t you going to spit some of your vile words at me?” Ephegos leans back in his seat, bracing one hand on his hip where his sword hangs at his side. It’s obvious he doesn’t trust me despite the bargain. Good—because I don’t trust him either.

I don’t give him a single grunt.

“Oh Ayna… I’d imagined such a sweet reunion for us.” His head tilts as he studies me with half amusement, half disdain. “Of course, in those imaginations, Myron was always there to make things worthwhile.”

“You mean to make him bleed for your revenge?” The words are out before I can make a conscious choice, I can’t help it. So much for the silent treatment.

That costs Ephegos a mild chuckle. “I wouldn’t have insisted on blood,” he tells me graciously. “I’d have settled for pain. ”

My stomach turns at the mere thought of Myron being tortured by this vile male, but I put on a brave face, sticking with the path I chose in the forest. “Good I made that bargain then.” It’s a small reminder of what we agreed upon in the clearing, and Ephegos’s grin indicates he believes he already won this battle because I chose to go with him. He doesn’t realize how deliberately I chose my words back then.

“Good, Ayna. A very good girl, that’s what you are. And a very good Crow, Tata tells me.”

The moment of smugness passes at the mention of the traitor fairy, and my mask slips, allowing Ephegos to read from my face the fury at how Tata sold us all out.

“Yes, Ayna. I know everything from your useless attempts to change back into your human form to Shaelak’s little revelation of his involvement with your ancient ancestors.” When I don’t respond, he leans forward, rye blond hair swishing over his shoulder as he draws the sword and rests it across his knees, ready should I try to make a move. “You have the God of Darkness’s blood, Ayna. The God of Crow’s blood, to be more specific.” Now he’s the one who’s smug, that grin returning and staying as he observes me backing farther into the corner. “Tata told me all about your bloodline and how you chose immortality.”

Instead of confirming, I wipe my hands on my thighs, reminding myself that Ephegos will leave this carriage again, and I will take a better look at what’s out there. I’ll wait until the opportunity presents itself, and then I’ll run. “Tell me, Ephegos, what other stories did Tata tell you?”

Two fingers gliding along the flat of his sword, Ephegos observes my every movement, every blink as if waiting for a sign of my powers. Thank the gods my leathers are covering up most of the healing wound, or he’d know I’m not entirely helpless anymore, even when my strength isn’t exactly what it should be. Damned drug.

Stall. Don’t let him see you’re recovering.

I rest my head against the wood next to the window, faking a dizzy spell.

“Oh, Tata tells me everything. How do you think we found that traitorous merchant lady and her lover?”

Lover. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but when I think back of the way Pouly always looks at Andraya, I can’t help but recognize the adoration.

Fluttering my eyelids, I let my shoulders slump a little more, pretending to be drowsy.

He leans in even closer, breath washing over my face in a hot, cinnamon-scented gust. I don’t dare cringe away. “We’ll ride through the night and the entire day tomorrow before we rest. Sleep while you can, Wolayna. Erina is waiting for us.”

My chest seizes, but I breathe through it. It doesn’t matter that I want to claw Ephegos’s eyes out. Right now, I’m too weak to even land a scratch. I know it, and he most certainly knows it, too. All I need to do now is fool him into still believing it when my powers return more fully and I’m ready to run. I’ll have one chance. One tiny, fickle chance. And if I don’t make it then, I can tell my hopes goodbye.