Page 50

IRIS

As the sun peeks over the eerily hazy mountains, I cut across an overgrown field toward the abandoned teleportation platform. I keep my head down, trying to concentrate on my footing instead of the men stalking at my side.

Shadows part the long grass in my way. Dewdrops glitter in the reeds, but my pants stay dry, and patches of mud bake to a flat path before my feet.

“Your pulse is accelerated,” Remy says casually.

“I wonder why.” I jerk my head toward the bruise-green smudge on the horizon that whines with building power.

Just a glance and I shiver.

The energy feels icy as a river of the damned.

“Really. Is that why?” Remy’s soft chuckle makes my stomach flip.

“Yes,” I answer through my teeth.

I should be worried about monsters and maybe meeting Kevan, if he decides to show.

Instead, my heart beats too fast for the shadows and hellfire rolling out a misty, pink carpet beneath my boots.

“Wife.” An arm sweeps behind my knees.

Vhex lifts me into his arms. My reflexive flail turns into a grab of his bare shoulders.

I know better than to look down. Vhex wears black combat pants, and the weapon holsters criss-crossing his torso make a leather picture frame to show off his eight-pack abs.

Vhex’s grin is even deadlier.

Melted candy.

“Ignore the lich.” His pink eyes bleed to red at their edges, and his soul burns as liquid hot as his voice. “Think about something better. Like me.”

“Stop trying to read what I’m thinking.” I pull my palms away from his heat. Tingles shoot from my fingertips to my elbows.

Our souls are almost united, but Vhex won’t stop trying to claim the last five percent that’s forever out of reach.

“I don’t have to try. I can feel you inside.” Vhex shifts my weight, easily balancing my ass on his arm.

My fingers freeze.

I’m not small, and I work hard for the muscles that keep me alive.

S-class Sentinels can deadlift train cars, so my weight is nothing, but I’ve never been carried until I met Vhex.

I always carried Sentinels.

Once, I carried Kevan through a bog after an ice-fang huldra pumped him full of cold poison and knocked him out. Instead of saying thank you, he flew into a rampage that was also my job to fix. Weeks later, I was still digging peat out of my creases and ears.

Comparing makes me realize how fucking deluded I was.

No amount of effort was ever going to make him care about me.

I know what it looks and feels like when a Sentinel only wants me for my power.

That’s the attitude Vhex and Remy fed me from minute one.

Last night was different.

So is right now. Vhex’s heat bakes the dew off my uniform. Remy’s shadows stroke my ankles while they clear the path ahead.

There’s no bite to their silks.

When they’re not in pain, Vhex and Remy don’t even have demands.

Their souls are all caresses.

If anything, their tendrils nudge because they’re begging me to use them .

Yeah.

I can’t play this game right now.

“Put me down,” I say a little shakily, tapping Vhex’s arm.

Vhex lets me go without a fight, but his stray silks wilt when I jump to the ground.

We’re almost at the teleportation array.

The platform made of stone tiles sits abandoned in an overgrown field. Weeds pop out around the inlaid silver loops that form the complicated spell pattern for long-distance travel.

At every far-flung guard I ever visited on my missions with Kevan, there’s always been a Sentinel posted to send and receive guests.

No need for that here.

The Farguard can’t spare energy crystals to activate outgoing travel. And for basic security, no one can jump to our platform without magical permission.

So, for as long as Sword Major Azrid has been asleep at the wheel, the Farguard has been closed to visitors.

Unless they took the scenic route— by train.

Now, the poorly managed platform is worryingly weathered.

I chew my lip, debating whether I even want the thing to work.

Before I can decide, the array starts to glow. The Farguard badge pinned to my sleeve buzzes.

With a twist of thought, I give the commander’s mental nod— permission to travel through .

I turn to check Vhex and Remy one last time, but they’ve already moved in on me. My nose grazes the lapel of Remy’s uniform. When I jump back, my heels bump Vhex’s boots.

Way too close.

The growing glow of the array glitters in their eyes, but they don’t glance to see who’s on the way.

They watch me.

They want me.

They’ve let me in so deep that they breathe at my pace. I’m not actively guiding their energy, but they both beam me this healed-by-your-presence adoration that claws the back of my throat.

“If you could…” Either stop looking at me, or promise to never stop looking? And actually make me believe it? I shake my head. Insane. “Just let me deal with Kevan. He’s?—”

“An unnecessary existence.”

“About to be paste?”

My lip twitches. I was going to say an arrogant pain in the ass. “He’s a lot of things, but for now, we need him on our side. Don’t start stupid fights.”

“What if he starts shit?” Vhex mutters.

Remy tilts his head, watching me.

When his hair holds on to its human black, he looks like a noble warrior instead of the lord-of-blood, prince-of-starlight alter ego that comes out with the silver and pointed ears.

He wears an outdated uniform dripping in hardware from his previous lives, a waistcoat, and a longer cape that ripples around his shoulders in the breeze.

His silence worries me the most.

Vhex likes asking for permission.

Remy will do whatever he wants in the shadows, then ask for my forgiveness, covered in blood.

“You can’t kill him,” I insist. “We need him battle ready.”

“You’re protecting him,” Vhex says sullenly.

“No,” I answer fast and from the chest. “I don’t do that anymore.”

If anything, I’m protecting you.

“Battle ready,” Remy’s voice warms, but it hides a dangerous lilt. “Understood.”

He and Vhex simmer with the same burn-this-motherfucker-to-the-ground energy.

Great.

That will end well.

I keep a tight grip on their souls as the array shines brighter, resisting the urge to fiddle with the badge on my sleeve.

I’m not Kevan’s shadow anymore.

This is where I belong.

The array burns white-hot when its magic peaks. I shield my eyes against the pop and flashbulb flare of teleportation magic.

As soon as the light fades, I scan the field.

My breath catches.

A hundred-odd Sentinels and Guides stand arranged in orderly lines. Kevan brought the Deathguard.

Only the Deathguard.

They won’t be enough.

My gaze snags on the pale, skinny asshole standing at the front of their formation.

Then my heart pinches into the same cavern where my lungs are pinned, everything inside me smashed flat.

Kevan is thin and muscular, with a cold, sharp face that’s extra severe in his black uniform.

I used to stand behind his shoulder.

My replacement stands in his arms.

“Ugh.” The Guide covers his mouth as he swoons against Kevan’s cape. “Was that our last jump?”

“Yes. We’ve arrived. Breathe. Take your time.” Kevan rubs his Guide’s back. The motion is awkward—he’s afraid to break the smaller man—but that’s why I know it’s sincere.

My body roars hot and cold at the same time.

Teleportation makes everyone motion sick. When I stumbled my first time, Kevan told me, “ You’ll get used to it ,” as I dragged myself off my muddy ass.

I shouldn’t stare. I shouldn’t even look, but my eyes can’t help gluing to the pair.

Kevan’s soul-silks are forever changed.

No more ice blue.

Imprinting turned them green, inseparably woven with the energy of his Guide. I can’t read his emotions or the status of his power.

I never will again.

I catch the Guide’s smirk, half-hidden against Kevan’s chest.

My replacement has big, round rodent eyes and smooth hands; he’s the small, soft kind, who stands at the back of a fight, expecting to be protected.

Or better yet—stays indoors.

Guides from well-connected families never leave the palace.

Who cares if there’s a war?

“People are watching,” the Guide says coyly, hiding his blush in Kevan’s shirt.

A shadow twirls my ring finger, and a blast of heat bakes my cheek.

Vhex and Remy aren’t tuned in to the soap opera.

Their eyes and souls are on me.

Always.

Something loosens inside me.

“Duke Kyorgos.” I greet him with a rank-appropriate nod, proud of how clearly my voice comes out. “Our scouts have sent updated enemy positions. Let me show you the map. I’ll explain?—”

“You?” Kevan asks archly. He takes in the grassy platform and dilapidated base in the distance. Then his gaze flicks to the Sentinels at my back. “Not them?”

My boot heel cracks through a layer of baked mud.

Kevan’s voice is always the same.

Cold, deep, and sharp—especially when it’s pointed at me.

His eyes are the same, too. That deep, glacial blue.

I knew they were cold.

I don’t know why I never noticed their contempt.

“They’re mine.” I twist my arm so that everyone can see my badge. “But you can talk to me. I’m acting as the Farguard’s commander. Let me?—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Kevan tucks his Guide under one arm, then reaches to me and flicks his fingers. “Give me the badge.”

My heartbeat echoes in my throat. “ That won’t be necessary. You manage your guard, I’ll manage mine.”

“I spoke with the palace.” Kevan draws himself back, showing off the long line of his aristocratic nose.

The bone-pale tinge of his skin makes him look ill when he starts to draw his power; that’s the cost of necromancy.

But when he’s not wearing his lich skull, he’s noble to the core.

“I’m here to determine the truth of your reports in my capacity as a general of the Eastern Legion.

You have many skills, Iris, but command is a stretch of your capabilities. ”

The air whooshes from my lungs. “My capabilities? ”

From the Deathguard ranks, a Sentinel mutters. “Oh shit.”

“Maintain order,” Kevan barks.

Violence ripples at my back.