Page 28

twenty-eight

Gideon

“ B ring me back the girl, Gideon!” That’s all he said. No more and no less.

The king does not understand the game he is playing, and that works to my advantage.

As soon as I relayed the information of the songbird fleeing the castle with a fae companion, he bid me go solo to find the girl. Fenrir is his favourite drinking buddy and general good-time friend, so he was not willing to part ways with my brother as well, even though the stakes are higher with the fae involved.

So, just as I predicted, I am on my own to fetch the songbird.

It’s a pity he did not mention anything about a solid timeframe or how I should treat the girl. Like last time, the king does not understand the nuances of his compulsion. He is a fool, just like the others.

As soon as he gave me his orders, I walked out of the receiving room. I did not want to hear more of the king’s anger-fuelled ramblings.

So, here I am, free to wander my way across the northernmost forests of Haven, sniffing out the sweet vanilla-honeyed scent of the songbird. I decide that shifting won’t be necessary since I am taking this journey in my stride. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

A grin splits my cheeks. It has been an age since I’ve been outside of Haven, and my wolf form itches to run. Maybe when I hit a wide-open space .

Heading closer to the shore, I find the songbird’s sweet smell stronger, not bogged down by other scents as I found when I’d scaled the mountain.

The villagers, I surmised, had gone with them—the songbird and her fae male—considering they had also taken for the mountains on the same night. She is helping them somehow, but she has separated from them with the fae. That sunshine smell is hard to miss, especially when it pairs so well with the sweetness of the songbird.

“ Bonded, ” the fae had said. I look towards the sky. I’ve seen bonded crumble at the hands of one another. Bonded means nothing when you’ve lived an eternity .

The quiet forest reminds me of another time. A time spent in liberation with my brothers. Where we ruled this land. A land governed by monsters until they took it from us. They said it belonged to them. He said he created it for us, for the ones like us until it was stripped away.

They called us unnatural. “No one should live forever but the Gods,” they said.

But it turns out there is only one way to kill us: betrayal. No God deserves our faith in them. They only seek to control us for their own means. I learnt that a long time ago.

With the faithless humans controlling us, I used to see methods in their madness. Now, I see it’s just madness, and they are no better than the Gods themselves.

This songbird intrigues me, though. She has been right under my nose this whole time. She sings the Goddess’s song but does not understand its repercussions.

Suddenly, I hit a field where her scent only just lingers in the air, and the steely smell of animal hits my nostrils—a horse. They are rare creatures. Castor holds the last one born in Haven.

Looking out at the opportunity before me, the niggle deep within takes hold.

A gruff rumble enters my throat at the notion of running in this open field, and I cannot stop the compulsion of the beast within.

My wolf form breaks free, and I’m off—running, bounding, leaping through tall, willowy grass.

Nothing else matters in this moment but the release in this form and the soft notes of vanilla sweetness on the wind.