Page 32

E mily

The weight of the silence presses in on me as I watch Vrok stand motionless, his gaze locked on the tracks in front of us. His usually sharp expression is unreadable, but I can feel the tension radiating off him like a storm about to break.

The reality of what we’re seeing slowly sinks in, tightening around my chest like a vise.

Lily’s alive, and the bad guys have her.

A cold shiver of dread runs through me despite the heat from the sun beating down. I should feel relief. She survived the anuroi that took her, and she made it out of the nest alive. But the footprints trailing into the jungle tell another story. She’s not free. Not yet. And she’s still in danger.

My fingers tighten around the little scrap of purple fabric clutched in my hand. It’s torn and stained, but I recognize it. It’s from the t-shirt she was wearing. I press it against my chest as if it can somehow bridge the distance between us.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I want to say something to cut through the heavy silence and break the tension. But no words come out.

Instead, I watch Vrok as he studies the tracks, his eyes tracing over their path. His jaw is clenched so tightly I almost expect to hear his fangs grinding together. For a moment, I wonder if he’s angry. But then he looks up, and when his gaze meets mine, I see something else there.

Not anger. Not frustration.

But uncertainty.

It’s a flicker—there and gone in a heartbeat—but it’s enough to make my breath hitch. Vrok is never uncertain. He’s a warrior, a hunter, and a protector. But right now, he looks like a man standing on the edge of something he doesn’t quite know how to face.

He exhales sharply, his nostrils flaring wide. His gaze flickers back to the footprints before he turns to me.

“I failed you.” His voice is strained and quiet.

The words hit me harder than I expect. I shake my head, stepping closer. “No, Vrok. You didn’t.”

“I did. You trusted me to find her, and I was too late.” His hand reaches up and he runs a finger along the scrap of fabric still clutched in my hand. “She was taken from the nest, probably not long after she was left there. And I didn’t get us here soon enough. She’s been in their hands for days.”

His voice falters, low with guilt. “If we’d been faster. If I’d been better, we might have reached her in time.”

Guilt is written in every line of his face, and it’s a different kind of weight pressing down on me now. Not just fear for Lily, but for the burden he’s placing on himself.

I reach out and rest my fingers lightly against his thick wrist. “She’s still alive. That means there’s still hope.”

Vrok looks down at where my hand touches him. Then, slowly, he turns his hand over, and threads his fingers through mine. His grip is firm and warm.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks. “I will find her, Emily.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles in a slow, deliberate stroke, sending a tingle through me that settles in my lower belly. “For you. I swear it.”

My throat tightens. I nod, gripping his hand back.

I believe him. Because I know when Vrok makes a promise, there’s nothing that will stop him from keeping it.

He releases my hand, his fingers trailing away slowly as if he’s reluctant to let go. Then, his focus sharpens, and his warrior instincts take over. He steps forward and crouches to study the tracks, brushing some leaves away.

“They’re older than I’d hoped,” he murmurs, tracing a finger over the disturbed dirt. “They took her at least four days ago.”

He pauses and his eyes narrow on a deep impression in the soil. “There were two Tussoll warriors, and…” His jaw flexes as he glances up at me. “One Pugj.”

A chill runs down my spine at his words. “Are you sure?”

He points to a deeper, wider set of impressions that bear the distinct mark of long claws. “I’m certain.”

My stomach twists with apprehension. The Tussoll were bad enough, but the Pugj? If they took Lily, she’s in more danger than I thought. We have to find her.

“Where do you think they’re taking her?”

“Most likely toward the Tussoll village. They didn’t try to hide their trail, so they should be easy to follow if their destination is different.”

“They’ve got a head start,” I say, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “But we can still catch up to them, right?”

Vrok rises and scans the edge of the jungle. “If they were headed to there, then they’ve probably already arrived.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go,” I say immediately.

His silver gaze snaps to me. “Emily?—”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me to stay behind,” I interrupt, my voice more confident than I actually feel. “Because that’s not going to happen.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. His mouth opens, then snaps shut.

A muscle jumps in his jaw before he gives a short, firm nod. “Stay close.”

Then, without another word, we follow the tracks into the depths of the jungle.

We track the footprints for hours until the sun sinks lower in the sky, but still the heat of the day presses in thick and unrelenting.

At some point, we cross into the Tussoll tribe’s territory. I don’t know how Vrok knows, but his gaze becomes sharper and he keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword. We weave through thick undergrowth, across streams and narrow ravines, over jagged rocks and thick, tangled roots.

I do my best to keep up, but the muscles in the back of my legs are screaming and sweat slicks my skin, puddling under my breasts and in places there shouldn’t be sweat. But I keep going.

The prints are faded in places, rain-smudged and partially obscured by fallen leaves, but Vrok reads them like a book. A scuffed heel here, a snapped branch there. Each detail guides us forward.

He barely makes a sound as he moves. His silver gaze is sharp, noting every slight change in the terrain around us. Every so often, he stops, crouching low to brush his fingers over a print.

And each time, my heart leaps, hoping he’s found something that means we’re getting closer to them. That maybe, just maybe, he’s wrong and they’re just ahead of us, just out of sight. But his tight, controlled expression never changes.

And with every step we take, frustration builds inside me. We’re days behind them. They have Lily, and we don’t know what they want with her.

Vrok stops suddenly, crouching beside a trampled patch of vines. “They’re still on foot and still heading south.” He glances around and his gaze seems to sharpen.

“Toward the village?”

He nods tightly. “If they have reached it, it will be more difficult to rescue her.”

The thought of Lily in that place, surrounded by enemies, makes nausea co?il in my gut.

But just as I open my mouth to ask another question, my foot snags on a root hidden beneath the underbrush. I stumble with a sharp gasp as I begin to fall, but my downward trajectory is stopped by the strong arms that catch me.

Vrok.

His arms wrap around me, pulling me against him. And that’s all it takes for every memory from last night to come roaring back into my mind. My breath picks up as I remember every touch, every kiss.

“You’re exhausted,” he says quietly.

I start to shake my head, but he’s already glancing up at the quickly darkening sky through the canopy. “We need to stop for the night.”

“No,” I protest, heat and frustration flaring in my chest. “We can’t stop! She’s still out there?—”

“Emily.” My name said in his low, rough voice wraps around me, steadying me even as it tightens something in my chest. His hands slide gently to my arms and his thumbs brush over my skin in a way that makes me shiver.

“I know you don’t want to stop. I don’t, either.

But we need to rest. You won’t be able to help her if you’re too weak to stand. ”

He’s right. I hate that he’s right. But I also hate how good his hands feel on me, how close he is, how easy it would be to lean into him. To just let go and forget everything.

My voice comes out smaller than I mean it to. “I don’t want to lose her.”

“You won’t,” he says softly. “We won’t.” His grip tightens for a moment, just enough to let me feel his promise. “But we need our strength to take her back.”

I know he’s not really talking about himself. The Laediriians are built different from humans. Vrok could probably follow the trail all night long without resting. He means me.

Reluctantly, I nod.

He points to a large boulder a few yards away. “There’s shelter nearby.”

I follow his gaze and notice a symbol carved into the stone’s face. It’s a triangle, its edges have been worn down by time, but they’re still distinct.

He steps closer, tracing the symbol with his fingers. “This indicates a cave with a cache nearby.”

My breath catches. “A cache?”

Vrok nods, his silver eyes flicking to meet mine. “Supplies. Left behind by hunters or warriors in case they need them.” His gaze shifts back to the jungle around us. “Most likely from the Tussoll tribe, since we’re on their territory.”

He steps around the stone and begins pushing through a tangle of thick undergrowth. I follow, branches tugging at my clothes and hair. The jungle around us hums with unseen life and the air is so humid here I feel like I’m breathing through a wet blanket.

Then, he abruptly stops.

Nestled against a slope, partially veiled the sweeping branches of a short tree, is a pitch-black, narrow opening in the hillside. He steps forward first, drawing his blade in a silent motion, as he ducks inside.

I hesitate. Just for a second. A prickle runs up the back of my neck, some old primordial instinct whispering don’t go in there , but I shove it down. Vrok’s already inside, and I’m not about to be left out here alone.

I duck in after him.

The air inside is cool and dry, a welcome change from the thick, humid jungle. I take a long breath in, letting the musty scent of the cave settle in my chest. Bioluminescent moss clings to the walls, casting a soft blue and green glow that almost seems to dance around the chamber.