Page 75 of The Frost Witch (The Covenants of Velora #1)

We were already dressed and waiting when the acolytes came for us at dawn. I was not about to be dragged through another gate without having a chance to rinse out my teeth and relieve myself. Whatever Garrick and Alize’s reasons, they were ready as well.

I refused to acknowledge Alize at all. She looked the same as she had every other time I’d seen her.

Her cropped brown hair curled slightly around her face, complementing her golden skin.

A faint luminous glow seemed to emanate from her, even in the darkness of the tunnel, as the acolytes led us out of the temple.

I knew it was the fae magic beneath her skin.

Aurienna’s warning echoed through my mind as we walked. I was no closer to deducing what it meant, but some halting instinct told me that it had to do with Alize. Or maybe that was just my well-honed hatred for the fae coloring my judgment.

Still, I found myself hanging back, taking up the last position of the three supplicants. Garrick frowned at me, but with Isanara at my side, he let it pass.

I rolled my eyes. Welcoming him into my bed did not equate to granting him any sort of hold on me.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hush. I need to speak with Tomin.”

Isanara must have approved of that, because she didn’t argue.

I slowed my steps until I fell in line with the grinning acolyte.

We’d never explicitly been instructed not to speak during this ritualistic march from temple to gate.

The need to speak to him superseded any reservations about how Varian might react.

She was all the way at the front of our little procession, anyway.

“Any tips?” I asked, returning Tomin’s grin with a smaller smile of my own.

His smile dimmed slightly. “I have never been to the Memory Gate,” he admitted.

The words he did not say hung in the air between us. In his twenty years serving the Seven Gods, no one had ever made it this far. I’d suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed made my stomach drop a few inches.

“If it is anything like the other gates, I would guess that it will have something to do with my worst memory.” I’d had plenty of time to think about what the Memory Gate might entail while Garrick carried me through the mountains.

Tomin did not argue the point. His emerald green robes shifted as he moved, tentatively reaching out.

I did not flinch away. “In the oldest texts, Zeph is not just associated with memory but also with change.” He laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

“We cannot alter the past, but we can determine how our memories impact the future.”

That was a lot of wisdom for someone who had not yet finished their third decade.

I blinked back the surge of moisture that flooded my eyes. When that did not work, I settled for freezing the tears before they could fall.

I lifted my own hand and covered Tomin’s, squeezing him back. “I was the youngest of three sisters. I never knew what it was like to be an elder sibling. But if I’d been gifted a younger brother, I would have hoped for one like you.”

Tomin’s honey-cold eyes widened, then it was his turn to blink back emotion.

He was much better at it than me. I recognized the cool mask of composure that he slid into place not as a rebuke, but his way of managing the wave.

I did us both a favor and released his hand and turned my attention forward, fixing my gaze on the center of Garrick’s back.

A few minutes later, we emerged into a narrow gorge. The two mountains that had framed the temple now rose up on either side of us, leaving a narrow, flat pathway between them. But even that ended a few yards farther on, the way blocked by a swirling, sparkling black mist.

It reminded me more of a nightmare than a memory. Maybe it was because that is what most of my memories were.

“You enter together,” Varian instructed.

We moved into place, the steps now well-rehearsed. Alize wore her mask of beautiful, unbreakable composure. Isanara wove between my legs, reminding me that no matter how much I begged her to wait outside of the Memory Gate, we were inextricably linked.

Garrick did not bother with subtlety. He curled his hand around mine, drawing me closer to his side and leaning down. I rose on my tiptoes to meet him, our mouths finding one another with an ease that should not have existed after only two months.

I expected a brief kiss, a touch point to anchor us as we headed into the unknown.

But Garrick’s mouth was fierce on mine, his tongue diving deep inside of me, claiming me with each broad stroke.

I matched him. If he claimed me, then I claimed him as well.

For this brief moment in time amid the centuries, for seven gates, we belonged to each other.

We would survive the Memory Gate.

Alize grumbled in the background. But Garrick did not relent. Only when he had explored every curve of my mouth did he finally retreat, the fervor ebbing to slow, savoring licks. He nipped at my bottom lip before pulling away just enough to speak.

“Are you ready, witch?”

My power surged in answer. “Yes.”

Hand in hand, we stepped into the abyss.