Page 38 of The Sol Crown (Fractured Lights #1)

T he carriage carries us as far north as it dares, grinding to a halt at a weather-beaten outpost just shy of the border.

Beyond this point, no road continues, only jagged wilderness and the shadow of the mountain range that divides our world from Imperia.

No animal or vehicle can make the ascent; the terrain is too steep, too unforgiving.

It will take us three days just to climb the smallest peak and descend to the other side. From here on out, we’re on our own.

Our packs are heavy with everything we might need—shelter, layers of insulated clothing, food supplies, and medical kits. At least this time, we won’t be forced to scavenge like we were in the forest. We’re prepared.

Or as prepared as anyone can be when stepping into a land as unfamiliar and hostile as this.

The ride was quiet, most of us drifting in and out of sleep thanks to the brutally early start.

Junie’s head lolled gently against Sam’s shoulder as the carriage rattled along uneven tracks.

Only Sam, Stone, and I stayed awake, our eyes trained on the shifting terrain outside, each of us scanning it for different reasons.

I’ve never been able to sleep once we pass beyond the castle’s protective borders.

It wounds me to see the cracks in my kingdom—whole villages hollowed out, fields turned fallow by war and neglect.

Yet, in the same breath, some towns still stand tall, vibrant with life and stubborn hope.

The people of Aladria are among the bravest I know, so resilient in the face of ruin.

I live for the day we can restore Aladria to what she once was. Maybe even more than that.

The carriage groans to a stop, and the doors swing open with a creak that jolts the others awake.

Limbs stretch, and joints crack in the cramped space as everyone stirs.

I rise to my feet and drop down to the earth, my pack thudding heavily against my spine.

It’s a weight I’ll need to grow used to, and quickly.

“Need me to carry anything?” Sam asks quietly beside me.

I shoot him a look, one brow raised. He smirks, reading it perfectly—there’s no world in which I’m not carrying my own pack.

The gates of the outpost stand open, and the steady thud of boots against packed earth signals the arrival of the rest of our team.

Davin strides forward first, shaking hands and greeting them with ease. I recognise most of the soldiers from training days; they’re solid recruits, now seasoned fighters. But it’s the general who draws my attention.

Gio De Luca wears command like a mantle, as if he were carved for it. His broad shoulders are wrapped in dark, worn leathers that have seen battle, his fitted chest plate etched with the Aladrian army’s insignia, gleaming faintly in the morning light. His movements are fluid, controlled.

His hair is swept back with deliberate carelessness, and his square jaw is dusted with a few days’ stubble that somehow makes him look even more put together.

Scuffed leather gloves cover calloused hands, and a well-worn longsword swings at his side in a sheath faded with use.

A few old scars peek from beneath the collar of his tunic.

And then his eyes—deep, unreadable brown—land squarely on me as he approaches with the others from the unit .

Deacon leans in close, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. “Did he get hotter?”

“Shut up,” I snap back under my breath.

As Davin strides over to make introductions, I’ve already made up my mind—it’ll be easier if Gio and I pretend we don’t know each other. Cleaner. Less awkward. Simpler for both parties.

We move down the line, shaking hands with the soldiers. Recognition flickers in their eyes as they greet me and Deacon.

“General De Luca, this is—” Davin begins to introduce me.

“We’ve met,” Gio cuts in, voice calm, neutral.

My head snaps toward him. So much for pretending.

His gaze meets mine, steady, indecipherable, carved from stone.

Whatever flicker might have passed between us is buried under layers of discipline.

But that single comment is enough to draw the attention of everyone around us.

My team turns to look at me, brows raised, questions forming in their eyes.

I drop my gaze quickly, guilt rising like a slow burn in my stomach in Gio’s presence.

But then he straightens, and I’m reminded exactly why he’s the youngest general Aladria has ever seen.

“We leave at sunrise in thirty minutes,” he announces, voice crisp, commanding. “That’s thirty minutes to eat in the mess hall and use the facilities. Make the most of it, as this’ll be the last comfort you get until we reach Imperia Castle.”

He gives a sharp nod to Everett.

“Right, follow me,” Everett calls, already turning.

The mess hall is bustling, packed with soldiers grabbing their meals before heading to their shift or crashing after a night’s work.

Noise and heat press in around us as we queue for food, trays clutched in tired hands.

I load mine with everything I can, silently mourning the meals I know are about to be replaced with dried rations and stale bread.

Junie nudges me just as I drizzle honey over a steaming bowl of oats.

“So,” she says, voice low, “how do you know Mr. Tall, Dark, and Ridiculously Handsome?”

I glance back at her over my shoulder and whisper. “Remember that general I used to date?”

Her eyes go wide. “No shit!” she shouts.

“Shhh!” I hiss, but she just laughs.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

My brows knit. “How so?”

She smirks, already stepping out of the line, tray stacked. “Let’s just say… Stone didn’t look too pleased when the general’s eyes were all over you. Can’t wait to see how he reacts when he finds out those hands have been all over you, too.”

She disappears into the crowd before I can respond, leaving me with a plate full of food and a mind full of chaos.

* * *

The thirty minutes go quickly, and the sun is little more than a pale smear on the horizon when we gather at the base of the mountain range. Frost clings to the ground in jagged, glittering streaks as I glance up.

“This is the shortest trek to ascend Riftspire,” Gio states, standing with his back to the trail that winds upward. “But shortest doesn’t mean easiest. The terrain is tough. At times, it will require climbing with the ropes on our backs and abseiling descents. We must stay together at all times.”

Everyone nods. After months of training, eating, and bleeding together, there’s no way we’d leave anyone behind.

“Last chance to turn back,” Davin says as he stands beside Gio and looks us over. No one moves. Then he nods. “Right, let’s go see the king about some fruit.” He claps his hands and turns.

As we start the trek, no one says much. The weight of what lies ahead settles over us.

The outpost behind is the last echo of civilisation—what we’re heading into now is only rock, snow, and sky.

The Northern Spine rises ahead, and the snow resting on top makes it feel less like we’re climbing a mountain and more like we’re stepping into another world made of ice.

And I fucking hate the cold.

Gio leads from the front, thankfully carving the path as I settle somewhere in the middle.

He didn’t want things to end between us; that much was clear. He left two days after I broke up with him last year without a goodbye, and I haven’t seen him since. But I couldn’t keep stringing him along. It wasn’t fair to him or me.

Gio was a great partner—kind, generous, gorgeous—but something was missing. I never felt the need to tell him the truth about who I really am. Never felt the urge to see him after a long day. He was warm, he was safe, but he wasn’t for me.

And if the involuntary reaction I have to Stone has shown me anything these past few months, it’s that I made the right choice.

“Are you staring at his ass?” Deacon nudges me, nodding at Gio, who strides ahead, expertly navigating the uneven terrain while pulling the supply sledge. Soldiers will take turns hauling it while we all carry our packs.

I sigh but concede. “It’s a very nice ass.”

“You regretting your decision?”

“No. It wouldn’t have been fair to him when I didn’t love him.”

Junie huffs behind me. “It’s very early for such deep thoughts and feelings, Elina.”

I laugh, and Stone’s head spins my way from near the front. Just one look, and my whole body ignites. His eyes feel like a caress, warming me in a way no fur-lined cloak ever could.

And that invisible wire, that pull toward him? It’s still there. Stronger than ever. I’ve never felt anything like this for anyone else. Never once did I feel this way, have this uncontrollable reaction for Gio.

He smiles softly, and my heart skips a full beat.

That smile is dangerous. Stone is dangerous.

But Gods help me; I want him just as much as I hate him.

We walk for hours. At first, idle chatter keeps our minds busy, but the incline quickly turns cruel. Worn trails give way to narrow ledges barely wider than a footstep. One wrong move could mean a fall that no one survives.

The wind screams across the higher ridges, and I tug my mother’s cloak tighter. We move in a single file, heads bowed against the cold, speaking only when necessary. Even then, our voices are ripped away by the wind. I curse the Gods for creating such a brutal border to our neighbouring kingdom.

We stop only briefly to snack on dried fruit and drink warm tea. To linger too long means to freeze, so we keep moving.

Hours pass in a haze of aching limbs and clenched jaws. Then Gio lifts his hand as we reach a sheltered cave, the sun now dipping behind the mountain’s peak, causing the cold to deepen.

“We’ll rest here tonight,” Gio says, gesturing toward the cave where we will be safe from the strong, icy winds. “We’ve climbed enough for day one. You’ve all done well.”

His gaze sweeps over all of us but lingers on me, assessing for injury with a scrutiny he doesn’t give anyone else.

Gio’s eyes suddenly narrow at something behind me, and I feel him before I see him.

Stone steps up to my side—close, too close—and Gio notices.

His eyes lock onto the space between our bodies for a fraction of a second, and there’s a flicker of anger and maybe disappointment there before he masks it, turning away to unpack the shelter supplies.

Two soldiers build a fire, and Sam joins them whilst Trent and Deacon prep food. I’m about to help when Stone touches my hand lightly.

I look down as his calloused fingers curl around mine, and I pull away.

“What is it with you and trying to hold my hand on assignments?” My voice is sharp.

He frowns. “I just wanted to check if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Stone. You going to check on everyone else, too, or am I a special case?” I cross my arms over my chest in aggravation. I hate the thought of him thinking me weak.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice is firm now. “I’m always going to check on you, Red. And it’s not because I don’t think you can cope. It’s because you matter to me. You’re special to me. ”

I scoff. “Is that what you tell Roxianna, too?”

His jaw clenches. “If you’d let me explain, I would’ve told you—I ended things with her after the assignment.”

“Good for you.” I clap once, slow and sarcastic. “Too bad I’m all out of medals.”

I take a step closer, heat and anger rising like a symphony.

“How about you let me explain something. While we were stuck in that Gods-damned forest, I spent the whole time wondering what it’d be like to be with you beyond it.

And the worst part? I thought you were thinking the same.

You looked at me like you were. You touched me like you were.

All that time, I let myself believe it meant something.

But you—” I choke on the words, voice sharp, eyes burning.

“But, you were in a fucking relationship.”

“Elina,” he breathes my name, softer now. He lifts a hand towards me as if to touch my jaw, but stops himself, letting it fall between us .

I don’t wait. I turn on my heel and walk toward the fire, kneeling beside Junie to help with the bedrolls.

Let him feel the cold for once.

* * *

I’m perched on a fallen log, a cup of steaming soup between my palms. I’m mostly using it as a hand warmer. Even with the fire roaring and the cave shielding us from the worst of the wind, I’m still bitterly cold.

Aladria is always warm, even in the depths of winter; it’s balmy. The chill at night is a whisper compared to the slap of cold we’ve had to contend with climbing this mountain.

I picture the castle—my home—perched on the cliffs, golden and sun-drenched.

The sunlight hits the towers just right in the mornings, and the sea below glitters like spilled jewels.

I can almost taste the salt on the breeze, feel the sunbaked stone under my bare feet, the kind of heat that wraps around you like a blanket.

Vines draped over balconies, training grounds humming with life, people bustling from room to room.

The fire cracks, snapping me to the now—to the frozen ache in my shoulders, the stiffness in my fingers. And I rid myself of my vision just as Gio lowers himself beside me on the log, a cup of broth in his hands, eyes fixed on the flames.

“Thought I should come say hi properly,” he says, voice low.

“Hi,” I say, glancing his way with a small smile, and he chuffs a laugh.

“How’ve you been, Elina?” He shifts slightly, turning toward me.

“Well, I joined the army.” I lift my arm and motion to all of… this.

He smiles warmly. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“And you? I’ve heard nothing but glowing tales about ‘the youngest general in Aladrian history.’” I mimic a royal accent, and it earns a real laugh this time.

“I’m doing well. It’s been good, throwing myself into something like this. Gave me something to focus on when I left.”

Ah. There it is. The unspoken thing sitting in the middle of our camp like a guest no one invited.

I clear my throat, about to say something, but he cuts me off gently.

“No need, Elina. Don’t explain. Gods, please don’t apologise again.” His eyes are soft, but there’s a hint of old hurt there. “My ego can only take so much.” He smiles, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes making it easier to breathe.

“Well, it’s good to see you again, Gio. I have missed you, you know.”

“Just not in the way I missed you.” He drops his head and chuckles under his breath. “Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. Forget it. I’m gonna go check on the others. Enjoy your soup.”

Then he’s gone, leaving a strange ache in his wake.

And when I glance back at the fire, I see them—ocean blue eyes staring at me from across the flames.

Watching.

Filled with a jealous possession he has absolutely no right to feel.