Page 29

“Are you insane?!” Maeva yells, pointing to my tall, black shadow horse.

It’s barely past the early mist, and she’s already grating against the small amount of patience I actually have.

I expected her to be shocked at first when she learned that we could summon our own steeds, but I hadn’t expected for her not to comply.

Shadow horses are quite different from other specimens outside of Zulgalros in the fact that they are an extension of their riders’ signets.

To injure a rider is to injure a shadow horse and vice versa.

Most outside of Zulgalros are already leery of shadow horses–especially mine–as his head is nearly a foot above the others, including my cadre’s horses.

Riordan, Virgil, and Laisren are already on their mounts, but I can feel their smirks radiating through their helmets as they watch this tiny woman throw a tantrum… ov er a horse.

Most women—Malvorian and Galrosan alike—love horses; however, she isn’t an ordinary woman.

No, I had to get stuck with one who is feral.

“I’m quite sound of mind, Miss Cale,” I reply.

She cuts her eyes from me to the horse, then back to me again. If dark ocean eyes could catch aflame, I’m sure I would’ve been incinerated by now. “Then you are insane! How do I even know if that—” she says, waving her hand in my horse’s direction, “—thing is safe?”

My mount snorts.

“I can assure you that this is perfectly safe, but you may want to mind your tone. Danté is quite sensitive to falsehoods,” I reply.

“Danté?” she asks.

“The horse’s name is Danté,” I sigh. “Yes, he has feelings and responds like any other creature. No, he isn’t going to fade away the moment you try to climb on his back…

unless I tell him to. ” I murmur that last bit lower than the rest, but I’m sure she heard it based on the daggers she’s mentally throwing at me.

Danté nudges me with his nose and whinnies. “Stay out of this,” I whisper to the meddling beast, turning my attention back to the feisty woman.

Maeva pushes a few strands of her messy waves from her face.

Now that she’s bathed and doesn’t smell like a bloody swamp urchin, she’s quite breathtaking—annoyingly so.

“If I ride on Danté, what will you ride?” she asks, looking around.

“I see no other horses. Are you planning to climb on with one of your cadre?”

Riordan disguises a chuckle as a cough.

My eyes close to slits.

She knows exactly how to push my buttons.

“On Danté,” I say tersely. “I’ll ride on Danté with you.”

Her round eyes widen. “Not in all the powers of Celestae will that happen,” she scoffs. “You will conjure another beast for me.”

“No,” I say, matter-of-factly.

Her jaw is slack as she rolls her eyes .

“Yes,” she snaps back, stomping her foot.

She really thinks she will get her way with that kind of behavior?

Siorai, spare me!

“Are you now resorting back into adolescence?” I ask.

“If that means I won’t have to ride on a horse with you, then yes,” she replies.

“We do not have time for this,” I groan.

“I won’t summon another horse for you because that isn’t possible.

There’s only one horse per signet, but I suppose you wouldn’t know that.

Besides, for all I know, you’ll try to flee, and I can’t allow that to happen.

So, either you can allow me to be a gentleman and gracefully help you onto Danté’s back…

or I can make you. The choice is yours, Rosey. ”

As expected, the nickname causes her cheeks to redden. “My name is Maeva,” she bites out, clenching her hands into fists.

“I don’t care if your bloody name’s Petunia,” I quip back. “You’re going to get on Danté, so we can at least make it somewhere safe before nightfall. Unless you’d rather take your chances with the beasts in the woods, Rosey .”

Her features are so tight I could probably fit two silver coins between her eyebrows and they’d stay. “At this point, I think the woodland creatures might be more welcoming,” she replies.

I can’t begin to explain the satisfaction it brings me to know I’ve gotten under her skin, but alas, this game must end.

“Get. On. The. Bloody. Horse,” I say, my jaw clenched tightly.

“General,” Riordan interrupts, “perhaps we?—”

“She’s riding with me,” I snap at my third commander, cutting off what I’m sure was his kind offer to allow her to ride with him. “End of discussion.”

Her dark eyes bear into mine as her lips twitch just a fraction. “No,” she whispers.

Well, I tried.

I’m done waiting for her to be reasonable.

If she wants a fight… So be it .

It only takes a few steps for me to reach her. Though she’s tiny in stature compared to me, she has a way of looking down at me over the bridge of her nose. She must truly believe I will just accommodate her.

Oh, how sweet. Rosey seems to always underestimate me.

I lean down, barely a breath away. “I tried to warn you,” I say.

Then, before she can register my words, I wink and haul her over one shoulder.

She flails around like a trapped pixie, cursing and demanding to be released.

My lips tip up ever so slightly. Thankfully, my helmet keeps my features hidden, so no one knows just how amused I am by her antics.

“My, my. Do you always use such colorful language?” I ask.

“Put me down this instant,” she demands, slamming her hands against the back of my armor.

Her attempts are quite humorous. I might’ve allowed her to continue on her rampage if I had more time or patience—however, I’m out of both.

We need to make it to Delereauh before nightfall if we want to escape the possibility of running into the demons that roam at night.

“As you command, Rosey,” I say.

Then, I raise us both onto Danté’s back, setting her down in front of me on the saddle.

“How dare yo—” she starts to say… That is, until I reach around her, grabbing hold of the reins.

I urge Danté into a canter before she attempts to jump off.

Riordan comes up on my left, Laisren on my right, and Virgil rides on the flank.

I look down and find her gripping onto the saddle horn as her knuckles turn white.

There’s a slight tremor in her legs and shoulders as she glances at the ground moving beneath us.

“What is it, Rosey? Are you scared of heights?” I jest.

“No,” she retorts. “I’ve just never been on a horse before—especially not one as large as Danté.”

If I could pinch the bridge of my nose, this would be the most opportune time.

She’s giving me a headache with the whiplash of emotions she’s currently experiencing.

I should make Danté go faster just to continue to get a rise out of her, but my mother taught me to be a gentleman.

So, I slow Danté down to a light canter, which allows her hands to relax slightly.

“Why in all Celestae would you desire your own shadow horse if you’ve never ridden before?” I ask.

“The answer is quite simple, High General,” she replies. “I simply didn’t want to ride on one with you.”

I laugh because what else can I do?

It’s not that I’m not used to hearing others’ fear or hatred of me, but something about the way she says it makes the knife twist a little deeper.

The sound of what she assumes is my amusement causes her to level me with a glare that probably makes Siorai tremble.

“Do you truly despise me so much that you’d risk your own safety?” I ask.

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. Then she turns her attention back to the road ahead.

“Why?” I ask, unsure if I want to know how she views me.

“If you truly wish to know, you represent everything that’s immoral and cruel. You blindly serve a king that only wishes to see destruction. So, forgive me if I don’t desire to cozy up to the legendary High General,” she retorts.

My chest tightens as her words hit their mark. She sees me as I’ve always seen myself: a destroyer. Yet she doesn’t cower before me or grovel for my approval. She states her opinions of me so unabashedly, and I can’t disagree.

“So I’m legendary?” I jest, dismissing my feelings. “No wonder you were stunned by our arrival.”

“Your ego is insufferable,” she states flatly.

“Perhaps, but at least I’m not blinded by my own prejudices,” I reply.

“Despite what you might think of me, I’m not immoral.

I wasn’t given a choice in becoming a monster, but at least I know what I am and don’t run from it.

You’re hiding your fears behind your family’s deaths because perhaps you’re afraid that deep down you’re a monster, too. ”

“I’m not hiding, nor am I like you,” she says, her voice warbling .

“The fallen soldiers’ families might disagree with you,” I deadpan.

She pauses for a long moment, drumming her fingers along the saddle horn.

“Were you?” she asks.

I swallow down the knot in my throat.

My mind always returns to my first assignment.

The first time I had to take a life will haunt my dreams for all my years:

The color draining from their eyes.

Their screams ? —

Stop.

“We all have darkness within us, Rosey,” I say, clearing my throat. “But it doesn’t have to be who we are.”