Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

My stomach is trying to eat itself. It growls louder than a lykin and I wake in a ball. As I open my eyes, I meet another set that I have only just begun to familiarize myself with.

Evander has a slight smirk on his face. His attention darts to my stomach. I sit quickly and narrow my eyes at him.

"Hungry?" He stretches languidly.

"Obviously."

Evander sniffs. "It smells like Aurora or Bardulf has already begun taking care of the matter."

I mirror his action. There's a faint aroma of charred fish on the air.

"Let's hope it's Aurora." I retrieve my satchels from the corner of the tent, glancing into the bags to make sure all my rations are there.

"I didn't steal from you while you slept." Evander props his head on his knuckles, lounging.

"For your sake I hope not." I give him a sidelong glance.

"So feisty, even first thing in the morning. Where do you find the energy?" Evander snorts. "And you shouldn't hope it's Aurora. For being mortal—more or less—for thousands of years, you'd think she would've learned how to cook."

I slowly slide one strap over my shoulder, then the other. The way Evander speaks about her is almost fond…friendly. It's juxtaposed uncomfortably with the image I first had of him, jeering at a tied-up Aurora.

"What is your relationship with Aurora?" I dare to ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"She's the moon spirit, I'm a knight of the wolf king, I keep her safe," he says simply, placidly. The answer sounds practiced and void of sincerity. "I don't covet her, if that's what you're getting at."

"No? You wouldn't want to claim her and be king?" The words are as bitter as ash in my mouth.

"I assure you, I've little interest in being the wolf king. It's not a role with longevity."

I turn to study him. I can't shake the feeling there's more that he's not saying. But I'm not going to pry. Yet .

Evander doesn't stop me as I leave the tent. But his eyes do follow me as I maneuver around him. He lies back, allowing me to half crawl over him to depart.

The moment I'm free of him, I fill my lungs to the brim, exhale tension from my shoulders, and cross to the bonfire. It burns as brightly as it did last night, which is even more impressive when I realize that there is no fuel for the fire—no wood or coal. It blazes in a divot of sand. I must've been in quite the state, indeed, to have missed the impressive aura of magic that surrounds the flame. Spirit magic, no doubt.

"Good morning, Faelyn." Aurora rounds the flame, handing me a fish on a skewer. "I asked Gruvun if he was willing to bring us some food and he obliged. If my stomach was growling, I knew yours would be, too."

"Thank you." I take the skewer. Evander was right, Aurora seems to use "burnt" as seasoning. But it's sustenance and allows the rations in my bag to last a little longer untouched. Giving us more supplies for when we do run. I tear into the crispy flesh of the fish to the white meat below, taking care to pick any larger bones out with my teeth, tongue, and fingers. "Bardulf?"

"Still sleeping, I believe." Aurora takes a bite of her fish as well. "Evander?"

"Awake, but apparently he likes to lounge." I glance over my shoulder and back at the tent. There's no sign of the man. "I thought you weren't an early riser?"

"I am when I want to have a word." Aurora's voice drops to a hush. "Was it all right last night?"

I'm returned to my exchange with Evander—the revelations of the first wolf king and Aurora. Her fate being intertwined in such a cruel way with the lykin originating from a good and pure emotion. The feeling of Evander pulling me to him whispers across my skin. His scorching heat. The overwhelming nature of his presence enveloping me, his rough hands cradling mine as he growled his words into my ear.

"He's a brute," I say quickly, before my face heats. "But he didn't do anything untoward." Not really? I'm still fighting shivers of the memory of him at my back. It's been far too long since I was last touched. There's no shame in admitting that it felt good, is there?

"Good." Aurora breathes a sigh of relief.

"He did tell me some of the lykin's history," I admit. "And yours."

She chews a moment, longer than necessary for fish. "Can't really have their history without mine, can you?"

"I admit to asking questions. My curiosity got the better of me… I'm sorry for prying into your past without you there. But…" I squeeze her shoulder and meet Aurora's dark eyes. "I would like to hear your story from you, whenever, if ever, you're willing to share with me. I am sure what you have to say is much more the truth of the matter than anything Evander would tell me."

"I will tell you whatever you desire to know." Even though she says that, her weighted tone and adverted eyes say otherwise.

"When you're ready," I reiterate. Aurora shrugs, as if that is a small matter. It is not, and I would have her know it. "You have endured too much and have had too much forced upon you. I will not be another person making demands for things that you're not ready to share, or do not wish to give."

She simply stares out across the strait. There's a numbness to her gaze, an unfocused quality of her eyes. Aurora steps away and takes another bite of her fish, saying nothing. I worry I've upset her. But even if I have…I've said nothing I don't believe to be true.

"Aurora."

She finally brings her attention back to me.

"I mean it," I say, as gently as possible. "All of it. Even what I told you back at the cottage." I will do everything I can to free you. I don't dare say those words aloud, instead keeping them in my heart. Hoping she can read them from my expression. Hoping that, somehow, she can feel them if nothing else.

The air between us is heavy and still. The night's chill is leaving thanks to whatever fire spirit they have called upon for the bonfire and the rising sun scaring away the cool dew. She opens her mouth to speak, but is interrupted by Bardulf emerging from his tent.

"And just what are you two doing? Scheming?" His voice is thick with sleep, still, and lacks its usual bite. But that doesn't mean the warning isn't there.

"Breakfast." Aurora finishes her fish with one large bite and tosses the wooden skewer into the bonfire. I follow her lead.

"And what about us?" Bardulf crosses with purpose. "Where are our fish?"

"In the sea?"

He grabs her elbow. "Well go get them for us."

"Let her go." I close the gap and grab his forearm, glaring up at the man.

"You. Let me. Go. Before my patience and kindness wears thin." He bares his teeth at me.

"I have no idea where this ‘kindness' of which you speak has been." I narrow my eyes and don't move.

"You're breathing, aren't you?"

"Careful, the bar is so low you might trip."

Bardulf snaps at me, teeth slamming together so hard my own are stinging.

"All of you, let each other go." Evander is up. He throws his pack into the sand in front of him and begins to pull down his tent. "It's too early for this."

I keep my attention on Bardulf. "You first."

"You," he quips back.

Aurora rips her arm from Bardulf's grasp, which must've slackened while he was distracted. I release the lykin as soon as he no longer has his hand on her. I keep near Aurora as Bardulf goes to dismantle and roll up his own tent. Evander is already working on Aurora's. His tent has been condensed into a canvas bag identical to what he's stuffing Aurora's into.

"Are you all right?" I whisper to Aurora, hoping the flapping of canvas and Bardulf's unnecessary grunting with every movement distracts him and Evander from our conversation.

"I've endured worse." She gives me a tired smile. It doesn't offer me any comfort.

"Right, then." Evander slings the two canvas tent bags over his shoulders. "Faelyn, you'll be with me."

"For what, exactly?"

Rather than answering me, Evander shifts into his wolf form with a small hop. The tent bags and his personal pack vanish into the form along with his trousers. Bardulf follows his lead.

"We ride them," Aurora explains.

"I'm…sorry?" I look between her and the wolves.

"It's faster than walking." She starts for Bardulf.

"Would you like to—uh— ride Evander, instead?" I fight laughter at the absurdity of the question. Must my mind really venture to the most inappropriate of places?

Aurora bites her lower lip, holding back a chuckle. She must've known where my thoughts wandered. "He wants you on him." A snort escapes me. Her grin says the phrasing was on purpose. "Bardulf is fine with me. At least in this form they can't speak."

Bardulf's lips peel away from his teeth in a snarl. But he doesn't snap or change his form.

"Yes, that's much improved, indeed." I cross to Evander, who looks back at me from the corner of one large, silvery eye. I'm sure I'm imagining it…but I think I see amusement alight. I can't stop a slight smile. Though the expression falls from my face the moment I look to the wide swath of fur before me.

The inky blackness of Evander's coat mirrors a midnight sky on a moonless night—the same color as the wild tangles of his human hair. Unlike Bardulf's pelt, not a single streak of gray mars its dark expanse. My hands hover over the glossy fur, vaguely aware of Evander still watching me intently.

The gentle tickle of his soft pelt greets my palms as I finally make contact. It gives way to firm, unyielding muscle beneath. His ribs expand with a deep inhale. For some reason, a smile tugs wider at the corners of my lips.

"Are you all right?" Aurora is already perched on Bardulf's back, riding astride.

"Yes, sorry." When Evander eases his stomach to the ground, I take a fistful of fur and swing up awkwardly, ending up flat on my belly. One leg doesn't make it quite over. I shimmy, wriggling until it does and I'm astride as well. If I hurt Evander pulling on his fur to get into position, he makes no indication of it.

"You'll get used to it," Aurora manages to say through a giggle.

"I don't have much experience riding anything." I wriggle my hips, trying to settle into a comfortable position. It's odd to feel a living, breathing creature underneath me. One that isn't—now my cheeks are burning.

Luckily, Evander saves me from myself as he lurches forward and all I can do is hold on for dear life.

My hips are moving in one direction and my torso in an opposite one. I imagine I have all the grace of the fish I ate for breakfast after it was pulled ashore. When I try too hard to lean forward, I find I tip more side to side. Too far back and I'm off-balance constantly.

The world is a blur as I try to find the right combination of holding on tight enough that I don't lose my grip, while also being loose enough to move with Evander. As the initial panic of being tossed off subsides, I begin to pay attention to the ripple of his muscles. The strength that courses through his firm body. How every shift betrays his next movement.

My fingers sink into the fur by his neck. It's coarse and thick, giving me ample to hold onto. I begin to move my hips in time with what I predict his motions to be. One front foot before the other, back legs pulling in with almost a galloping motion, rear haunches rising and falling, one hip forward, then the next.

It's somewhere between running and leaping. Every step is a half jump—a push and pull. Each muscle pushing to give forward momentum.

The tall grasses of the expansive plains blur into an undulating, emerald sea. As I gradually adapt to riding on wolf-back, my senses are no longer consumed by keeping myself astride and I can drink in the breathtaking beauty of this new land. The horizon stretches unbroken, a pale blue dawn in serene harmony with the streaks of green and yellow that rush past. The expansive panorama renders me small. With every heartbeat, I'm swallowed by the untamed and hazy landscape.

A smile splits my lips. The wind whips my rusty hair against my face, teasing it out of the thick braid I pulled it into yesterday morning. Dawn has come in earnest as the sun breaks the distant, still horizon behind us and casts everything in a brief but sweetly honeyed glow. Even as the sun rises, it doesn't chase away the morning fog.

I unfurl one fist and shift my hold with the other. Tightening my legs to steady myself, I tip sideways and reach into the grasses, which are tall enough to brush Evander's stomach. If I were to stand, they'd almost be up to my waist. The blades tangle with my fingers, kissing my palm. Magic surges up my arms.

"Spirits of fields?" I ask. The grass shrinks away and I grab nothing but air. "Of grasses?"

The whole meadow suddenly ripples out from us in rings, like a stone thrown into a still pond. Suddenly the blades of grass thread through my fingers once more.

"Grasses, then!"

"Are you making friends?" Aurora calls over.

"Perhaps? If they would like to be my friends?"

Another ripple is my reply.

"Lovely to meet you…"

"Farah!" Aurora answers for the grasses. "Their name is Farah."

"Lovely to meet you, Farah!"

As if on command, the path ahead flattens. No longer does the flora smack at the faces of the wolves. Rather, the grasses and wildflowers weave themselves into a carpet that unfurls before us.

"They like you." Aurora smiles in my direction, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

The wonder I've felt turns sour with guilt. This is not a delight for her. It is not an exploration into a bold new world of magic—one that had only ever existed in storybooks.

This is a return to her prison. It is a place of pain. The one place she wanted to go anywhere but.

I will save you , I vow again.

As if she heard me, Aurora's eyes meet mine once more. They widen slightly. I give a slight nod. One she returns.

It takes a half day of streaking through sweeping plains before I see anything that resembles civilization in the distance. Large, six-sided tents are erected, rising into points at their tops, with small flags waving in the breeze. They are surrounded by smaller tents of all shapes and sizes—wedge tents like those Evander and Bardulf travel with, and larger ones with canopies that stretch out before them. They all have three crimson bands stretching up one of their sides.

Before we can get too close, three wolves rush out from the encampment. One is as black as Evander. The other is white, laced with silver. But the one in the center is the largest. It has an all-too-familiar set of fierce eyes that cause the day's warmth to flee the moment his gaze lands on me.

The one in the middle leads the charge. He leaps forward and lands as a man. Evander and Bardulf are beginning to slow also, and, with the world no longer reduced to a blur, I can make out his features.

He's a handsome man with lightly tanned skin. Tall. With long, dark, brown hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck. Like Bardulf and Evander, he wears no shirt. His skin has been adorned with an intricate tattoo of a wolf's paw in the center of his chest. Around his brow is a circlet made of fangs, woven together by wrapped silver. It is a thorny crown that gives an uneasy edge to his overall appearance.

Evander and Bardulf come to a stop. Aurora slides down and I follow her lead. Luckily Evander doesn't change back to his human form immediately. The bones of my legs seem to have become jelly and I rely on his sturdiness to keep myself upright. As soon as I release him, the lykin takes a step and sheds his fur for skin.

"Aurora, what a relief it is to see you." Conri, king of the wolves, I can only assume, goes to her. He grabs her elbows and kisses both her cheeks, as though she is a long-lost friend returned.

The motion isn't returned by Aurora. If anything, she has gone completely rigid. She stares numbly, straight through the wolf king.

"You have no idea how much you worried me when you left like that." He wraps an arm around her shoulders and ushers her toward one of the two wolves that had run at his side. "Now, come, let's get you bathed and dressed properly."

Aurora digs in her heels. "I'm not going anywhere without Faelyn."

"Faelyn…" His attention swings to me. But Conri's arm is still around Aurora's shoulders in a possessive stance. "Yes, I had been intending to ask why my two best knights somehow thought it wise to bring a human to our lands."

"Not quite a human, a witch," I dare to correct him.

"Ah, so then we don't need to worry about the withering taking your life, as your body is already accustomed to, and linked with, the magic of this world. Good." The way he speaks, I don't think he actually believes that to be good. I don't think he cares about me at all. Which, oddly, might be preferable. But the longer he looks at me, the stiller he becomes. Comprehension lights up his expression. "You are the witch in the woods from that night…yes, I know that cape. You are the one who took my Aurora."

"I gave her shelter when she asked," I say curtly, pulling my cape around me tighter for strength.

He inhales deeply and exhales with a serpentine smile. "You know, this was all a misunderstanding. You thought Aurora needed help." She did , I want to scream. But I keep my mouth shut. "You looked after her, and now she is returned safely to me. I am feeling generous, this day. I think it is best for you to go back to your woods, little witch. Thank you for allowing me the option of hunting her, Evander, Bardulf. But I do not desire it. You may return her."

"My liege, there is more," Bardulf interjects.

"It can wait." Conri waves at Bardulf, as if the imposing man is little more than an annoyance. "Aurora, the ring. Now."

Her eyes turn toward me, and I can't ignore the fear that fills them. My throat goes thick and I swallow twice. I try to stand a little taller as Conri follows her stare. I'm not going to cower with a metaphorical tail between my legs.

"You." The wolf king closes the gap. This close, I can see the ring of black that lines his silvery eyes. He moves faster than I can react, his hand flying up underneath my chin. His fingers grab either side of my face tightly, forcing me to look up at him. "Do not try my patience, witch. I can be a generous man, but I am not without my limits. If you have the ring, give it to me now, and I will still allow you to return home with all your flesh intact."

"I destroyed the ring," Aurora declares, loudly. The two lykin still in wolf forms recoil back. Bardulf looks away in shame. Evander's expression is impossible to read. Though it is completely, and utterly, focused on me.

Conri's fingers go slack, but he doesn't quite release me. "You… what? Aurora, I don't think I heard you."

"I destroyed it," she says bluntly. "I went to a grove of one of the great redwood saplings—one that links to the redwood throne and all the way back to the Lifetree of the sirens, where the goddess of life resides. I begged for her to return my power and set me free."

The wolf king releases me, spins, and is upon Aurora in a blink. He grabs her shoulders, shaking her, growling, "You would dare to abandon your oath?"

Aurora ignores the mention of her "oath," instead saying, "I broke the ring on the wood of the redwood, but my powers didn't return to me. I doubt they could so long as I'm in this form—too much ancient magic for one mortal body to handle; only an old god could restore it properly. So the magic found a new home.

"My magic, my essence, lives in her now, Conri. So do take care not to tear her flesh from her bones. She's of far more value to both of us alive and well."

The king staggers back. He looks from person to person, as if searching for someone to have an answer. Expression shifting from shock, to rage, to numbness. Finally, his eyes land on me with an emotion that I can't quite make sense of.

The wind whispers through the grasses. Somehow, that solitary, quiet breeze reminds me of just how alone I truly am in this strange new world.

"Evander, take Aurora to her tent and tie her up. Ensure that she doesn't get away again." At the order, Evander shrugs his pack and tent bags from his shoulders. One of the other wolves comes to collect them, taking the straps between her teeth.

Aurora takes a step back. "No, I, Conri, please?—"

Evander grabs Aurora, throwing her over his broad shoulder. She kicks and screams. My stomach churns.

"Don't. Please. Conri, I won't run," she pleads. "I swear it, so please don't tie me up."

Conri doesn't turn—his eyes are fixed on me.

"Bardulf, take the witch to my tent, bind her, too, and then summon my generals so we can decide what will be done with her."