Chapter 34

A n array of cheeses was being passed around, and there were different liquors depending on who you sat next to. The smells of bourbon, whiskey, rum, and wine all lingered in the sweet night air. They'd roasted meat on a fire Emara had started with her own hands. It was good to see her laughing with the clan, accepting them as much as they accepted her. The men didn't get overly involved with the wives of clan, but she was no ordinary wife-to-be.

Sybil was buttering bread as she sat on a log next to the fire. Lorta and Kaydence sat beside her, a woven blanket around their laps, each taking turns to dish out the food. His mother had come along too—she would never miss Torin's union—but she was already in her tent for the night. Gideon's eyes fell back on Sybil. The trees around them seemed to develop more colour as she sat next to them. More flowers started to bloom, even at nightfall, and the sweet smell of cut grass and honey drifted over from where she perched.

Sybil was also an empress, yet here she sat, cutting bread. Something hitched in his chest.

Although Gideon had had a fair amount of food, he wasn't sure if Sybil had eaten anything yet. She was probably too busy helping the men to take anything for herself. Using his small steel tray, he gathered a few cubes of cheese, a selection of whatever meat was left, and wine before sitting down on her log. The heat from her body touched his arm as he nestled beside her.

Kaydence and Lorta gave one look at each other and then moved quickly away, mumbling about helping Emara.

"Bread?" Sybil asked him.

Gideon shook his head, offering her a polite smile. "Sybil, have you eaten anything yet?"

"I will." She nodded. "Just after I make sure everyone else has had something."

Typical earth witch, always putting everyone else's well-being before her own.

"Here." He handed her the small tray of food. "Eat this; I will take over the bread. I think us hunters are capable enough to cut through a loaf and butter it." He smiled at her as he removed the knife from her small hand. "They've probably all had more than enough anyway."

She took the tray of food from him. "I just like to make sure everyone has something to nourish them."

"Well, how are you going to nourish everyone when you are not nourishing yourself?"

Her nose wrinkled and the freckles across her cheeks danced. A small breeze blew embers up into the air, and she combed a hand through her hair, leaving a curl bouncing across her face. "You shouldn't worry about me, Gideon."

He placed down the knife and bread that he hadn't even attempted to cut yet. "What kind of guard would I be if I didn't worry about your well-being?"

A moment passed between them, and Gideon was sure there was a little flush in her cheeks. It was probably just the warmth of the fire.

"I was going to ask…" Sybil's voice brought his gaze away from the enchanting flames. "Instead of sleeping in my tent tonight, I thought maybe we could sleep out underneath the stars."

We.

His heart pounded.

The way her skin caught the attention of the moon was staggering, soft and creamy, like it had been blessed by the Goddess Rhiannon herself. For a brief moment, he envisioned them lying together under the stars. "You mean like sleeping out close to the fire for more heat?"

Her blush-coloured lips pulled into a curve. "No, I mean like wild camp, Gideon. Sleep under the stars with some rugs." Her stunning mossy eyes lit up, and Gideon found himself wanting to agree immediately. "We never got the chance when we were travelling to the Amethyst Palace because of the icy conditions, but since it is close to summer solstice, I thought we could."

We.

Again.

Gideon looked across to where her other guards sat talking, Arlo with Kellen and Marcus with a kid who had newly passed his Selection.

Gideon didn't want to burst her bubble. "Arlo would probably say yes, but I don't know if Marcus would be happy with that."

She leaned in close, causing Gideon's heart to stammer. "We don't need to tell him. Besides, you would be with me. No risk, right?"

Gideon's pulse hammered in his neck, and he found his tunic almost too tight. No risk.

Her smile was brighter than the moon herself, and he found himself grinning back at her. "Tell me, Empress of Earth, what other mischief do you get up to behind the backs of your guards?"

She let out a small giggle and she took a cube of cheese in her hand. "Maybe I could show you tonight, beneath the stars."

The knife tumbled from Gideon's tray and hit the ground. The shy flush on Sybil's cheeks told Gideon that she knew what had come out her mouth was not how she had meant for it to sound. He leaned down to pick up the knife and placed it back on the tray, a little more flustered than he would have liked.

He cleared his throat.

The Wolf Moon had a lot to answer for. Even he could feel its effects. He was her guard, for Gods' sakes.

He leaned closer. "I won't tell Marcus if you won't," he said, stealing a piece of meat that she hadn't touched.

"I love when you get that glint in your eye."

Her words took his breath away.

"What glint?" he asked, his voice rough.

Her lashes swept up, and the look that burned from underneath was pure, unintentional seduction. "The one that appears when you feel like living for something other than the hunt."

Her words smacked his chest again.

"It doesn't happen often, Mr Serious." She nudged him, and a tender laugh escaped her. "But when it does, your eyes glitter and your features relax into something…wonderful."

Again, no air could make its way in or out his lungs, and he could feel an energy running through his spine that was sparking all sorts of forbidden feelings.

"Anyway, thanks for the assortment of foods." She stood, placing the tray down on the log. "I am going to head over to my tent now, but I trust you will come and find me when everyone else is asleep." Delight crossed her face and something prosperous danced in his heart. "See you soon, Gideon Blacksteel."

He watched her as she veered over to Arlo, who rose to follow her to the tent. The younger Stryker took up post, and he could hear Sybil telling him that Gideon would relieve him soon before she disappeared behind the fabric of the tent. With a large exhale, Gideon's gaze was back on the fire that reminded him so much of her hair.

As the night drew on, hunters trickled off to find their bed beneath the stars or stand guard. Gideon had watched the embers burn down as the camp turned silent. Hushed breathing could be heard over the hooting owl in the distance.

Kellen still hadn't turned in yet. His younger brother sat on a faraway log, nursing a glass of wine. His eyes were heavy, and it was clear he was doing anything he could to stay awake.

Gideon made his way across the clearing.

"What a wild few days, huh?" He sat next to his youngest brother on the soft forest floor, and even as the stars burned bright in the sky, Gideon could still feel the summer heat clinging to his skin.

"I don't think wild even cuts it," Kellen whispered as he took a sip of his wine, spinning a dagger through the fingers in his other hand.

"No, it doesn't." Gideon pulled his knees up and clasped his hands around them. "I prayed to the Three-Faced God for you this morning, especially when Torin told me that you were telling everyone today about your Dreams."

Kellen's lips pulled down and arched an eyebrow. "And how did that go? Did she listen?" He stabbed the dagger into the ground.

"Who knows?" Gideon drove a hand through his hair that was messy from the salty Tolsah Bay air. "I suppose everyone took your news well."

"Careful, brother. Every time we think we are getting on our feet, something else happens." Kellen's eyes lingered on the blade too long before a yawn broke through. "I can't remember a time when things have changed so much."

Gideon nodded as he glanced over at Kellen.

The baby of the Blacksteels was a baby no more.

His jaw was more defined, his arms were bulkier, and his eyebrows pulled down into a scowl. The paleness of the moon's glow highlighted the lilac circles under Kellen's haunted eyes that told Gideon he hadn't had a proper rest in days. Kellen had always been different, gentler and more refined.

Gideon's voice was soft and gentle as he said, "I am proud of you for letting us know what you are. It was brave of you." He cast his gaze up to see Kellen's nostrils flare in apprehension. "You are a member of this family, our blood. The old legend of the seer is not going to change your course in the clan. It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?" Kellen finally looked up. "Because we both know that is not true. If I were not Torin's brother, I would have been dismissed from my post, treated like I had some sort of plague for hunters. Don't pretend. I am safe—for now—because of who our commander is. It doesn't mean I am safe anywhere else. Hunters hate seers. They think they are weak. A curse. A disgrace of Thorin's blood."

Something burned deep inside of Gideon. "I have not heard one man mention your gift since we had our briefing."

Kellen's glare met Gideon's, a heavy intensity lingering there. "That's because my big brother commanded them not to."

Gideon knew what it was like to have Torin's legacy cloud his own. He was the first-born son, and in his own way, he was everything a warrior of Thorin should be. No man or beast dared to mess with Gideon or Kellen because they knew they had Torin to answer to. And he had cut down men for less harsh words than what Kellen had mentioned.

"Torin may have commanded that the clan accept you, but we are under new times. Our men are good men. Maybe Torin will bring forth a change in mentality with his commandership. Thorin knows he encourages Emara to do things that the old traditions say she shouldn't. He allows women to fight with the clan. He allows wolves to fight with the clan. He won't allow anyone to have a prejudiced outlook on them, so why would he let them do that to you?"

His brother released his bottom lip. "It's not as easy as that for me. It's not like everything is right with who I am because I told the clan of my abilities," Kellen argued. "I know there are going to be men who do not agree that I should fight. I know that men will hold their tongues on what I am because of Torin and because of my name. But it doesn't mean they will proudly fight next to me like they do with you."

Gideon's heart fractured a little. "Well, you know that your brothers will always have your back. We will always support you; that's what blood does. Fuck anything or anyone else." He moved in a little closer and lowered his voice. "But until you are sure of who you are and until you own that, you will always find yourself unhappy Kellen, regardless of what others think."

Gideon knew that to be true because he had felt it, especially after what he did to Emara. When he had stolen the Resurrection Stone and seen the look on her face when she realised what he had done, it had forced him to think about his morals. It had forced him to question who he was as a person and if he was truly happy with what he saw in the mirror. The truth was, he had hated himself.

"I will work on it," Kellen said unconvincingly as he drained the last of his glass of wine.

"Good." He patted Kellen on the shoulder and rested his hand there. "I am proud of you. You gave strength a new meaning today."

"Thanks, big brother," he choked out.

Just as Gideon moved to stand, midnight black hair caught his eye. It made its way out from an empress tent and into the forest.

"Excuse me," Gideon said as he made his way towards Emara. She should not be wandering out here alone, and he wondered if her guards were asleep.

He didn't have to walk long to catch up with her. She stood at the clearing's opening against a huge fir tree, gazing up at the almost-full moon that had an emerald glow around it.

"Hey," he said softly.

She turned around to face him, and Gideon wondered why no one had ever painted her. She held such exquisite beauty and grace, yet there was an edge to her too. She reminded him of a siren's call, as dangerous as she was beautiful.

"Gideon." She gasped like he'd scared her despite his gentle approach.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said. "I just wondered where you were going without your guards."

Her curved eyebrow raised, and a smirk broke her lips apart. "An empress can walk without her guards, you know."

He smiled back. "I know."

He knew better than to challenge her these days. The power that was beginning to radiate from her was magnificent, and even now as he stood a few feet from her, he could feel the elements of her magic on his skin. It was inspiring and terrifying.

Her gaze turned back up to the moon, and as Gideon came to stand beside her, he noticed that her face seemed troubled.

"Can't sleep?"

Emara chewed on her cheek and shook her head. There was a comfortable moment between them before she spoke again. "No matter how many times I look at the moon and am in awe of her beauty, a little part of me wonders why she merely watches from her castle in the sky as darkness rushes in on us. It's rather cruel, is it not?"

Her profound words hit him like a knee to the gut, and it was like he had never seen her in this light before. The air around her had changed; she commanded it now. She carried herself differently from when he had first met her, and she sounded like someone who had been on a throne for years.

"That is because the moon is waiting for you to follow her light into battle and do everything on these lands that she cannot. You are her vessel on earth like I am Thorin's."

Emara turned to Gideon, and a gentle wind swept over both of their faces, ruffling their hair. He was sure it was her element because it was stronger than a summer breeze. A staggering pride broke through him for the girl he had found welcoming death at the hands of a knight of the underworld. Back then, she had no idea who was. She had been no one. Anyone.

But now she knew exactly who she was.

She had magic in her veins and darkness in her blood. She was Emara of House Air. She was Fire and Earth. She was Wind and Water, Spirits and Enchantments. And he could feel that her ancestors were watching her from above.

"Gideon?" A small voice came from the woodland behind him, and he turned to see Sybil standing with a few fur rugs slung over her arm.

"Sybil," he choked out. Guilt instantly raked through him.

Sybil's eyes strained with something unspoken, and her cheeks flushed with something that was neither delight nor desire.

It was embarrassment, he was sure of it. But he couldn't understand why.

"I had no idea you were still up, Emara. I am sorry if I am interrupting something between you." Sybil nodded towards the Empress of Air.

Emara looked to her friend and then to Gideon. "You are not interrupting anything. I was just heading back to bed. I only needed a moment with the moon." She smiled at them. "Goodnight, you two."

Emara took her leave between the trees, and it left only the silence between them, lingering thicker than the darkness. Sybil glared at him, waiting until Emara had gone before saying, "When you didn't come and find me, I thought I would come and find you."

"I was just about to come—"

Sybil looked down at the folds of her blankets as she cut him off. "Are you still in love with her, Gideon?"

He wasn't sure if he could take any more blows to his chest tonight, but Sybil's words punched him hard. His words bubbled in his throat, and the truth that he so desperately wanted to say tied his tongue in knots. He was so caught off guard by the look on Sybil's face that his mind dissolved into a blank nothingness. Why did that pain in his chest tighten?

"It's a simple question, Gideon," Sybil said, frustration flashing in her eyes. "Do you still love her?"

Sybil knew of his heartache, of his past with Emara, as he had opened up to her about it during their travels and time at the palace together. But that seemed like so far in the past, and so much had happened in between the Blood Moon and the one he stood under now.

His lips parted to say that she didn't own his heart, but nothing came from his mouth.

Sybil looked at him in a way that made Gideon's heart thump in his chest. "Understood," she whispered.

"I didn't say anything." He stepped forward, reaching for her.

"You didn't have to." She stepped back, placing a hand up for him to keep his distance.

"Sybil..." He hesitated about telling her the truth. It wasn't the Empress of Air who he dreamt of, who he couldn't wait to see in the morning. He didn't dream of kissing the Empress of Air. But he didn't know if it was professional of him to overstep the line between them. His heart had somehow shifted, and he didn't know how to handle it.

Sybil Lockhart had snuck into his broken heart and mended it.

Sybil turned and was out of sight before his stupid feet would work to go after her. "Sybil, no. Wait!" But she was gone, and his voice rang through the trees—and possibly the camp. He placed his hands atop his head. "Shit!"