Chapter 6

When I help Mina swing down from the horse, I'm not sure what I expect her reaction to be. I meant every word of what I said about her being brave, but the sight at Sheerly would turn all but the most hardened warrior's stomach.

Smoke billows from one of the houses, where a fire still burns in vain, even as a line of townsfolk dump buckets of water onto it. They have the task well in hand, but not before five or six others homes sustained severe damage.

There's a group of people huddled together, clutching each other and sobbing. Before them, a hand peeks from beneath a sheet.

The far end of town holds the village lodge, where people gather. It's there we need go; it's the most fortified of all the houses, and where the people would have known to run in case of attack. I urge the horse forward, people hardly noticing as I make my way through them. The ones who do, though, bob their heads in quiet acknowledgment of my presence.

I slide from the horse when we reach the lodge, easily swinging Mina down in front of me. I try not to notice how good she feels in my arms, try to push my need for her far from my mind. Now is not the time to think on it.

The stench of blood and smoke stains the air. Worry for my mate threads through me. Surely destruction and chaos on this scale do not exist in her daily life, no matter how brave she seems.

Mina, however, inhales deeply, a furrow between her eyes, and assesses. I can almost see the thoughts turn in her head. Her strange, stiff pants are filthy, and her blouse hangs off one shoulder. There's a smudge of dirt across her cheek, and despite the calculating look in her eyes, she seems so young.

Everything in me wants to scoop her up, put her back on the horse, and ride her back with me to Westshear.

But the other part of me knows a woman like this does not want to be coddled.

"I need the bag of herbs." Her tone brooks no argument, and I rummage through the satchel. She snatches it from me, mouth moving as she digs through it, murmuring something to herself.

"Hyadum, thank the stars you're here." A disheveled guardian rises from next to the family. Thom. One of the five stationed out here, as many as we can afford to send from Westshear proper. A babe wails in its mother's arms.

"How many dead?" I ask gruffly. Any loss of life is too many. Pain lances my heart, followed by all-too familiar guilt.

This is my burden to bear.

"Three."

"I am sorry," I tell him. "I brought a healer for the wounded."

Thom's eyes widen as he takes in Mina beside me. "A Starbound?" The question is full of wonder. "When? How?"

"Aye." I dip my head. "And I do not know the how of it."

Thom stares at her, and I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to push her behind me, to hide her from another male's view. A snarl begins to curl my lip, until memory washes over me, cutting through the haze of the blood curse, of my father. Of the way he treated his men—Westshear's guardians—and of the way he treated me, my mother.

Disappointment sinks through me, heavy as a stone. Disappointment in myself.

I will not be like him.

Thom's throat bobs as he swallows, taking a step back.

When I glance behind me to where Mina should be standing, her long legs eat up the ground as she strides past us, heading into the lodge. Moans of the injured fill the air as she pushes the door open, bag of herbs clutched close to her chest.

Thom's eyes are wide, and I rearrange my scowl into blankness.

I am not myself these days, and judging by Thom's expression, I'm all the more frightening for it.

"Are you well, Thom?" I should have asked after him immediately. Should have checked in on how he is coping after such a violent assault. I scrub a hand across my face.

I should have been a leader, not the reactionary youth I once was, turned desperate for a crumb of Mina's attention.

If he's surprised by my topic change, he doesn't show it. "I have survived worse, as have you, Hyadum. I fear for our families." His gaze takes in the wreckage around us, the smoldering fires, the children crying. "I fear this is not the last attack, but merely the beginning."

"We've been fending them off for months now," I say, but my eyes narrow. "What makes you think this is different?"

His throat bobs as he swallows. "They were looking for something." He starts to turn, a speculative look on his face, to where Mina disappeared into the lodge.

Fear grips me, a taloned hand piercing my heart. I clamp a hand on his shoulder, causing him to startle.

"You think they know the Starbound women return." It's impossible. At least, it should be. But the blood drinkers have defied much we once knew about magic, about the nature of the forces that flow through Vraya. About ourselves.

"Aye," Thom answers solemnly. "If I were you, I would take my mate far from here, as far from Avleim as I could. I wish I could only do the same for my family."

Bitterness rises in my throat. "I cannot leave Westshear. I will not abandon my people to them."

"I know." Thom nods once, his eyes grave. "I know you would not. What would you have us do?"

I purse my lips, thinking hard, trying to think my way past the debilitating fear for Mina. I have only just found her, and the thought of losing my mate is already harshest agony.

"We pull in all the furthest settlers. We bring the wounded to Westshear proper, and fortify."

He dips his head in acknowledgment. "Your father would be proud."

Acid rises in my throat. A hundred years later, and still, the mere mention of my father turns my stomach. Thom doesn't know that though, none of my people know how I really feel about him.

Nor do they know what he did to us, over a century ago.

"Spread the word," I finally say, the ring of command in my voice. There's nothing else to say, my long-simmering rage at my father, the former ruler of Westshear, barely held in check.

I run a hand along the smooth surface of one horn, my gaze pinned to the door of the lodge.

Where Mina likely is overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of the wounds the blood drinkers are known to inflict. I grunt once, and Thom's expression turns knowing before he launches into activity, heading for a cluster of soot-stained guards standing near the perimeter.

The door creaks under my hand, the scarred wood giving way under light pressure. The copper tang of blood fills my nostrils, the ragged moans of the injured a chorus in my ears.

My jaw clenches, and I clamp my lips shut. The village's meeting house should be full of song, of conversation and food. It should not have come to this.

Another sign of my failures, of my father's sins.

Light glints off Mina's hair, and her hands make quick work of bandaging a wound. Long, elegant fingers wind clean linen around a forearm, her forehead creased in concentration. The woman, my mate, is in her element, every inch of her projecting calm strength. Wonder fills me at it.

Fate has truly aligned, sending her to me now. I must do everything in my power to protect her, to make it easy for her to fall in love with me, as impossible as it seems. Her lips move as she murmurs reassurance to her patient.

I squint, the sun intensifying as it plays on her hair.

When I look to the skylight, though, all I see is the gray of smoke and clouds.