CHAPTER 38

AUREN TURLEY

Before Slade and I leave the house, he stops to grab his old pants, and I see him take something out of the pocket. I arch a brow, but when I see what it is, my heart skips a beat.

"A piece of my ribbon?" I ask breathlessly.

He nods, coming forward to show me. It's worn and frayed slightly, the golden color not as bright and glossy as the ones on my back. My eyes fill with tears. "This is the piece…"

The piece that Midas had cruelly tied around my wrist once he cut the rest from my back. The piece I saved and looked at, while believing I'd never have them again.

"You kept it all this time?"

Slade nods and slips the piece back into his pocket. "I keep every part of you you've ever given to me," he murmurs. "Your heart, your soul, your mind, your bond, your body…and your ribbon."

Tears spring to my eyes and I tuck myself against him. All my ribbons curl around to wrap us up, like they want to squeeze him in a hug. "Thank you," I whisper. "For keeping all the parts of me safe."

He kisses the top of my head. "Always," he promises.

And Slade never goes back on a promise.

Together, he and I leave the safe house, returning to the darkened underground waterway. We're quiet, watching each other from either side of the boat as Slade pulls on the oars, bringing us back to the entrance.

Every second, at least one of my ribbons is always stretched out, stroking over some part of him or wrapping around his limbs. He gives me a knowing smile, and I smile back, wondering how in the realms I got so lucky to have him.

He offers me his hand once we tie the boat to the post, and we make our way up the short steps of the cellar door. We pause, and Slade's head cocks, both of us listening. But there are no sounds on the street.

We share a glance before Slade uses the key to unlock the cellar door. He opens it and looks around and then motions me forward, both of us climbing out into the daylight. When we're out in the open again at the back of the building, we wait and listen, eyes peeled.

"I don't hear anything," I murmur.

"No," he agrees. "The city is quiet."

"Too quiet," I say with unease.

Nodding, he looks over at me. I can already see rot lines starting to writhe on his forearms where he's partially rolled up his sleeves, and his spikes are on display. "Be prepared for an attack."

I turn my palms, showing him I already have gold clamped in my hand.

"Good girl," he says with a smile. "Let's go."

The two of us round the corner of the building and walk down the narrow path at its side. Before we can reach the street though, somebody suddenly jolts up from the building's front stoop.

Slade has the blond-haired male by the throat and against the door before I can even blink.

I spin around, looking for more people attacking, but all I see is another male across the street, holding his hands up. "Ly?ri!" he calls. "We are not your enemy!"

I spot the broken-winged bird symbol pinned to his bright green lapel.

"Wait," I tell Slade. "They're Vulmin. Let him go."

Without hesitation, Slade releases him.

The blond male wheezes, looking between the two of us. He rubs a hand down his wayward hair, eyes slightly glassy, like we interrupted a nap. "I didn't mean to startle you," he says. "We were just told to keep watch for you."

"Why?" Slade asks.

"Wick wanted to make sure no one disturbed you. Said we were to wait right here and then help escort you to our gathering place so you didn't have trouble finding it."

The other Vulmin crosses the street and stands before us. "Ly?ri," he says, bowing at the waist. "Lord Rot. We can take you there now, if you're ready?"

Slade and I exchange a look, and then I motion for them to lead. We start making our way down the empty street, my senses on high alert.

"Lord Rot?" I murmur with an arched brow.

I hear Slade snort under his breath.

The buildings we pass by are dripping with plant life and molded with meticulous architecture of smoothed stone. There are pretty domes, ornate steeples, and perfect symmetry. Each doorway and eave seems to be a piece of art.

I'd love to be able to walk along the arched bridges and explore the covered walkways. Would love to climb up the molded stairs I see notched along the braided trunks and twisting branches, up to the taller buildings above where the floating lights brim among the leaves. It's beautiful, but right now, it's also eerie with emptiness.

"Where is everyone?" I ask.

The blond turns, walking backwards as he answers. "Because of you two, the soldiers fled as soon as the king disappeared. Then the Vulmin were able to take over the city. We've locked it down."

"What about the citizens?"

"Most of them are lying low. We closed this street while you two…occupied it," he says, clearing this throat. The male beside him cuffs him on the back of the head, and he turns around again to face forward, right after sending me a sheepish look.

A blush threatens to heat my cheeks.

"How many days have passed?" I ask.

"Two."

Slade gives me a smirking look that makes my cheeks burn even hotter.

I clear my throat. "So none of the Stone Swords have attempted to storm the city?"

"Not yet," the other male answers as he slows to walk at my side. "Between the magic from the two of you, and the manifested dragon, we think they're trying to formulate a plan."

"And the king?" Slade puts in. "Has he returned?"

"We don't know. Haven't heard a thing. My guess is he's up in Glassworth, and he'll make a plan to take the two of you out."

Slade chuckles darkly. "He can certainly fucking try."

"Manifesting a dragon has made you quite confident," I tease quietly.

He shoots me a smirk.

The blond whirls, lanky limbs carrying him backward once more as he grins. "So it's true? Did you actually manifest a dragon?" he asks with excitement.

"Yes."

He whistles sharply before a wide grin spreads across his lips. "Amazing! I mean, I saw the road. The bricks are all smashed up where it stepped, and there are scrape marks along the buildings from its tail. But still…a real dragon . Right here in Lydia! Everyone is terrified!"

He sounds ecstatic, and I can tell Slade is amused by his enthusiasm. The creature was huge and threatening. I'm not surprised it made everyone run.

"And, Ly?ri, the way you made the Stone King flee! Everyone is talking about it. About how you showed up and tossed back your cloak, with golden armor covering you. The arena is covered in spots of gold! Everyone keeps going to look at it," he says excitedly.

"Including you," the other Vulmin says with a roll of his eyes. "He's been four times already, Lady Auren."

I can't help but smile, though I feel uncomfortable with the praise.

The blond puts his head down as a blush creeps up his cheeks. "This way."

We're led onto an arched bridge that stretches over a canal. Slade reaches down and clasps my hand, giving it a squeeze. "He's right. What you did was amazing. You should be fucking proud."

I'm not used to overt compliments like this. I don't quite know what to do with it, so I just nod.

"And this," Slade says quietly, as his hand drifts up to the back of my neck. I feel him rub against the skin there. "I haven't told you yet how much I fucking love this."

My brow furrows and I lift my hand. My fingers brush up against something smooth, something that feels different. "What is that?"

He blinks, and then his lips curve. "You didn't know?"

I shake my head, still trying to feel around it.

"You turned my scales golden," he says, hand moving to tap his own cheek. "And you grew one of your own."

My eyes widen. "This…is a scale?"

"Yep," he says, pride practically flooding through the word.

The spot is directly centered at the back of my neck, a curved diamond shape that feels smoother and a bit harder than the rest of my skin.

"First my gold sprouted roots of rot, and now I have a scale," I say, my hand dropping. "You've staked quite the claim on me, Ravinger."

His grin is sinful and makes my inner beast purr while my pulse heats. Then he leans in and talks close to my ear, his words fanning me with his hot breath. "And I can't even begin to tell you how absolutely feral it makes me to see it."

My stomach jumps.

Then we reach the end of the bridge, and I have to clear my throat and look away, or else I might be in danger of trying to drag him right back to our underground safe house.

He chuckles and grips my hand again. Wicked male.

I've cooled by the time we round a corner and make it onto the connecting street. This one, unlike the other, actually has people on it. Some are in groups, talking to each other in hurried whispers. There are several children playing, one of them blowing light into the air while the others try to chase the colors.

When everyone notices us though, the street goes still and quiet. I feel their eyes on us, and my tension sparks.

Then, the people suddenly start to cheer. Hands clapping, faces breaking out into smiles. I take in a surprised breath.

"Ly?ri! It's the Ly?ri!"

Their voices catch down the street too, coming from more and more throats, and the crowd comes over, walking with us like it's a celebration. They reach out to touch me, grinning, calling my name, and I smile at them with friendly acknowledgement, not knowing quite what to say. I'm glad for the steadiness of Slade's hand holding mine.

Finally, the Vulmin lead us to a building. It has pillars at its front and a dome over its doorway, but the roof stands out the most. Among the other gray stone rooftops, this one is the familiar bright blue in the exact shade as Saira Turley's field of flowers.

Just before we reach the front door, it swings open and Wick stands there, his brown eyes guarded. The rest of the Vulmin still call after me, but I walk up the stoop's steps with Slade. I turn and wave at them before entering the building, and once we're inside, Wick closes the door.

There are sacks full of flour and sugar stacked against the walls, and different powders in glass canisters along the shelves. The whole place smells like wheat and cinnamon and something else I can't quite place.

Wick looks over at the two males who brought us. "Thank you for escorting them."

With quick nods to him and us, they take their leave, walking back outside and shutting the door behind them. Then it's just the three of us.

Wick turns and motions us deeper into the building. "We'll go upstairs so we can talk."

Slade doesn't move. "Before we go anywhere with you, explain why I can scent blood."

That's the hint of what I was smelling. I look from him to Wick, waiting for his answer.

"There are a few prisoners in the cellar below," Wick replies.

We don't say anything, and when Slade continues to stand here and stare at him, Wick shifts on his feet. "I wouldn't put Auren at risk."

"No, I wouldn't put Auren at risk," Slade states evenly, his tone blunt and low. His protectiveness reared its head when I first explained everything that happened, and it's baring its teeth now. "You are a rebel leader whose cause has outweighed all else and whose choices have indeed put her at risk. Multiple times."

Wick's brown gaze flicks to me, and I can see hints of guilt there. "The Vulmin cause is indeed my driving force. But I have also done my best to protect her."

"Which is why you're still breathing."

Slade says it so matter-of-factly that, somehow, it makes the statement all the more of a threat. The tension between the two of them mounts as I look between them. Slade's shoulders are stiff, his eyes hard, and Wick looks like he's expecting Slade to lash out at him any second.

"Alright," I say, breaking the silence. "I have questions that I want the answers to, so lead the way."

Wick glances at me, losing some of his tension, before he gives a stiff nod and turns. Slade and I look at each other, and I squeeze his hand in reassurance. Then we follow Wick as he takes us across the room, to a doorway that leads to a set of winding stairs.

I notice his bare wrist as we start to climb. "You got that magical cuff off?" I ask. "The one that dampens magic?"

He looks over his shoulder at me with a nod. "Yeah. One of the other Vulmin was able to."

"Good. What is it anyway?"

"I don't know. We're going to try to do some tests on it to figure it out. But for now, I found another use for it."

I eye him curiously, but he doesn't divulge further. We reach the top of the stairs, which brings us to a big loft-style room that looks over an open space below. I can see a dozen Vulmin down there, around what seems to be an area for packing different herbs and spices.

"This has been a Vulmin building for years," Wick explains as we grip the railing to look below. "No one in the city has ever caught us, because the spices and herb repository has always been legitimate. But we've held many meetings here and housed extra Vulmin, and even smuggled Oreans out, having them pretend to be workers taking shipments outside the capital."

The fact that Oreans had to be smuggled out in the first place makes me furious.

Instead of leading us down the open stairwell that would take us to the drying and packing area below, Wick takes us to the left of the landing, where a set of doors are. He opens up the first and leads us inside to a small but clean office and sitting room.

There's a table and chairs littered around, with incredibly detailed maps hung up on every inch of wall space. The sole window in this room is round and slightly bigger than my head. It domes out from the wall, which I suspect offers better angles for viewing the street below.

"Please, sit," Wick says, and he waits for Slade and me to take a seat before he does too.

For a moment, he looks at me, as if he doesn't know where to begin. "You're alright?"

My head tips. "I'm alright."

"And you remember?"

I glance over at Slade before answering. "Yes."

Wick lets out a breath, and I take the chance to really study him. His sleek black hair is flopped over to one side like always, exposing the shaved sides while the long ends brush down to his shoulder. I can see splotches of bruises along his jaw and beneath each of his eyes, and I wonder if he holds even more marks under his clothes.

"I'm so sorry. About Ludogar," I say thickly. The flash of memory of the blue-haired fae dying in the palace's courtyard haunts me. The way his body jolted. The way his blood poured out.

Wick flinches, and I know the loss is still incredibly fresh and painful. He trusted Ludo above all others. "Thank you," he murmurs, his throat bobbing. "He was a good Vulmin and an even better friend. He will be greatly missed."

"Too many have died," I reply. "But what you said—on the stage. About there being a better way. You meant that?"

His strong jaw locks in and he nods. "I did. The Vulmin want to get rid of the tyranny, but we don't want to be tyrants in return. We want peace. We want to stop spilling fae and Orean blood."

Relief fills my chest. "Good."

We study each other in silence for a long moment until he finally lets out a tight sigh. "Go ahead, Auren. Ask."

I look at him evenly, though tension aches along my shoulders. "You bled gold," I say evenly.

"I did."

My ribbons twist nervously upon the floor. "Who are you?"

Wick shifts in his seat, but he doesn't look away as he answers. "My full name is Wickum Almon Turley."

The breath catches in my chest, and his words roll through my mind.

Even though I knew it, saw the truth when he blocked the strike meant for me, and I watched the slice in his arm bleed gold, hearing him say it out loud feels like a punch to the gut.

"We're related," I say.

He nods. "We're second cousins, strictly speaking. We share the same great-grandmother. Your mother and my father were cousins. But you're the more direct line from Saira Turley," he explains. "Think of it this way: you're the capital, I'm the outskirts."

"But why did you keep it from me? Why not tell me right away? You knew—" I cut off my words as soon as I feel my throat closing up. I can't help the emotions twisting my throat and strangling my vocal cords, but I hate sounding so vulnerable.

Beside me, Slade tenses, but he gently puts his hand on my thigh, giving me a comforting squeeze. A ribbon comes up and strokes over his fingers.

Wick runs his hand through his hair in another surprising show of his own emotion. Except maybe it's not so surprising—not after what the two of us have gone through. We fought for our lives. We watched his friend and right hand be murdered right in front of him. We saw each other get captured, Oreans executed, Emonie dragged away. He and other Vulmin were nearly whipped and killed in a public display.

And now we're here, after all of that, sitting across from each other and trying to find our footing after our lives have been shaken.

"It wasn't just you. Very few Vulmin knew that I carried the Turley name. Only those I trusted most."

Realization dawns. "Ludogar knew."

He nods, the muscles in his jaw tensing. "But I didn't want anyone to know, especially you. Not yet."

" Why ?"

He shakes his head and then slumps so that his next words are spoken down to the table, his gaze locked on the knots in the wood. "I didn't want to tell you, didn't want to tell anyone…because I'm a traitor who doesn't deserve to carry the Turley name."

A frown slices down my expression while dread slices down my stomach. "What do you mean?"

He looks up at me then, dark eyes the color of soil after being drenched in rain. There's a heaviness in them, as if they're saturated through with a weighty truth he hasn't been able to unbury.

But he does now.

His answer topples out, unearthing the buried burden in one fatal scoop.

"That night in Bryol, when you were taken with the other children, I was there," he admits, and my pulse pounds in my ears so hard it sounds like drums. "I was there, Auren, and I let them take you."