28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kade

A strong current hit the bow of the boat, lurching it forward. Murky water sprayed Kade in the face, and he gripped the front banister to steady his weary legs. Splinters scraped against the calluses of his hands. The sting offered him a moment of reprieve from his roiling stomach.

Laughter filtered from below deck, the others enjoying a round of cards and wine. He remained above—the fresh air far nicer than the confines of the maddening boat, and he didn’t dare allow anyone to witness his motion sickness. Not when the power inside his chest worried everyone else.

Linx had provided him some herbs, which left the soapy taste of dandelion muddled with dirt in his mouth and no reprieve. The younger werewolves they’d freed steered on the quarter deck, the five intent on soaking in fresh air, too, after being released from chains.

Kade didn’t blame them.

“Thought we’d find you up here,” Todd’s cheery voice said from behind.

Kade muttered a curse, bile working his way up his throat. As he turned, he inhaled the scent of river and rock and found both Linx and Todd approaching, Maxie at the weapon master’s heels .

His team’s healer snapped her fingers, and the pink in her hair faded and bled to a yellow-green, like a sour fruit from the southern continents.

“That’s the shade you are,” Linx said.

Kade scoffed, finding the energy to smile. “I prefer the pink.”

Linx giggled and snapped her fingers, pink returning as quickly as it had left.

The boat lurched over choppy rapids, and his wolf howled from the jostling sensation. Kade needed a distraction. Something. Anything other than the tilt of the world locking into his knees. Kade focused on his friends.

“Why are you both up here?” he asked, peering over their shoulders. Below, Bétar’s booming laugh cracked against the wind, and two audible groans of defeat followed after. Yennifer’s distinct snort when she drank too much rounded out the chorus of fun.

Linx wrinkled her nose. “It was a little bit too much of a love fest down there.”

Love fest? Kade blinked, and for the first time since setting foot on the boat, his body and mind stilled. Moons, did they refer to his brother and the princess?

Todd shuddered. “Indeed. Thought we’d pay you a visit and possibly find you some relief.”

He thrust a leather money pouch into Kade’s hand, but he found it empty of any coins or jewels. Small, folded pieces of parchment had been stuffed inside.

“What’s this?”

“A little game of chose-thy-weapon.” Todd flashed a devilish grin.

Kade blinked, bracing his free hand on the ship again. “You want to spar? I can barely stand.”

He hated to admit his inability, but it was obvious. He hadn’t left this little corner of the ship in hours. Kade was a fool to think his team hadn’t noticed. Discussing it, shedding light on it made his insides roil even more.

“I think some fighting and movement can do you some good, Commander,” Todd said.

Kade exhaled, the folded parchment taunting him. His knees didn’t connect to his mind, but anything was better than holding to the boat like his life depended on it. According to Tovi, the journey might take a half day. They had hours left and passing time was better fun than suffering through it.

His restless energy pulsed. Did he chance hurting someone he cared for or derailing their journey on the boat? Sparing, fighting—a risk. And yet, admitting that out loud showered more shame over Kade than his motion sickness.

“Alright,” he said. “But I can’t make any guarantees I won’t hurl on your boots.”

Linx crossed her arms. “I knew I picked the more exciting activity.”

Kade rolled his eyes and drew a folded parchment from the pouch, handing it to Todd next.

“Stars above,” Kade cursed as he opened his choice.

“What did you get?” Linx asked. She came up to his elbow in height, standing at her tiptoes to read the scribbled, three-letter word.

“Oh dear,” she said. “Axe.”

That was his brother’s weapon, not Kade’s. Too bulky at one end, off balance. He’d never adapted to the heavier end of an axe’s blade—one that needed precise delivery and harsher force. He much preferred a sword, something parallel to his tall frame and moved as one with him. A glide, a slice, a pivot. A dance.

“Appears the Moon God favors me today!” Todd said.

His folded parchment read dagger , the weapons master’s usual choice in weapon.

Kade groaned.

Linx got to work sectioning off a fighting ring in the largest area of the upper deck. Todd thrust a sack onto the wooden boards. Like clattered against like, and Kade found the contents to be practice weapons carved from wood. Regardless of the lighter, more forgiving material, the axe weighed more at one end, throwing Kade off as he spun it in his hand.

After Linx applied a white lacquer to the edges of their weapons, Todd and Kade faced the other off at the center of the makeshift ring, two strides apart, no more, no less. Maxie sat beside Linx, chest puffed out and tail whooshing side to side.

“The first to make contact and leave a mark wins,” Linx said. She threw her hand down, signaling the sparring match’s start, then retreated.

Todd lunged first, reaching for Kade’s lower belly. But Kade sidestepped, bringing the axe down to scrape across his opponent’s back. Todd squatted, dodging downward out of reach and swiping his leg across Kade’s. The blow threw Kade off balance, and he dropped to the ground. The bones of the ship ricocheted through his rib cage. He cursed to the gray sky above.

He rolled and righted himself as Todd retreated a few steps, regaining his own posture and form.

“How’s that axe treating you?” he taunted.

Kade growled, gripping his weapon tighter. He attacked this time, swiping left and down and spinning forward to deliver a blow to Todd’s leading arm, but the axe sent him too far right—the lack of balance rearing him off course, hair’s away from his opponent. He gritted his teeth, but Todd advanced, he and the dagger like one.

The white lacquer flashed across Kade’s line of sight. He reared back as Todd attempted to punch him in the gut. The weapons master stayed close, so close, Kade only had the space to deflect and block. Over and over, wooden weapons popped and clunked together. Moons, Kade was losing. The energy in his chest rose and fell, the pull and release of gravity like hanging off a cliff. Weight pulled him downward, his grip on the stony ledge weakening.

The dagger remained in Todd’s dominant hand, his right. His left arm protected his torso, like a shield. Kade charged, matching Todd’s attack of proximity and brought his weapon down towards his shoulder. Kade’s plan worked—Todd lifted his left arm to block the blow. Wood connected with his forearm. Victory flushed through Kade, sedating his festering energy. He’d landed a hit .

His lips twitched into a smile, but Todd was eyeing his belly. So did Linx, her lips etched into a thin line. Kade peered down. A line of white ran across his oblique, staining his fighting leathers. Stunned, he averted his gaze back upward, Kade’s weapon hadn’t made a mark. He’d delivered the blow with the axe’s shaft, not the blade.

No winning lacquer in sight.

The two werewolves stared at each other. Both of their long hair whirled in the wind, the tension between wolves vibrating in the air, sweat soaking their clothes and brows. Kade broke away from their locked hold, shaking out his frustrated muscles. He rolled his shoulders, letting the wound to his pride simmer.

“Well done,” he managed.

Todd backed away slowly, step for step, dark eyes still alert, as if the fight weren’t over. “Do you remember one of the first lessons of fighting?” he asked.

The question jarred Kade’s racing heart. “What?”

“Never fight with a weapon you don’t know how to use,” Todd said.

Confusion rippled through Kade, rocking him like the surge of current hitting the bow of the ship. “I didn’t exactly choose this weapon.”

“You didn’t choose your new power either, Kade,” Linx said.

He flickered his attention between Todd and Linx. The boat grew smaller, like walls closing in around him.

“That is different. I am not wielding it; I’m not meaning to anyway.”

“You’re not doing anything with it except ignoring it,” Todd said. “And like using a weapon you haven’t mastered,” he pointed towards his marked torso, “you will get hurt or worse—harm someone else.”

Bile, not from the motion sickness, rose in him. His memory flashed to the burnt husk of a vampyr. That had been the enemy, but what if he did it to someone he loved? But thinking about it, worrying about it took energy, energy he didn’t have when his focus was elsewhere. On Evelyn. But perhaps ignoring his new power was just as depleting. At least he could admit that to his team .

He sighed. “You’re both right.”

Todd’s demeanor lightened, and Linx’s face brightened.

“But I need to rescue Evelyn first.” He shook his head. “I swear, after, I will figure out this new power, but until then, I need to focus on the mission—getting my mate back.”

Neither of his friends said a word for a bit. Silence and gray stretched around them. Mists and opinions. Shadows and shame.

Todd exhaled. “Fine. As long as you know we’re here for you, Kade.”

“Always,” Linx added.

Warmth bloomed in Kade’s chest. “Of course.”

After , he told himself.

“Another round?” Todd asked.

Kade smiled, forced and tired. “Fine, but I’m using a sword.”

The weapons master scoffed, throwing one his way. Kade didn’t miss the weariness in his friend’s stare—as if he’d heard the hesitation in Kade’s tone, too.

More sparring had helped Kade’s nausea and calmed his restless wolf. He felt lighter, more himself than he had in days. The pressure in his chest had lessoned, too, and he found he could breathe more easily. His steps up the ship held more strength, more hope. Linx and Todd stood off to the side, and he gave them a nod of thanks. He appreciated his friends who’d allowed him to be vulnerable and respected his decision to focus on rescuing Evelyn.

Suddenly, the new power growing in him was less unnerving. He had a plan to deal with it. Later, of course, but he was no longer willingly ignoring it—he’d rescue Evelyn and return home, and then deal with it.

Decision made, it was if the land of Drystan had shifted in their favor. The wind had changed an hour ago. Fiercer, sharp, whipping across the deck with a mighty chill. Tovi had said any minute they’d reach Drystan Village. The river, too, had changed. Darker, choppier. Yet, Kade’s legs held strong, unbending against the faster current.

Their ship sped down the river towards their final destination.

Kade narrowed his eyes, honing his werewolf’s sense of sight to make it out. Delicate curls of mists hovered over the rushing river. As the ship speared through the clouds of fog, more rolled in their wake, making it impossible to see ahead. And yet Kade felt how near they were, how close Evelyn was in reach. He inhaled the crisp winter air—the same air Evelyn breathed.

His wolf howled—not a whine, but a call of strength, of purpose.

Kade shut his eyes and imagined her vanilla-and-cedar scent, the feel of pine needles under his paws and the tune of songbirds back home. It grounded him, fueled him.

And that sparked a wild idea.

Kade’s team had suggested his new power might be related to his mate bond with Evelyn. With consideration to when it surfaced, Kade was inclined to agree. He hadn’t been naive to notice, too, that when he worried for Evelyn, the power surged forward, furthering his assumption that the magic was tied to them meeting in some way.

But with his new sense of calm, how could he tap into it?

Kade shut his eyes, loose hair from his bun whipping in his face. He inhaled, the frigid wind chilling his lungs dry. He inhaled again, reaching for the manifesting power in his chest as well as grasping onto another.

His tracking ability.

Kade hadn’t used it since being in the halls of Lār. Nothing during their journey through the Void and Drystan had called for it. Usually, his tracking ability needed to be grounded within a space, but seeing he and Evelyn were connected through the mind—a thread between their souls—he wanted to assess how far his tracking ability could now reach. Since his new magic might be connected to their mate bond, too, and Evelyn was so close, he wondered if it might aid his tracking ability.

He extended down the bond, desperate to feel what he could of Evelyn. Anything, even the pulse of her fiery spirit.

Clouds of darkness, much like the mists and fog surrounding the ship, blurred his vision. His wolf hit the same shield he had for days. Lightning flashed—the power surrounding Evelyn was a storm of anger and hate. It nibbled like gnats on Kade’s skin, and he growled through it. He reached out further, following the emotion his tracking ability sensed, a pearly blue twinkling behind his eyelids. Kade didn’t pause time, he paused his senses.

Anger, frustration, restlessness .

Through the haze of gray, bursts of rust and swamp green pushed through.

Evelyn.

Stars above, he’d reached her. Past the dark magic. Past the shield blocking her.

Fire flattened against the shield. Kade’s own magic ran parallel to it. Red, orange, and blue danced side by side. Despite the storm, the dark magic separating them, their love pulsed through and ebbed against each other.

A gust of wind blew past Kade, and when his eyes sprang open, he held onto his connection with Evelyn, held her tight as his sights set on where she resided.

The fog thinned and parted, revealing an onyx castle. Slim yet tall, the castle stood as mighty as the mountain it’d been carved into. Kade counted over twelve turrets, clusters of them sprouting out of the windowless base. Spires shot into the sky, some lost to the overbearing clouds of gray. A wall surrounded it, much like the one that surrounded Nūa. An inclined bridge curved and winded down to the mists of the river, docks waiting up ahead.

Kade’s tracking ability soared, and the emotions weaved into his connection with Evelyn tugged from the fortress—she was there; he could feel it.

Something plush pushed against his shin. Between his legs, Maxie stared up at him, eyes begging him to hold her. The edges of Kade’s lips tugged into a smile, and he obliged. She pranced from his forearm and climbed his chest, positioning herself across the back of his shoulders. Her purr vibrated down his neck. Her yellow eyes stared straight ahead like she, too, sensed Evelyn.

Kade rallied his breath against the wind, and down the bond he whispered, “We’re coming, love.”