Chapter 32: Everly

Chapter

Thirty-Two

EVERLY

I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth and try to rein in my irritation as I yank on my worn leather boots.

Three long days. That's how long it's been since Cenric kissed me. Three long days of him striding past me like I don't exist.

As I step out of the tent, a frigid breeze lashes my cheeks and whips my cloak around my legs. I frown, my nose wrinkling, and tug my threadbare cloak tighter around my shoulders. Unfortunately, the faded gray material does a very poor job of keeping out the chill.

Maybe I'll find a sheep to shear and make myself a new cloak. Not that I know the first thing about spinning wool into yarn.

I make a mental note to change that.

As I walk through the camp, I look around for Finn. Morwen asked me last night to gather mushrooms from the forest, and I know it's best not to go alone.

Sunlight blinks through the clouds as I weave through the maze of tents, my eyes darting left and right in search of Finn. The earthy scent of wet canvas and smoke from the fires assaults my senses as I walk.

I round a corner and spot Doran standing in front of a tent, his scarred face twisted into a sneer. My steps falter for a moment, but I force myself to press onward.

"If it isn't the little outsider," he calls out, his voice dripping with venom. "Still slinking around our camp like a stray dog."

Heat floods my cheeks, and my skin prickles, but I keep my gaze fixed straight ahead, determined not to grant him the satisfaction of a response.

"What's the matter? Do you think you're too good to speak to me?" Doran taunts. "Or are you simply too busy trying to worm your way into Cenric's bed?"

The urge to spin around and unleash a scathing retort burns in my throat, yet I swallow it down, refusing to let him see how deeply his words pierce.

Still, his disdain lingers, planting bitter roots inside my chest—splintering my resolve, shattering the confidence I've fought so hard to build over the last few days.

Near the training area, I pause and watch the warriors engaging in their daily drills. Sweat glistens on their brows as they parry and thrust.

I remain at the edge of the training area, my focus drawn to the five men at the center. Cenric's commanding presence is unmistakable as he stands with Luc, Praxis, Liam, and Gabriel. They move among their men, offering guidance and instruction, each in their own unique way.

Praxis stands back from the others, watching as Cenric, Liam, and Luc lead the drills. But it's Gabriel who catches my eye, the one I know the least about. The commander moves with a fluid grace as he weaves through the warriors, demonstrating each technique.

I turn away and continue my search for Finn. The mushrooms won't gather themselves, and I don't fancy going into the forest alone.

I round a corner and nearly collide with someone. My breath hitches as I look up, praying it's not Cenric. Relief floods through me when I meet warm brown eyes instead of icy blue.

"Finn." A genuine smile spreads across my face as I stare at him. "I've been looking all over for you."

His eyes twinkle as he grins at me. "Well, you found me. What can I do for you, Everly?"

I explain Morwen's request, and he nods enthusiastically. "Mushroom hunting? Sounds like an adventure."

As we head into the forest, the thick canopy of trees casts shadows on the ground. I watch them as my thoughts shift to Cenric.

Am I a toad to him? Is that why he avoids me?

Or maybe I'm a terrible kisser.

"So, Finn," I say, trying to distract myself, "what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

"I once tried to impress a girl by showing off my archery skills. I ended up hitting my foot instead."

I snort. "I bet she was really impressed by that. "

"Absolutely." He scratches his jaw as he adds, "But now, I stick with swords and axes. Cannot afford to lose a foot."

I laugh and shake my head.

As we walk deeper into the forest, the trees grow thicker, their branches stretching out above us. I spot a cluster of mushrooms near the base of an ancient oak and bend down to inspect them.

"Finn, what do you think of these? Are they—"

A sudden gust of wind cuts me off, whipping my hair into my face. I straighten up, pushing the strands out of my eyes, and freeze as Alvina walks toward us, looking as friendly as a cactus.

The gods have mercy!

Why am I plagued by Calcites with air magic?

Her green eyes lock onto Finn, and before I can blink, she raises her hand. The air around Finn shimmers and distorts. His eyes widen, and his mouth opens in a silent gasp. Horror impales me as he falls to the ground, clutching at his throat.

I surge forward, yank his broadsword from his weapon belt, and rise with it in hand. "Stay away from us."

Unfortunately, Alvina just smiles at me. "I'm not here to harm you, little spy."

Little spy?

I'm not little. I'm short! There's a difference.

I adopt a cool tone as I lift Finn's sword higher. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" She rolls her eyes. "Has anyone ever taught you proper manners?"

Indignation flares through me. "You' re the one who..." My focus darts to Finn's unconscious form, and I note the rise and fall of his chest. Thank the gods, he's still alive. "...just incapacitated my guard. And yet, you have the audacity to scold me about manners?"

Alvina reaches into the bag tied to her waist and yanks out a leather pouch. "Add this to Cenric's tea."

I lift Finn's sword even higher. "Tea? Cenric doesn't drink tea."

She steps closer. "Drop the sword, Everly."

Instead of listening to her, I tighten my grip and step back, daring her to try to take it from me. I'll cut her before I give up this weapon.

Alvina raises her hand, and the air distorts like heat waves rising from sunbaked stones. An invisible force yanks at the sword, and I struggle to maintain my grip, but it's like trying to hold on to a slippery fish. The more I try to hold on, the more it slips away. The weapon wrenches free and soars through the air, landing beyond my reach.

I gasp, darting my eyes between the sword and Alvina.

"Now," Alvina says, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Isn't that better? There's no need for violence between us."

"Magic is violence," I say through my teeth. "Especially when you use it to control others."

She ignores me and drops the leather pouch into my hand. "Add this to Cenric's tea."

"I already told you. He doesn't drink tea."

She rolls her eyes and lets out a huff of frustration. "I don't give a damn how you do it. Just make sure it gets done."

I let the pouch fall to the forest floor, my voice firm. "No."

Alvina's eyes narrow as she leans down to scoop up the pouch. "You will. Or I will ensure that your friend here pays the price." Before I can react, she places her foot against Finn's throat, applying enough pressure to make her threat clear. "Is that what you want? To be responsible for this man's death?"

"I'm not a fool," I say as I look at the pouch still clutched in her hands. "Whatever vile concoction you have in there will probably kill Cenric. I won't be a part of that."

Her cloak slips down her shoulder as she shrugs. "Why does that bother you? He's the nephew of the man who keeps outsiders like you on the fringes of society."

It doesn't matter who Cenric is related to or what his uncle has done. Murder is still wrong, no matter how Alvina tries to justify it.

I square my shoulders and meet her gaze head-on, my voice unwavering. "I will not help you murder people, Alvina. I don't care who they are or what they've done. I won't have blood on my hands."

Alvina's eyes darken like the sky during a thunderstorm. "You will regret this decision. I gave you a chance to do this the easy way, but now..." She raises her hand, and the air around Finn shimmers.

"No!" The scream rips from me as I lunge forward to stop her. She throws up her hands, and a gust of wind slams into me, knocking me back.

I hit the dirt hard, the impact jarring my bones. Frantic, I try to gain my feet, to reach Finn, but her magic keeps me rooted to the ground.

"Please," I beg, my voice cracking with desperation as Finn's eyes bulge, his face contorts. His hands claw at his throat as he thrashes on the forest floor, leaves and twigs snapping beneath him.

"Stop it!" Tears stream down my face as I plead with her. "Please, stop!"

Alvina doesn't relent. Instead, she keeps her hands raised as she watches Finn's life slip away.

His movements grow weaker, his face now a deep, unnatural blue. Then, with one final, shuddering gasp, he goes still.

No. No. No!

"Damn you!" I don't care if she turns on me next. Nor do I care if the entire world catches fire and burns her to ash for what she's done.

Alvina crouches down beside me and shoves the bag into my hand. "Actions have consequences, and you just paid the price for yours."

Rage boils up inside me, white-hot and blinding. I gather the moisture in my mouth and spit in her smug face. Her hand cracks across my cheek, snapping my head to the side. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, but I barely feel the sting.

"Remember this moment, Everly. Remember what happens when you defy me." Her words drip with venom, each syllable a dagger twisting in my gut. "Next time, it won't be some random barbarian. It will be your family."

She straightens and walks away, her footsteps fading into the distance.

As soon as she's gone, the invisible force holding me down vanishes. I scramble to my knees, crawling desperately toward Finn. My hands shake as I reach for him, praying to every god I know that this is a nightmare, and I'll wake up any moment. But as my fingers brush against his skin, reality crashes down upon me.

This is no dream.

"Finn," I choke out. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Guilt rushes over me in billowing waves. Guilt I cannot outrun. It chases me down, lashing at my feet, my legs, my chest.

If only I'd been stronger, smarter, braver. If only I'd found a way to stop Alvina. If only...

But there are no if onlys that can bring Finn back.

He's gone, and it's all my fault.