Chapter 67: Everly

Chapter

Sixty-Seven

EVERLY

A frigid breeze whips at my clothes as I sit on a log the next morning, my mind replaying what happened the day before. How the battle had unfolded. How those arrows had rained over the cliff, striking all those rebels. I still hear their screams echoing in my ears.

My thoughts shift to Alvina, to that moment she had turned to Cenric, evil in her eyes. But before she could attack, someone struck her with a shield.

It had come from below. Someone from within the rebellion.

I glance at Cenric and find him staring into the fire, his eyes hard. He's still so quiet after Liam's death. Still so battered. So destroyed by losing a friend.

My focus drops to my hands, and I'm surprised to find them clean. They should be stained with blood, shouldn't they? I was in the thick of it all .

I close my eyes, but that only makes the memories more vivid. The clash of steel. The twang of bowstrings. The cries of the wounded and dying.

Praxis approaches us and stops in front of Cenric. "Someone's here to see you."

Cenric stands and motions for me to follow. I rise to my feet, brushing the dirt from my surcoat, and fall into step behind him.

As we make our way across the camp, I wonder who this mysterious visitor could be. My mind races through possibilities. A messenger from Roland with urgent news from the capital? Another leader seeking an alliance? My thoughts drift to the darkest possibility—that it's an assassin sent to kill Cenric. A chill runs down my spine at the thought.

We approach a large tent at the far edge of the camp. Two stern-faced guards stand at attention outside. Cenric nods to them as we pass, and I feel their eyes follow me as I slip into the tent.

The interior of the tent is lit only by one guttering torch ensconced in an iron bracket. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but as they do, I make out two people standing near the center of the tent, their backs to us.

The pair turn in unison, and my heart slams against my chest as recognition dawns.

Hawke stands there, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. Beside him, Alvina glares daggers at us, her hands bound behind her back with a thick rope.

Hawke, on the other hand, is completely unrestrained.

I blink, wondering if the stress of battle has made me lose my mind. Hawke and Alvina? Here? Together? And one of them tied up while the other isn't?

What in Hades is happening?

A thousand questions swirl through my thoughts. How did they get here? Why is Alvina tied up? Why does Hawke look so smug while she looks murderous? Were they working together? Betraying us? Betraying each other?

I whip my gaze frantically between Cenric and Hawke, searching for answers. Cenric stares blankly. Hawke smirks.

Because of course he does. I doubt the man is incapable of not smirking.

Hawke's lips curl into that infuriatingly smug smile of his. "It's nice to see you again, Everly."

I fold my arms and scowl at him.

Alvina snarls, straining against her bonds. "You little traitor—"

"—now, now, sister," Hawke chides, his tone light but his eyes hard. "Let's not be rude to our friends."

"Friends." I snort. "We're not your friends." I look at Cenric, expecting him to agree with me, but his expression remains neutral, almost expectant.

What's going on here?

"We're not your friends," I repeat, slower this time, waiting for Cenric to back me up .

He doesn't.

Hawke nods toward his sister. "Well, here she is, as we agreed."

Agreed?

Alvina sneers, her perfect features twisting into an ugly mask. "You spineless worm," she spits at Hawke. "Betraying your own flesh and blood."

Instead of answering her, Hawke turns to Cenric. "I've fulfilled my end of the bargain, Bloodstone. Now, it's your turn."

Cenric pulls a small, gilded chest from his cloak and hands it to Hawke.

As Hawke slips the chest into his cloak, his golden eyes flick to mine, and he winks. "When you get tired of the Bloodstone, there's always a place for you with me."

My jaw drops. Is he seriously flirting with me? Now? Here?

I narrow my eyes. "I prefer my men without air between their ears."

Hawke grins, then turns to Cenric and nods.

The air around Hawke ripples like water, distorting his features. In a heartbeat, he vanishes, leaving behind nothing but a faint whisper of wind. The gilded chest disappears with him, as if it never existed.

My mind reels from what I've just witnessed. Hawke betraying his sister. Cenric giving him a chest.

What am I missing?

Before I can fully process everything, Cenric grabs Alvina's arm and drags her from the tent. Her eyes flash with fury, but she doesn't resist.

My heart hammers as I follow them.