Chapter 26

26

KASSANDRA

T he morning sun glares down on our little procession, angry and fierce. Even with my hair braided away from my face, sweat sticks a few wayward strands to my cheeks.

I pick at my plain gray dress—pulling it away from my sweat-slick body and then watching it snap back into place—and pray for the sun to disappear behind some clouds.

The four of us stand directly in front of the Forest. Tension hangs so thick and heavy in the air that it could be mistaken for the humidity. Fear is an almost palpable entity, hovering over us, threatening to sink its claws into us all.

Blaze whirls around to face me and scowls. “You’ll do exactly as I say, understand?” He sweeps his gaze over Aleksander and Treyton. “And that extends to all of you. You’ll walk where I tell you to walk. Talk when I instruct you to. Sit when I say fucking sit. We can’t afford any mistakes. I have a compass with me, so hopefully, we won’t get lost. If you get separated from the group for some reason, just continue to move east. You should run into the Fall Court sooner or later. And don’t use your magic unless you have no other option. We have no idea how the Forest will react. That includes you, elf.”

Treyton nods gravely, his expression uncharacteristically grim, while Aleksander offers a two-fingered salute and an irreverent, “Aye aye, captain.”

Blaze’s glare darkens. “This is serious…or do you not care about Kassandra’s safety?”

I can practically see the change take over Aleksander. His cocksure grin fades, and his eyes turn hard and steely.

“I care more about that female here than anyone else in this goddess-forsaken world. Don’t ever suggest otherwise.”

My pulse skitters at Aleksander’s heartfelt declaration. A strange tendril of warmth curdles through my stomach.

And all I can think is…why? Why me? Why now? All of the males have been throwing grand declarations my way, and I don’t understand the reasoning behind them. Is it just because of my powers? Are they trying to manipulate me? Is it possible they have developed…feelings for me?

Is it possible that I have developed feelings for them?

No, that’s insane. Crazy. Unheard of.

Right?

Blaze seems appeased by Aleksander’s response. The Fall Prince nods stiffly and focuses back on the Forest. He shrugs his pack farther up his shoulder and then repositions his bow.

Blaze and Aleksander carry so many weapons, it’s a miracle they can stand upright. Alongside his customary sword, Blaze has a bow, two daggers, and an ax.

Aleksander has about twelve daggers on his person—and those are only the ones I can see. Two of them are sheathed to his wrists, a few of them rest in the waistband of his pants, and there are more on his thigh. It seems almost impractical to carry so many weapons, but Aleksander assured me that “what others deem as impractical is practicality at its finest.”

I chose to let it go.

I only have my harbara , and Treyton has his sword. Treyton, who isn’t as skilled in weapons as the other two males, told me that he can do more damage with his sword than he could with a thousand daggers. And since I’ve seen firsthand how skilled he is with that particular weapon…

I believe him.

“Remember. Stay close together. Don’t try to be the hero.” Blaze takes a shuddering breath, his large chest expanding. “Let’s go.”

The four of us step into the Forest.

Almost immediately, the tree branches swallow the sunlight. It’s not completely dark—more of a dull, metallic gray—but it’s a startling contrast to the bright world we just left behind.

Leaves and twigs crackle beneath our feet as we venture forward, one slow step at a time.

On closer inspection, I notice that the majority of trees are naked, devoid of any leaves. The branches are perfectly still, almost as if the wind can’t reach them.

“It’s so…silent,” Treyton whispers.

Now that I’m paying attention to it, I realize he’s right. It’s an unnatural, eerie type of silence. There are no critters running through the Forest. No owls hooting or crickets chirping or mulnios galloping. And with no wind breaching the tapestry of trees, the branches don’t shake or shudder.

Trepidation weaves its way down my spine.

Runt releases a high-pitched squeak and runs farther ahead. He pushes up on his hind legs and bats at the air.

“What is he doing?” Blaze mutters.

Runt chitters again, glances back over his shoulder, and then takes off in a run to the left.

“I think the furry beast wants us to follow him,” Aleksander says with feigned cheerfulness.

He takes an immediate step after my pacon, but Blaze places a hand on the elf’s chest, stopping him.

“Wait,” the Fall Prince instructs, frowning. His brows pucker. “Do you hear that?”

I strain my ears, but it proves futile. Ever since I healed the shopkeeper from the black virus, I haven’t been able to hear out of one of my ears.

“I don’t hear anything,” Treyton says.

“Me neither.” Aleksander’s eyes narrow on nothing in particular. “Are you sure you’re not losing it with your old age?”

“Oh, fuck you?—”

A high-pitched screech rips through the air, the cry preceded by a creature racing through the thicket.

It looks fae—though that term may be too generous for the demented monster. Its body is emaciated and gray, long and willowy. Its arms are almost the same size as his body, and they end in sharp claws. Large, bulbous eyes peer back at me from a sunken face. Wisps of gray hair sprout from the top of its head.

“Fuck.” The color drains from Blaze’s face. “It’s a wraith.”

“Don’t they usually travel in packs?” Aleksander sounds surprisingly calm, given the situation.

He lazily unsheathes one of his daggers and spins it around in his hand.

“I only see one,” Treyton says.

Famous last words.

More and more wraiths pour out of the trees, all similar in appearance to the first one, though they vary in size. Some are small, barely reaching my hip, while others tower over even Aleksander.

The three males immediately surround me in a protective formation.

“Do we kill them?” Treyton’s voice is a hushed murmur, rife with tension.

“No. I think it would be fun to invite them over for tea and crumpets,” Aleksander drawls.

“Both of you, shut the fuck up!” Blaze bellows.

As the three of them speak, I allow my harbara to slip into my hand. Immediately, my whip uncoils itself and slithers around my feet.

I bring my left glove up to my mouth and bite it off. The material falls to the ground, leaving my hand bare.

I have no idea if my powers will work on these creatures, but it’s worth a try. I refuse to allow these monsters to rip me apart.

“Kassandra, stay between us,” Blaze instructs as the wraiths begin to close in.

They’re all around us. One of them hisses, and I can see row after row of razor-sharp teeth, the color a strange mixture between yellow and brown.

I ignore the Fall Prince and lower myself into a ready position—legs shoulder-width apart and arms loose. Cayetana made me practice this just last night.

The tallest wraith pauses a short distance away from us. It cants its misshapen head to the side. The rest of the creatures freeze as well.

Watching.

Waiting.

My heart pounds rapidly. I can feel it crashing against my breastbone. Fear crawls its way up my throat.

“What are they waiting for? A formal invitation?” Aleksander asks.

As if Aleksander’s indolent statement was the cue they’ve been waiting for, the largest roars, spittle visibly flying from its mouth.

And then all of the wraiths charge at us as one.