Chapter 47

Calen

My gaze turns to the east as I scan the horizon in hopes of spotting a rider across the bridges, copper hair glinting like embers with flickering shades of auburn, but come up empty.

Standing a few feet from the High Lord’s pavilion, I close my eyes as the rays of the dying sun hit my face and take a deep breath.

Warmth tingles at the tips of my fingers. My eyes snap open to scan the soldiers moving around me.

“Cal.”

Footsteps tell me of Azran’s approach, Ela not far behind. Our gazes fuse in tacit accord, propelling us into motion.

A knot forms in my stomach and I repress the urge to fist my hands. We’ve come too far to be betrayed now.

I make eye contact with the soldiers I pass and the tingle in my hand intensifies, its warmth spreading to my knuckles.

My hand moves imperceptibly closer to my sabre, only I’m surrounded by our own soldiers, all wearing armor, some even helmets, and I have no idea who I’m looking for.

I scan their faces, following the intensifying warmth spreading to my palm and reorienting my steps as smoothly as possible to avoid drawing attention. I’ve always walked the ranks of the army, but this time it’s different, because I haven’t regained the trust of all of these Fae.

When the heat in my hand becomes almost unbearable, I check my palms to make sure there’s no sign of magic. Nothing can reveal I’m onto the traitor in our ranks.

I come to a halt between two rows of soldiers. Some are sitting, talking in low voices, while others stand, their tense faces betraying fear.

Spotting Naar’s squadron a short distance away, I lock eyes with the red-haired captain, and he disappears in the mass of soldiers when I don’t return his nod.

I return my focus to Az and the soldiers around me, hair rising on my arm. My head snaps to a group on my right. It happens so quickly, I almost don’t notice the Fae’s cerulean gaze aimed at me like daggers. The next second, her blond head escapes into the sea of soldiers.

“Az,” I whisper as I stride past him. I don’t need to turn to know he’s following, taking a wider path to cut off the traitor with Ela. It’s the blue-eyed Fae. I know it in my blood.

Come on, think like a traitor. You’ve done it before.

She’s not running yet. If she were, she would leave a trail as the army split in her path. Running will remain her last resort, for it will identify her immediately. Her best bet is to walk out.

The warmth in my hand is dying down, so I pick up the pace.

The army is no more agitated than before, but I’ve never been more on edge. We can’t let this traitor escape this close to battle and risk shattering our soldiers’ resolve.

“Make way,” I say as I hop over a soldier laying down and cut through a group of Fae to head east.

The traitor knows she’s been found, so she can only head in one direction. Daenia. Her only chance is to make for the Water Fae city and hide until she can join Airdan’s forces.

When the edge of the army is in sight and I still see no sign of the blue-eyed Fae, I break into a run, the heat in my palm returning tenfold.

Agitation stirs ahead, and it’s like the army closes around me as soldiers stand and shouts fill the air. The mass of fighters presses around me, gathering to our eastern flank.

“Make way.” My voice booms, but it’s soon outmatched by the commotion erupting ahead.

Metal clangs and my blood freezes. There is no mistaking that sound. I can summon it every time I close my eyes.

“Make way,” I repeat, pushing soldiers aside and surging towards the fight.

A flash of red hair appears in the mass of bodies, and I crane my neck to see. Naar is engaging a soldier, sword drawn. He spins to defend himself, and the blond-haired traitor comes into view between a pair of soldiers in front of me.

I push them aside.

“Move. Move. Move.”

When I make it to the edge, soldiers are frozen in place around me, unsure which fighter to side with.

A growl tears from Naar’s throat as the traitor’s blade slices through his thigh, and he falls back. I jump forward, unsheathing my sword.

“Seize her,” I order as I lunge for her, but she’s already breaking into a run, freed of her last obstacle.

A group of soldiers follow and screams fill the air.

I don’t spare a glance for Naar, still on the ground.

The traitor climbs a small hill and I struggle to close the distance. A snarl leaves my lips as I strain to run faster.

She disappears over the hill and my stomach drops. Seconds later, I reach the other side, blinded by the setting sun ready to disappear on the horizon. My hand flies to my eyes to block the light reflecting in the river and I stop dead in my tracks.

A Fae is standing on the bridge with their back turned, their long braid flowing in the wind. A white silk ribbon intertwines with their dark hair.

Mor, a short blade in hand, crimson dripping from the tip, towers over a body at his feet.

My pulse quickens as relief floods my body. I lower my sword.

Thank gods for this old bastard.

Mor meets my gaze as I take position beside him.

“Naar.”

His eyes widen as the name leaves my lips, and I nod towards the army behind us. He takes off at a run, and I turn to face the soldiers gathering around me.

The mass of soldiers splits as Az emerges, his widened eyes fixed on the horizon. Lifting his arm, he points behind me.

“Cal.”

Purple and grey decorate the bruised sky as the last fiery sliver of sun vanishes below the sea’s dark rim, plunging the world in shadows except for a single light.

Flickering flames leap towards the darkened sky, a false dawn cresting the bleak horizon in hues of orange fury as a seething inferno devours the edge of the world, and Daenia.

With urgency in every fiber of my body, I call my men to arms and bark orders until soldiers run back to camp to warn the rest of the army.

I’m about to turn back when a flash of red catches my eye. A rider is crossing the bridge, the hooves of their horse hammering the ground.

Vesta jumps off her mount the second she reaches the other side before running to us.

“Airdan is attacking on two fronts,” she lets out between pants.

I reach for her as she stumbles.

“Half of his fleet anchored in Daenia—the rest made for Lóna’s southern shores and Ecya.”

“He’s going to try to encircle Daenia and trap us,” Azran’s voice booms in the air.

“Tharrion won’t have enough men to push him back,” I say, doom seeping through my body.

“We need to send forces south,” Azran agrees.

Vesta eyes dart between the two of us.

“I’ll go,” I offer. Vesta’s mouth opens, ready to protest, but I silence her with a glare. “If our defenses fall in Ecya, Lóna and Brimora will be at Airdan’s fingertips. With the Váyan Sea and the Eidune Range in his back, he’ll storm Kalar and march on what’s left of us.”

Azran responds with a sharp nod as I turn to him and extend a hand. He grips my forearm tightly.

“Give them hell, brother. We’ll hold off Airdan in Daenia.”

Az leaves to gather the army, and Vesta faces me. Her fist hits my chest before I can utter a single word, and pain flares in my ribs as she readies herself for another assault.

“Why do you always have to sacrifice yourself for us?”

Vesta tries to land another hit, but I catch her fist mid-air. Alarm stains the verdant pools of her irises, and I pull her into an embrace.

“I’ll be fine, Dove.” I infuse quiet steel into each syllable, hoping to quell the tempest in her eyes.

Her body relaxes in my arms as I rest my head atop hers.

“I’m sorry for everything. These past months have been unbelievably difficult, and you were the only light in the dark.”

She pushes back, features twisting in outrage.

“You don’t get to say goodbye like this.”

I raise a hand to cradle her delicate cheek.

“You won’t be rid of me so easily, Dove.”

“I’m sorry I got scared.” Her voice breaks as she kisses my palm. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” I counter. “I’ll join you in Daenia as soon as I can.”

She nods before stepping back.

“I am a tough bastard to kill.”

I shoot her a wink, but the smile she offers doesn’t reach her emerald eyes.

With trembling breaths, I tear my hand from her face, the warmth of her touch making the cold road ahead cut all the sharper.

Turning away, I force my legs to obey as the weight of unspoken words crushes me.

With each agonizing step I take, regret eats at me, but I don’t turn back. If I do, I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to walk away from her again.

Strong fingers encircle my forearm, anchoring me in place with pressure and silent pleading.

Vesta yanks my arm, pulling me to her as her mouth crashes on mine.

With quaking breaths, I commit the curved shape of her lips to memory in a kiss that echoes vows still unspoken between us.

“You come back to me, you hear me?” she whispers against my lips.

“I promise.”