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28. Chapter Twenty Eight

Ice bites into my palm, a fresh sting of pain against my already numb flesh as we dig against the packed snow. Overnight, the storm blew a dense mound of snow blocking the only entrance and exit to our cave. Small rays of sunlight filter through as we clear the entryway and crawl out of the small space. Glancing out of the tunnel, the sky above us is crystalline blue, not a cloud in sight.

"Fucking storms," I mumble under my breath as I kick at a pile of snow and send it flying into the air.

"Hey, at least we did nae freeze to death." Nero yawns and stretches. His large membranous wings glow shades of cobalt blue as the sun hits them. I reach out a hand in fascination to the wing closest to me.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used—" He quickly snaps his wings back, out of my reach, folding them gracefully behind him.

"It's rude to touch someone's wings without permission," Nero says, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "They're extremely sensitive."

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were so sensitive, you big baby. Can you blame me? My friend of over a century suddenly surprises me that he's a giant lizard." I throw my hands up in surrender and grin. He responds by punching me soundly in my left arm. "Ugh!" I grunt, rubbing the sore spot.

"Aye, and look who's the big baby now. And I'm no lizard, ye daft arse—I'm a drake shifter." He laughs, then jumps down the ledge below us, making his way to the bottom of the ravine.

I don't deign him with a response. Besides, we don't have the time. "How do you know we are going the right way?" I scramble down after him, my boots sliding on the loose rocks and ice. "Her tracks are bound to be completely covered after last night's storm, unless you're going to tell me you have an extremely heightened sense of smell?"

"Think with yer head, Princeling." Nero stretches his arm towards the sky. A thin trickle of smoke is barely visible above the treeline before the wind whisks it away.

My heart begins to speed in my chest, my mouth dry as I take off at a run to the other side. Only one thought in my head.

Mine.

***

"She's gone!" I yell, slamming my hand into the stone fireplace. The pain radiating from the impact barely registers as I turn to face Nero.

"She canna have gone far. The ashes are still warm." He attempts to soothe me as he crouches beside me, then places his bare hand in the half burnt logs and soot. "Maybe they left a note."

Rage boils inside me. To be this close and not find her makes me want to tear the world apart. The longer it takes us to find her, the more my agony deepens. Is this what the fated link does to us? Take over so all I can desire is her safety? I didn't know the physical pang my heart bears as it pumps harder, trying to reconcile the fact that she's not here. I thought this was it—that we would find her. I close my eyes, my hands clenching at my sides.

Where are you, Sybil?

"Aramis." Nero's voice is distant.

The guilt and the need twist into me, slowly pulling me apart. There are a million things I could have done differently had I not been so blinded by my own prejudices and fear. I should have listened to her in the dungeons, reasoned with her, freed her. What kind of man sees his mate thrown in the gutters and leaves without looking back. If Sybil does not grant me forgiveness I will understand. Why the fuck would a gentle and brave soul like her see past all my disgraceful flaws. I barely know if I can forgive myself, but I have to try, even if it's the last thing I do. The urgency to see her drives my every move. The desire to ensure that she is safe is the only thing working in my brain and in my heart.

I have to find her.

"Aramis!" Nero's voice is louder. A steady pressure grips my forearms through my leather gauntlets. Opening my eyes, I see we're standing in the middle of a small cyclone, the wind ripping the objects off the shelves and smashing them into the walls. Above us the roof shakes from the force of my wind magic. I pull my power back in and the wind slowly dwindles to a light breeze making the objects fall to the floor with a crash, except for one small scrap of fabric which floats towards the floor.

"I'm sorry." My voice falters as I turn away from my best friend and snatch the piece of fabric. I lift it to my face, inhaling deeply. It smells of rich lavender, vanilla, and black tea. I breathe in her scent. My mate's scent. "She was here," I say, my thumb idly caressing the worn fabric in my hands. Her cloak. The memory of clasping it around her neck the night we raided her house surfaces. Even then my senses tingled as my fingers brushed against the bare column of her throat. I sigh, suddenly aware of my indifference even when the truth was right in front of me.

"Of course she was here, ye dolt." Nero smirks, laughing at me. "And if ye want any chance of catching up with her, we have to leave now. She's with Kela, I can smell her all over this cabin, despite your destruction. She'll have Sybil halfway across the country by nightfall if she has her way."

"What are you talking about. Who's Kela?" I growl, my body tensing possessively.

Nero reaches over and grips my shoulder, staring me in the eye. "Calm yerself down, lover lad. Kela is a close ally. She's one of the good ones, like me." He points to his chest in emphasis.

"Where is she taking Sybil?" I ask. We pick up the pace as I spot the tracks leading away from the cabin. Two sets of petite boot prints in the snow.

"If I ken Kela as much as I think I do, she'll be taking Sybil to the Southeastern rebel camp. It's nae safe to tarry here in the woods, especially with Tricella in a rage. She's a seer, she'll have sensed her looking for the unicorn." I look at him wide-eyed at the news that the shifters have a seer of their own.

"That crafty little wolf." Nero grins as he points at the ground. "See how she doubles back and then heads off in another direction? She's trying to lead someone off to break their neck falling down one of these ravines. Ye would have kept walking and fallen straight through the snow, had I nae scented it."

Nero breaks off a branch and pokes directly in front of the path I was about to push through the foliage. The snow falls away between the roots revealing a downward steep slope to snow covered rocks below. He points to our left where another set of footsteps continues.

"Two more steps and at best ye'd have broken yer leg. At worst, ye'd have fallen through and broken yer neck."

We turn and head into the direction of the other footprints. I'm more careful about where I place my weight, which slows our progress.

"This is taking too long," I complain after hours of hiking uphill. Each step is a struggle, the weight of the accumulated snow pulling at my boots like unseen hands determined to pull me down. Impatience simmers within me like a restless flame. "Can't you just use your dragon powers and fly above the tree line?" I grumble, pushing aside a branch in my way. A yank at my collar has me stumbling backwards. A large sharp icicle falls directly where I was just standing. I throw a grateful glance in Nero's direction.

"One: who would save yer ass? Two: I'm a drake, nae a dragon. It's different. Imagine how unicorns and horses are different–do you remember all of Sybil's protesting that she nae knew how to ride a horse?" Nero chuckles at the memory. "If I were to fly us above, we might miss their tracks. Kela is a great huntress and has more than one trick up her sleeve. Come, ye impatient arse, and follow behind me." He skirts around the tree and continues following the path. For being my best friend, he can sometimes be an asshole. I glance up at the sun as it rises further in the sky.

"Nero, you're lucky tha–" Cold steel presses against my throat. My body tenses at the blade biting into my skin. A collection of blood wells from its shallow cut.

"I'd stop, if I were you," a female voice growls in my ear. "And what is a princeling doing, gallivanting about my forest in the middle of winter?"

I slowly move to grab the dagger sheathed at my waist, but I pause as another blade presses into my gut.

"Not one more move, pretty boy, or you'll finally get to see that princes bleed out just like the rest of us." I freeze as the blade presses deeper against my skin. "Now, I'm only going to repeat myself one more time. What are you doing out here?"

The female's breath is warm against my cheek as I contemplate my options. Am I fast enough to detain her with my wind magic before she slices my throat open? If I tell her the truth, will she believe me?

"I–" Sweat perspires on my brow and palms despite the frigid winter air.

"Kela that's enough now," Nero chuckles as he turns around and sees my predicament. "Ye've had yer fun, lass. Let him go." Pain radiates down the back of my leg as she kicks me, forcing me to my knees. The steel blade never waivers or leaves my throat.

"This is not funny. How dare you bring one of them here, Nero Lockheed. Let alone their Prince." She spits at Nero. "I thought you were one of us!"

"Where is she?" I growl, ignoring the bite of ice and rocks beneath my knees. I have to find Sybil. I have to tell her I'm sorry.

"Shut up, you elemental trash! She is none of your concern now." The blade cuts deeper into my skin, pressing against my windpipe. My heart pounds in my chest but that familiar tug stops me and I cast my gaze through the trees begging for a glimpse of her.

"Aye Kela, I understand your protective nature for Sybil." Nero cautiously steps between us, and this girl–Kela–tenses behind me.

"Let him go. He will nae harm her, as he—"

"—Nero, don't you dare—" I bark at him. That's not his secret to tell.

"Don't come any closer." Kela interrupts us. "Tell me why you've brought the fucking Prince of Shadowvale with you?" Her voice cracks on the last syllable.

Pounding footsteps catch my attention, my eyes scanning the forest. Nero turns, crouching into a defensive position.

Sybil breaks through the tree line, her hair streaming behind as she races towards us. Her hazel eyes jump from Nero, then to Kela holding me in a kneeling position on the ground. She digs her heels into the ground coming to a stop, chest heaving.

"KELA! You're ali–!" She exclaims but stops in her tracks as soon as her eyes settle on me, meeting my gaze. My pulse begins to race as I take in the way shifts of sunlight cut through the trees, illuminating her face. A glistening, twisted horn of white protrudes from the star at her forehead. I have the sudden desire to run my fingers up the side of her face and down its length.

"What's he doing here?" Sybil asks quietly, her cupid bow lips pursing in a grim line. She looks between Nero and Kela, but not back at me. Look at me, Sybil! Goddess knows, there is so much I want to say…

"That's exactly what I was just trying to figure out." Kela says.

"Kela, let him go. He's nae here to harm Sybil or take her back to Shadowvale." Nero sighs exasperatedly. He relaxes his position and sheaths his ax. "He's her–"

"Nero, goddess-damnit." I croak out.

Nero looks at me then back at Kela, silently pleading with her. "Here to help me."

"Why should I believe you?" she snarls.

"When have I ever given you, nae, the rest of the pack, any reason not to believe in me?" He opens empty palms towards her and hesitantly takes a step towards us. "I will nae harm you, nae will the Prince." Kela and Nero have a silent battle of wills, and after a moment of fierce debate I cannot decipher, she relents.

"Fine. One wrong move and next time I won't hesitate." Kela removes her blades and shoves me to the ground. I rub at my neck, blood smearing under my fingers as I push myself to stand. Sybil finally looks at me, and her eyes widen in surprise and she steps forward making my heart skip a beat.

"You're hurt." Sybils murmurs softly–just for the two of us. She raises a hand in my direction and briefly touches the wound, then turns to Kela, as if she just remembered something. "I thought you were behind me Kela. I thought I lost you, silly wolf!"

"And I thought I told you to run." Kela sighs exaggeratedly. "How did you end up here anyways? I told you we were going east," she adds, raising an eyebrow.

"I just followed… a feeling," Sybil says sheepishly, her eyes turning back on mine. Did she sense the bond as I do?

Kela flips a dagger in the air before pointing it at Nero. "Meanwhile, I caught the scent of this one mingling with this one." Her eyes narrow, the blue pupils glaring at me.

"Aye, and you ken we were coming to find you two." Nero interjects. "I told ye—"

"That wasn't the plan!" Kela responds sharply, pointing her dagger at him. "The plan was you would meet me and the unicorn alone and help escort her to the camp."

"Aye, Kela, and plans change." Nero grumbles as he crosses his arms across his chest.

"Does he even know?" She lifts an eyebrow at him pointing her dagger back at me.

"Do I know that my best friend for a century has kept his half-shifter life a secret from me?" I quirk a brow in amusement. Kela and Sybil's eyes widen with shock, clearly not expecting me to know the whole story. I laugh, just to spite them–well Kela, at least. "We've moved past that, and have made our amends. Now—please, would you stop pointing that dagger around before someone gets hurt?"

"You hate shifters." Kela accuses, still pointing that dagger open in the air, and to my dismay, it's pointing at me. "Your whole family hates shifters and wants nothing but to steal our powers and send us to work in the mines." When I begin to protest, Sybil steps in, narrowing her eyes at me.

"She is not wrong," Sybil says, confrontationally. I open my mouth to protest again, but Sybil almost sneers at me. "Don't deny it, Prince. It's a mercy that I actually survived this kidnapping let alone what the Queen did to me. What you let her do to me. You have always made it abundantly clear what exactly you think of me, and what you think of shifters, no matter how many times I proved you wrong," her voice catches and she drops her gaze to the ground. I glance at Nero quickly, and the expression on his face only seems to tell me, Easy there, Aramis, you arse. Be. Careful.

"I–" the words caught in my throat. How do I explain the sordid history, and the way that Sybil has quickly captivated me and haunted my every moment? How do I tell her I was falling for her so fast on that trip from her small village to Shadowvale that I didn't know it was happening? How do I tell her that I have no excuse for how I behaved but that I will spend whatever is left of this lifetime winning her trust back? I exhale slowly. I don't need to tell her everything–yet. I steady myself as I make myself focus on Sybil. She's been in my dreams, upsetting the very foundation I stand on.

She's my mate.

I exhale once more, and when Sybil finally locks eyes with mine, I tell her just a little of the story. "I did–I mean, I have hated shifters since the night they murdered my mother." Sybil's eyes widen, but it encourages me to go on. I clear my throat and begin again. "I know now, that I have let that anger color my judgment of your people–of you–before having the chance to truly know them, and–to know you."

She stands watching me and it takes everything not to cross the space between us and crush her to me.

"I'm sorry. I know I've done you a disservice–as well as all shifters of Shadowvale." I continue, expecting bile to rise in my throat, only to discover that I feel a keen sense of relief, sharing this aloud–at last. "I cannot expect you to forgive me, but I hope you will allow me to get to know you. I just want a chance to mend this rift that I created. I am sorry, Sybil. For all my mistakes, my fear, my ignorance. I have been a fool. I should have ripped those fucking bars off of that cell and carried you out myself. You are the reason I stand here today with eyes wide open. You never gave up on me so I will not give up on you. There will only ever be you, since the moment I laid eyes on you."

Sybil casts dubious eyes on me and I wait patiently for her reply. My heart beats wildly as though it will burst from my chest of its own accord. What will I do if she denies my olive branch? If she denies me forgiveness, there is no opportunity to right my wrongdoings.

The silence that hangs between us is my undoing, and I unravel falling to my knees before her, desperate for her to understand everything that's happened in the weeks that have passed. "Goddess–Sybil," I plead, thankless in my begging. "Say something." I take a deep breath, like a man awaiting his death sentence and let my eyes tell everything I am not ready to say out loud.

"Aramis." My name is a breath on her lips. Sybil pauses, gathering her own thoughts. My name on her lips is a cocktail of lavender and honey. I close my eyes and hang my head, anticipating her rejection and the very undoing of my soul. It is eternity waiting on bated breath before the cool pads of her fingers trail along my throat, followed by a warm tingle of magic. "We cannot choose the life we are born into, but we can rise up to overcome our prejudices. Without bearing great sorrows and burdens, greatness goes unnoticed."

Opening my eyes, I stare in wonder at her hazel ones peering mere inches into my own. I've laid my soul at her feet and she hasn't stomped it out of existence. I exhale with relief.

I'm sorry. I tell Sybil with my eyes. I'm so sorry I hurt you and put you in this terrible situation. The only consolation I have now is that I can begin the work of fixing all of my mistakes and become the man she deserves.

Kela clears her throat behind us and Sybil shakes her head as if waking from a dream. I watch as she slowly backs away from me, curling a lock of hair around her finger absentmindedly. Exhaling quietly I meet Nero's glance who lifts his chin up in acknowledgement and praise.

"While this moment of clarity is truly inspiring," Kela says with mocking patience, "We can't just sit here all day." She turns to Nero, flipping her daggers in the air again until she points it once more in my direction. Goddess, she really has to stop it. "He's your problem. The elders are not going to like this, draken."

"The elders will just have to deal with it–" Nero interjects with a pointed look in my direction but interrupts himself when Kela's eyes take on a faraway look. "Kela. Kela!" Kela's body relaxes, then sways side to side. I have seen that look hundreds of times before. She's having a vision.

We remain silent during the long minutes that pass before Kela's eyes open and immediately glance from me to Sybil. Her body trembles before she lifts a hand to her forehead and falls to her knees.

"What is it?" Sybil asks, rushing forward. "What did you see?" She grabs her face between her hands.

Kela's eyes slowly focus on her and then glance back to Nero and I.

"I saw the queen. There was a male with her, I've never been able to see him before." Her hands tremble as she braces herself on Sybil's arm. When she is composed, Kela stares accusingly at me. "He told the queen that you were hunting the unicorn, not for her, but for yourself. He told her that you want her power for your own purposes," she growls.

Fuck! "Kieran." I growl under my breath. "That no good son of a bitch."

Does Kieran know about the mating bond?

Kela looks at me disbelievingly and sneers, "Kieran. The queen's seer. They tell no lies–we tell no lies."

"It is a lie!" My teeth grind together, heat rising up my neck. I turn pleading eyes to Sybil. "It's not true–I swear. You've met that slimy two-faced deceitful ass and know him for what he is. You have to…"

"He must have seen our plans to come find you, but not take you back, then twisted his vision." Nero interjects, always the diplomat—always the peacemaker. "He's always trying to find ways to worm into her good graces from the day he set foot in the palace. I'm surprised he's not warming her bedsheets already."

I watch emotions play across Sybil's face. She's been so quiet and contemplative.

"That's not all." Kela's voice is low and serious. "The queen replied that if she can't have her, no one will. He told her where we are. She's sending something after us. We have to go."

"That's preposterous!" I exclaim. "My father would never let her harm me. I'm the sole heir to Shadowvale."

Kela turns mournful eyes to me, her mouth softening into a frown. "I did not see your father in the throne room, Prince Aramis. His chair was empty." For once, her tone is not ironic or sarcastic.

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