by Jack Whitney
“What happened? Monthly patrols gone wrong?”
“It’s not your business.”
A laugh emitted from the two Hunters still standing. Aydra glared at their annoyingly handsome faces. She didn’t recognize the one to her left, with his mop of tight brown curls fluffed on his head, the dark caramel tone of his skin glistening in the fire’s light.
“You’re hurt,” Draven noted.
A flash of green showed behind his already emerald irises, and she remembered he could see in the dark.
“Her horse is hurt as well,” called one of the men. “Looks like trees had a bit of fun at her expense.”
“Shadow thieves,” Draven muttered as he looked at the whelps wrapped around her ankles.
Aydra’s jaw tensed. “Don’t look so happy. Your glee for my being harmed might come across as macabre to your men.”
“My men know of the darkness themselves,” Draven smarted. “Your lying in it makes the pain dance in their eyes.”
The curly haired Hunter grinned and lifted his sword behind his head, stretching his limbs. “She looks frightened,” he mocked.
“Fear has no place in my core,” Aydra spat.
“It should,” Draven said. “Where is your Second?”
“Taking care of my sister. Back to the Village for help,” she admitted. “You can leave me. I will be fine waiting for them here.”
“What bewitchment have you placed on my Ulframs?” Draven asked as though he were ignoring her other words.
“Your Ulframs?” she mocked. “And here I thought these creatures were free.”
Draven’s jaw clenched, and he muttered a quick “Dammit” under his breath. “Dunthorne, Bael, go back to the kingdom and get a cart. I’ll wait with the Sun Queen and her horse. We’ll need one to get it out of here.”
“I don’t need your help,” she argued. “Lex will—”
“You’re hurt. Your Dreamer friends won’t make it back inside this Forest without certain death. And they’ll be four days away. You come with us, or you can thirst to death.”
She hated that he was right.
“You don’t have to wait with me,” she told him.
He ignored her and sat down in front of one of the trees, leaning his back against it. “Don’t think this is out of pity. I’ll not watch one of these Noctuans rob me of what is mine.”
A brow raised on his face. “Excuse me?”
“Your death,” he informed her. “Being the one to kill you. It’s been promised to me since we were children.”
“Perfect chance, Venari,” she said, opening her arms. “I’m hurt. Alone in your realm. Strike me down.”
He stared at her a moment, and then he shook his head. “Too easy. It’d be my luck you were faking this whole thing.”
“Oh yes. Faking my horse being hurt during the Dead Moons, surrounded by Noctuans, just so I can ambush you into a fight,” she smarted.
“Sounds about right.”
“No, it sounds like you’re scared of me.”
His jaw tightened, and he gave her a full once over. “I’ll not pretend to know the secrets you keep. Especially with you so cozily sitting there with an Ulfram in your lap.”
Aydra eyed his deliberate gaze a moment, and she turned back to the Alpha. Is he always like this? she asked it.
My life is his. I dare not speak ill of him.
I didn’t realize Noctuans were so loyal.
“What was that?” Draven called to her.
“I did not say anything to you,” she replied. “You’re hearing things.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THEY WAITED LONG enough in the dark for Draven’s men that Draven actually fell asleep against a tree, faint snores evacuating his body. Aydra could just see him from the firelight. Leaned back against the trunk, legs crossed in front of him, strong arms crossed over his chest… The peace on his features was something she’d not seen on him before.
Every now and then she would hear the crunch of leaves beneath feet that she couldn’t see, and the alpha Ulfram would growl in its direction, but never would it come so close to her that she could see it. And when she asked the Ulfram about it, she would tell her it was not her concern.
Her raven stood guard in the canopy above. Aydra’s eyes were threatening to close when she finally heard it tell her the Venari guard was coming.
Aydra turned to tell Draven his men were back, but when she turned, he was no longer sitting against the tree. She frowned into the darkness and turned back, only to find him crouched down suddenly behind her horse.
She jumped at the sight of him.
“Sweet Arbina, Venari,” she breathed, grasping at her chest. “Can you not do that?”
“Do what?” he asked as he continued to look at her horse’s injured hoof.
She willed her breaths to even, and glared in his direction. “That thing you do, sneaking up on people.”
He shrugged and met her gaze. “It’s really not my fault you don’t listen properly.”
Her jaw tightened just as his men backed up a cart next to the horse. Aydra reached out and stroked her horse, telling her it was okay. The men loaded her up gently, and Aydra felt a swell of gratitude for them.
Draven brushed his hands on his pants after and then reached a hand down to her. “Come along, Sun Queen. The darker ones will be out soon. We should get a move on.”
She swatted his hand away, and the Ulfram rose from her lap. “I can get up my self,” she spat. She pushed off the ground, ignoring the searing pain in her ankles, and then—
—fell straight into Draven’s arms.
He swooped her off her feet and into his arms before she could protest.
“Put me down, Venari!” she argued.
He rolled his eyes as he crossed the space to his great black horse. “Shut up before I shut you up,” he growled.
Her jaw clenched, and she winced at the pain now clamoring through her. He clicked his tongue twice, and the horse kneeled so he could place her on the saddle.
If she hadn’t been so angry, she would have been impressed.
The horse’s aubergine eyes radiated into her own, and she placed a hand on its neck.
What is your name? she asked it.
The horse’s weight fidgeted and it whinnied once. You hear me? it asked.
I do.
Faryn, it answered.
Draven was staring at her with a narrowed gaze when she started to respond to Faryn. She straightened and the horse rose to its feet again. Draven grabbed the back of the saddle and hoisted himself onto the beast behind her.
“What are you—If you think I want you anywhere near me after the musings of the last council meeting—”
“If I am not mistaken,” he cut her off, “It was you who came to me, and you who smoked my herb.”
Her jaw tensed.
A slow smile rose on his lips, and she heard him chuckle under his breath. “You and the prince are one in the same. Never one to turn down the release of your own reality.”
“You’ve smoked with Dorian?” she frowned.
“It’s not a matter you should bother yourself with.”
“Dorian is my younger brother. It is my business.”
“Funny how you Promised children call each other brothers and sisters when you’ve literally no more blood relation than any other two Lesser beings born of the Sun. Tell me, queen, how many of your previous so-called brothers and sisters have fucked one another as you do the Dreamer you like so much?”
Her heart constricted. If she could have slapped him, she would have, but her only choice was to elbow his stomach hard behind her. He grunted in response, and she heard his breath catch.
“What the Promised have done before me is none of your concern, nor is it any of my own business,” she hissed. “And as for who I choose to share a bed with—”
“Let me guess,” he interjected. “Not my business either?”
“It is the very last thing you should ever concern
yourself with.”
The silence of the wood consumed them as they walked back to the Venari home. She ignored the heat of his body behind hers and tried to listen for any creatures around them. The Ulfram pack had not followed, and neither had the others that had stayed with her earlier. It surprised her how at ease she felt surrounded by the darkness. Stark darkness. She couldn’t see anything. The Venari could see enough in the dark that they were able to move without the use of the firelight, but she was blinded by the black of the night.
A chill suddenly ran down Aydra’s spine. She couldn’t hear a voice. But what she felt drove a shudder to her core. She suddenly felt empty. As though her insides had been ripped clean from her body. Her stomach lurched into her throat.
“There’s something around us,” she managed, her hand gripping Draven’s thigh to steady herself.
“What?”
“Something—” her body wavered on the horse, and she gripped the horn of the saddle in her other hand as her breaths shortened. An emptiness began to fill her mind. She shook her head and blinked profusely, trying to shake the feeling.
“You don’t feel it?” she breathed. “It feels as though an emptiness is crawling in my mind.”
The wind brushed through the forest. Draven’s body tensed behind her. He reached around and grabbed the reigns, pulling back on his horse.
“Off the horses,” Draven managed. “Into the canopy.”
Draven dismounted in one swift movement, boots colliding with the earth. She was startled by the sudden feeling of his hands pulling her from the saddle. “Get on my back.”
She tried to take a deep breath, and then she shook her head. “I’m not—”
“I don’t have time for your protests,” he growled. “If you wish to live and have your broken filly be spared, you’ll obey my orders. Now.”
The cold shudder latched onto her again, and she felt him turn his back to her. She leaned down and grasped her arms around his neck, hooking her legs around his waist. They walked a short distance to what she assumed was a tree.
“Hang on tight,” he told her. “We’re going up.”
Her horse screamed out for her.
Quiet, she told her. Do not make a sound. All of you.
“What was that?” Draven asked her as he pulled them up the branches.
“Nothing. Just relishing being so near you, Venari,” she said sarcastically.
“You can relish it another day. For now, you’ll not utter another word.”
He pulled them up into the tree canopy quickly, and he took one of his men’s hand to make it up to the final branch.
Aydra closed her eyes as they reached a large steady branch. She couldn’t see the creature. But she could feel it moving in the darkness. Four legs. Stalking the ground as a whisper. The shudder of darkness bled through her muscles. She’d never felt such a darkness. As though black were as bright of a color as the sun.
She tried to shake the feeling of it consuming her. Her stomach turned. The creature’s purr vibrated her core, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
“Aydra—”
The noise of his voice was a distant echo. She hardly felt him squeeze her hand as she felt her grip slipping. Darkness spun around her.
This was an abyss she felt herself falling into. Her grip on Draven’s back slipped.
She fell.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WET DIRT MET her body. She winced at the pain of the root hitting her hip. But she didn’t have time to register any more than that.
Vomit evacuated from her insides. Her head began to spin. She rose to her hands and knees and clenched her eyes closed.
And then the ground froze beneath her.
She felt a fog moisture surround her body, the tiny droplets pressing into her skin. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. Something of a primordial purr vibrated her bones. It wasn’t a fear that rippled her body, it was an unfamiliarity. She pulled for the noise of the creature’s voice, attempting to connect with its core.
But she felt no core.
Only an empty void.
It pulled her in. She was a moth in its flame of obscurity.
A huff of a breath hit her face. Her hair blew back off her shoulders. She tried to shake the dizzy swim in her head as it clawed its way inside her mind, filling her own core with its shadows of death and necrosis.
I… I see you… she managed to cry out into the void. I am not your enemy.
I know no enemies.
The noise of its deafeningly low growl made her feel as though she was being pulled inside out. Her stomach lurched into her throat, and she puked nothingness. She gripped the dirt beneath her fingernails and shook her head again.
I know nothing but the dark.
The overwhelming growl of its voice leeched into her consciousness. A jagged breath left her lungs. Her eyes rolled, but she pushed it out and pressed herself to her knees.
The dark is your home.
Vomit left her again. A searing pain tore through her abdomen, as though the chasm of its being were consuming her. Her jaw clenched and she shook it out of her.
Come home… Aydra Ravenspeak.
Fire.
Feet hit the dirt behind her.
The beast’s face illuminated in the orange glow.
A skeleton head of a horse with wide horns stared at her. Its head was as large as her own steed was tall. No eyes. Teeth of fangs where nothing should have been in its mouth. She knew this creature.
This was the Spy.
A creature born to live in the shadows of darkness. Not a Noctuan, but rather a beast allowed to live in Duarb’s realm to feed on the soft-minded.
The fire above her moved, and she heard the noise of a horn echo in her ears.
The beast’s mouth opened, and it emitted such a shriek that the entire of the forest shook. The wind of it nearly blew her off balance.
Once more it sank into the darkness out of the light, and the corporeal insides of her core slowly began to return. Her breath heaved in her chest as though her lungs hadn’t received air in minutes.
Something moved beside her and she jumped, eyes wide at the fire torch suddenly in her face.
—And then she froze at the sight of the look on Draven’s face as he appeared kneeling beside her.
His jaw was taut, thin lips pressed into a line. The fire illuminated in his dark eyes. Nostrils flared. Every vein in his neck and the one on his forehead puckered as though they were straining for freedom. His sharp cheekbones looked like razors on his face. His features held the shadows in them as though his face were their home. She swallowed hard at the fearsome sight of him.
This was the Venari King she’d been warned about.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a lower voice than she was used to.
She couldn’t move. Her voice remained stuck in her throat.
Draven inhaled deeply and then reached for her. She flinched at his touch and backed away. He held up his hands and sat the torch slowly on the ground.
“Are you real?” she managed in a voice so hoarse she barely heard it.
His face softened just noticeably, and he held out his hand. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Her eyes narrowed at the man standing before her.
She remembered the stories of the Spy. Of the void that would plague your mind with tricks and consume your thoughts of what you wanted to hear, not the reality of it. Of how people would get stuck there in a realm that wasn’t their own, leaving their corporeal bodies to shrivel and die of hunger and thirst as your mind remained behind.
This wasn’t real.
She swallowed hard and looked at the figure before her, willing her eyes to look past the person before her.
I told you, Spy, she spoke to him. I. See. You.
A smile rose on Draven’s face, and his eyes flickered to solid black.
Darkness filled the forest once more.
Real breath returned to her lungs. It shortened as an attack on h
er body and she willed herself to calm, feeling the core of her raven push a comforting feeling through her bones. Her muscles felt of water against the ground.
Feet hit the dirt surrounding her. She jerked herself so quickly at the noise, she hit another root with her wrist.
The orange glow of fire lit up the dark as it had moments before. The real Draven stood over her, the same stern look she’d just seen on him in her vision plastered on his face. His fist clenched at his side, jaw tightened, and then he reached out for her.
She swatted his hand away and glared up at him. “Get your hands away from me,” she growled through clenched teeth. “You left me on this floor to be taken.”
“Would you have preferred for us to have interfered?” Draven asked with a tilt of his head.
Her nostrils flared in his direction, and she huffed shortly. “No,” she finally clarified.
“Look at that. A Queen not in need of saving,” Draven mumbled, eyes flickering to his men behind her as a ghost of a smile rose on his lips.
She wanted to slap his stupid face.
The men chuckled quietly, and Draven looked back down at her. “We were right here. Above you the entire time,” he swore.
Her fist clenched dirt in her palm. “And if I had been consumed by the Spy?”
“Actually would have saved me a bit of grief if you had.”
She heard a low growl emit from her own throat. He smirked and stretched his hand out once more.
“I’m impressed you knew him,” Draven mused then as she reluctantly took his arm. “How did you get out?”
Her jaw clenched as she was forced to put her arm around his shoulders so that she didn’t fall.
She hated herself for falling in his Forest.
“It’s—”
“Not my business.” Draven rolled his eyes and shook his head upon wrapping his hand around her waist. “Got it.”
It was the last she saw of his face before he plunged the fire into the wet dirt at her side.
“Come along, Spybreaker. We’ll all be consumed if we do not get moving.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AYDRA PASSED OUT halfway through the night on Draven’s horse. Draven assumed she would, consumed by the exhaustion of her meeting with the Spy. He wasn’t sure how she’d gotten herself out of its void. In all honestly, he thought he was going to have to carry her coreless body back to Magnice, have to somehow explain it to her brother and the people of their kingdoms that he’d let the Queen be drained of her insides.