“Thank you,” she said.
He grumbled and hunched his shoulders. She gripped his wing, one hand on each side of the break and jerked, hard.
Ronin cursed. The bone slid back in place.
She ignored Ronin’s heavy breathing and pressed around the tender skin. It felt realigned, but the swelling made it hard to tell. Hopefully, it wouldn’t require a healer or resetting.
“We need a splint.” His voice wasn’t as growly as normal. His gruff words, a command.
Ronin and his damn pride.
She turned away and left him at their crash site to find a straight stick. The gnarled branches of the nearby trees laughed down at her as she stomped along the mossy forest floor. Having rescued Ronin at dawn, there was plenty of daylight left. They needed to put more distance between Ronin’s abductors and whomever shot them from the sky.
At least the abductors were most likely headed in the wrong direction. They would assume Ronin and Cora flew straight home.
Maybe they should’ve made a break for the shoreline instead of heading farther south into Iom. If they had, though, they would’ve ended up at the cliffs with Cora too injured to fly and Ronin not experienced enough to cross the channel on his own. They would’ve been cornered with nowhere to go and no place to hide.
No. They had to hole up and heal without humans detecting their presence.
Cora scanned the forest. Who’d shot at them? Where were they now? Had the humans seen where they landed?
She sighed and continued to search for something straight enough to act as a splint. Each step sent pain racing through her body and her head throbbed. Her wing tips trailed against the forest floor and though the moss was soft and cushy, the drag applied pressure to her damaged wings and made her stomach twist with the pain.
The twig snapping was her only warning she wasn’t alone. She spun and flung her wings out, blocking the attack. Metal flashed and a dagger went flying. Cora faced a man with leather skin and a mean smile with more gum than teeth. He wore hunting gear. No bow or quiver. Not an archer, then.
The person who shot her down still lurked in the forest somewhere. What a lovely thought.
The hunter sneered and pulled another dagger from his vest. “I told the boys we went in the right direction.”
She pulled her wings back and unsheathed her own dagger, the longer, shinier one. Another quick scan of the dense woods didn’t reveal anyone else, but human hunting parties typically had four members and were known for their stealth. She’d never interacted with hunters, but Ava had mentioned the Hunter’s Quad before, and her father had warned her to look out for them.
“Did the large brute with you survive?” the man asked.
Like she’d tell him.
“He must be around here somewhere.” He held his dagger in front of his body in a hammer grip and surveyed the trees as if expecting Ronin to jump out at any minute. If only he knew the truth—the heir of the Eyrie was injured, most likely easily incapacitated, and a mere walk away.
Cora lunged forward with her dagger.
The man turned, deflecting her advance with his leather vambrace.
Cora clenched her teeth. Heart pounding, she stepped sideways and spun, dodging the hunter’s counter strike. His arm shot past to where she’d stood moments ago. She grabbed his extended arm, continued to spin, and slashed out with her dagger. The sharp blade cut into his back and ran diagonally down, slicing open his leather vest and the skin underneath.
The man howled, arching back.
Cora didn’t wait. She couldn’t afford to wait. Completing her spin, she reached out, clamped her hand on his shoulder and drove her dagger into his lower back, right where his kidney was. She yanked the weapon back and drove it in again.
And again.
And again.
Blood sprayed from the wounds and splattered against her hand and flying gear.
The man jerked with each strike and barked out a cross between a scream and a groan.
She pulled him closer, sliding her hand from his shoulder to cover his mouth and kept plunging her dagger into his side. Blood was everywhere. Her hand was slick with it. Her grip slipped off the dagger hilt, leaving the weapon stuck in his side.
The man slumped in her hold. She released him as he sagged to the forest floor. The blood had tainted the healthy green colour a dark red.
The sounds of the forest returned. During the struggle, her awareness had focused on the man, tuning out her surroundings. Now, the birds chatting in the trees and the gentle wind playing with the leaves thundered in her ears.
Oh, God. She’d killed two men in two days. Now she was a serial killer.
Studying the man at her feet didn’t relieve the shame twisting her gut. Pain had creased the man’s face, but now the expression eased. More blood pooled from his body.
Cora swallowed. Not the best way to die. Not the best way to kill. If she had more skill, she should’ve gone for the heart or neck. Next time…
Her stomach twisted more, and she staggered to the side to retch. Nothing came out.
Next time? There better not be a next time. Cora might’ve killed channel monsters in the past, but killing a man was entirely different.
She paused. Not all sapavians would agree with her. Would Ronin?
Ronin!
She gripped the slick handle of her dagger and yanked it from the hunter’s side. She didn’t have time to dwell or get sick. This hunter hadn’t travelled alone.
She hesitated before plucking his discarded weapon from the ground. She sheathed it in an empty compartment in her flying leathers before flicking her own dagger to get rid of the excess blood. Using the dead hunter’s pants, she wiped off the rest.
The birds seemed to find the show highly entertaining and increased their chatter to one another. Cora ignored them and walked back to where she’d left Ronin. Careful not to make more noise than she and the hunter had in their struggle, she placed each step softly on the mossy path. When she drew near the crash site, she spotted Ronin’s brilliantly white wings spread wide and glistening in the sun like a bright beacon. And target.
She stepped from the trees. “We need to move.”
Ronin turned and drew his uninjured wing back. Three men lay in a heap at his feet. The sword clutched in Ronin’s hand dripped blood from the tip.
They wore the same hunting leathers as the man she’d fought.
“You don’t say.” Ronin’s dry tone made Cora wish she stood closer so she could punch him.
Blood drained from her face. She grew light-headed and her stomach lurched.
Vaguely aware Ronin started talking again, his deep voice vibrating along her skin, the sounds around her faded again. Her heartbeat took over the surrounding sounds until she heard nothing else.
You’re mine, the Sea Beast’s voice, though faint, was unmistakable.
Why could she hear him? Even now? Even on land?
“Cora?” Ronin’s heavy hand clamped on her shoulder and ripped her from her thoughts. “Are you okay?”
“I killed a man,” she said. “I’ve killed two men.”
Ronin’s face contorted. His brows drew in and his gaze flashed as if they contained their own lightning. He glanced down at the dagger she still clutched in her hand. She needed to clean it better, blood still crusted the base of the blade and hilt.
Ronin tightened his grip on her shoulder. “Where?”
“One was yesterday—a scout from the meeting place. The other…” She jerked her chin toward the path behind her. “Do you think there are more?”
He shook his head. “Hunters usually travel in packs of four for big game hunts.”
She nodded, his words confirming her earlier thoughts.
“We should still move,” she said. “We don’t know if another group saw us.” Her lip started to tremble, and her skin grew cold. Had the temperature dropped? Why was she shaking?
Ronin studied her face and pulled her forward. She stumbled into his ar
ms.
Oomph. “What are you doing?” She mumbled into his chest. She shouldn’t find this soothing. This was so wrong.
“Shhhh.” He closed his arms around her. “I’m trying to comfort you.”
She stood rigid. “I’m not some weak fainting flower—”
“I know. I know.” He cut her off. “You’re a total badass. Very independent.”
She pressed her lips together and shifted her weight in case she needed to knee him in the junk.
“You’re also in shock,” he said. “Let me hold you for a minute.”
His actions and words might’ve been for her benefit, but for every second he held her, tension eased from his muscles. Did it really matter what his motives were? He was right. She was in shock and the only thing keeping the cold away was the heat emanating from Ronin. Maybe this once, just for a little bit, she’d relax.
Cora sank into Ronin’s embrace and let his warmth chase away the cold.
16
“Silence isn’t empty, it’s full on answers.”
Unknown
Ronin tightened his hold on Cora as she sagged into him. For the first time during this entire ill-fated trip, he wished he didn’t have his armour on. He wished he could feel the warmth of her body pressed against his. He’d have to be content with this. And he was. She was here and she was safe.
Something odd stirred in his chest, not entirely uncomfortable, but not exactly pleasant.
He ignored it and rested his chin on the top of Cora’s head. Her hair had tangled and knotted, resembling a hastily constructed bird nest more than the black silken hair he always associated with her. She’d looked so fierce stomping out of the forest, clutching the dagger, flying leathers splattered with blood, injured wings drooping behind her. The scowl and gaze flashing with worry and anger made her striking. Beautiful.
He wanted to gather her in his arms the moment he saw her, yet she wouldn’t have welcomed him then. Even now, he held her on borrowed time. He’d enjoy it while he could. He’d let the comfort of her body pressed against his armour work the tension away from his muscles and ease the palpable fear that had wracked his body when he realized he’d only killed three hunters, not four.
Despite what Cora believed, he wasn’t a turkey. He could count to four and that meant another hunter must be out in the woods where Cora searched for a splint. He’d cut down his attackers with quick, brutal efficiency, hoping to make it to her in time. But he hadn’t been fast enough. She’d been in danger and he hadn’t been there to protect her.
Turned out, she hadn’t needed him. Like the trouper she was, she proved she could take care of herself.
Cora sighed against his chest and her wings lowered.
God, if she ever realized the effect she had on him, he was doomed. Hell, he hadn’t realized anything until he saw her spiraling out of control with a javelin sized arrow sticking out of her wing. He didn’t think it through, he reacted.
When she told him to let her go, his heart ached. If he’d followed Father’s teachings, he would’ve released her and let her fall to her death. A king should never risk his life for a servant of the court.
Total bullshit.
If Ronin wouldn’t risk his life for the people, how could he ask them to risk theirs for him? He never would’ve come to this godforsaken place if he’d believed in Father’s ideology.
And Cora was never just a servant.
He’d convinced himself over the years that he kept tabs on her whereabouts out of curiosity at best and mistrust at worst. Her father had betrayed his family. He couldn’t let that go. He couldn’t stop wondering how much Cora knew. She’d been a teenager at the time, so he could forgive her complacency, but could he ever trust her?
Apparently, his heart had already answered that question. But his heart didn’t get the ultimate say, his brain did. This moment wouldn’t change anything. Cora hated him and despite what he might feel for her, he was the heir of the Eyrie and had responsibilities. He couldn’t afford to trust the daughter of a traitor, much less give his heart to her. If he were a wise man, he’d let her keep her distance. He’d let her continue to push him away. He wouldn’t pursue this painful ache in his chest.
Ronin might not be stupid, but he never claimed to be wise.
Cora took a deep breath and pushed away from him. He instinctively tightened his grip for a quick second, not wanting to let her go, but in the end, he let his arms fall to his side.
Cora stepped back. “What now?”
“Splint my wing and find a place to hide.” He looked at the sky to give her a moment to collect herself.
Hell, Ronin needed some time, too. He itched to reach out and pull her back into his arms. That was all sorts of wrong.
“Any suggestions?” he asked instead.
Cora turned to consider the forest which made little sense. She’d find no answers there.
“There are three access points to Iom that have a manageable flight path back to the Eyrie. The channel crossing is the closest, but after your abductor’s botched kidnapping attempt, they’ll be watching for us there and we’re injured. The Cap also appears to have gained additional archers over the last few runs. We have to assume capturing you will be too good an opportunity for them to ignore and there will be men waiting for us there. The Waystation Access Point is the second closest, but it’s also the most heavily guarded in both directions and as it’s the easier flight path, there will be tons of regular traffic.”
Ronin’s mind ran ahead of her thoughts once he realized where her reasoning took her.
“No, Cora. We don’t have to go there.”
She shook her head. “Is there any other option?”
The third access point, nestled away from humans behind a wall of mountains and perilous cliffs, housed Hadren’s Keep, the outpost where Cora’s mother had been murdered and Cora narrowly escaped with her life. How she survived remained a mystery, but Father had been the one to send them there in the first place.
“It’s the farthest access point from us,” he said. “It will take weeks for us to walk there instead of flying and that’s not factoring in injuries and off-path travel to avoid humans.”
Officially named the Outpost Access Point, the Oap was roughly a four to five-day flight from where they currently stood and if they didn’t have any other choice, he’d gladly avoid the keep nestled there.
She stepped forward again, invading his space and angling her face up to him in challenge. “Is it too scary for you?”
“Minx. You know it’s not.”
Her eyes widened. “You can stay here. We’ll find a cave and I’ll throw you some food and cover you with leaves.”
He growled.
“Look at us.” She threw her hands up. “It will take weeks for us to heal and this way we’ll be on the move and less likely to be caught flat-footed. It’s the last place they’ll expect us to go.”
“They will still send a few men to the Oap. I would in their shoes.”
Her gaze clouded with a thunderstorm of emotions. “Of course, they will.” She licked her lips and looked away.
“We should’ve headed north after you freed me.” He grumbled.
“Well, we didn’t,” she snapped. “I had no way of knowing how many men were involved. No idea whether they had already sent men to the Cap in case you brought backup. There were already men on the cliffs trying to shoot us down when we arrived. You didn’t look capable of flying across the channel straight away. And resting where we would’ve been surrounded by humans intent on gutting us didn’t seem like a good idea.”
She was gorgeous when she was angry. He folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to finish.
“I made a decision under duress and I stand by it,” she growled. “We can’t reverse time, so we may as well accept that we went south and got shot down, and deal with the situation we now find ourselves in.”
“Are you done?”
Her face turned red and she visibly shook
.
“Thank you for saving my life. You’re right. My wing was cramping before you got shot with the arrow. Attempting the channel crossing would’ve been suicide and they likely would’ve captured us had we stayed to rest.”
She jerked her chin in a tight nod. If he reached out now, she’d probably bite his hand off. Feral beast.
“What route should we take?” His mouth twitched. He knew her answer before she whispered it.
“The coast.”
17
"Sleeping next to a woman presents a greater radioactive risk than camping beside a nuclear power station."
Pile Botha
Cora nearly ran into Ronin’s wings when he stopped abruptly on the deer trail.
His shoulders rose with a deep breath and he peered up at the darkening sky. “We need to make camp.”
Cora shivered and glanced around. “Here?”
After finding a suitable branch to use as a splint, they’d bound his injured wing and started off toward the coast. They hadn’t gone far when Cora suggested a detour.
They were still in the northern forest, somewhere to the south of Ronin’s ill-fated meeting.
“We won’t make your fishing village even if we march all night,” he grumbled.
“It’s not my fishing village.” Cora kicked a pinecone. The sudden motion sent a streak of pain down her wing. Ow.
“We’re both injured. I’m not sure about you, but the adrenaline has worn off and all I do is hurt. Besides, we need to wait for nightfall to signal your contact anyway. I’d rather time it so we aren’t camping beside a village full of sapavian haters, either right before or after we meet with Ava, who may or may not try to kill us or send her bloodthirsty townsmen after us.”
“Or women.”
The weakening light made it hard to read his expression, but if she had to bet money, she’d place it on a sneer or an eye roll.
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