by Sadie Moss
If only they believed the same.
4
If I’m hoping Callum might expand on his vague response, I’m glad I didn’t hold my breath. The subject drops, and none of the men seem eager to pick it back up.
A moment later, we pass through the liquid frost of the portal’s veil. As we step inside, the world shifts. I lose all sense of my limbs and my body, tumbling through the intense pressure that lies beyond the door between the mortal realm and the afterworld.
I’m cradled again between Callum and Echo, as I was the first time we traveled the portal.
I thought maybe they would agree to let me step through the portal alone this time after seeing me travel the weave with proficiency, but when I suggested that, my words were met with silence and Callum’s stern grip on my hand. So I’m still harboring that bit of ire as I cling to his back in the chaos.
Finally, my feet alight on solid ground, a wave of cool air heralding our exit from the portal. I’m fascinated by what powers it—the weave, clearly, but what else is the portal made of? Starlight? Energy? What is that coldness we have to breach to get in and out? Is it some kind of ghostly veil?
My questions could go on and on. The afterworld is such an enigma to me. I’d love to categorize it all and shine light into the most remote corners to find answers.
Instead, I have to follow my messengers like a good little soul and be happy that they tell me anything at all.
The world is much brighter on this side of the veil. It’s daytime here, proving once again how disconnected the two planes of existence are. We’re back in the Unclaimed Expanse, with a too-bright sun shining down on us from a sky nearly as yellow as the dirt.
I recognize the dead vista of skeletal tree trunks, briars, and dry, dusty ground around us—not that I know this particular stretch of landscape specifically, since the terrain in the Unclaimed Expanse shifts at odd intervals, going from rocky to forested to desert-like and back. The shift from night in the mortal realm to this brutal light causes my head to ache, and I fall into step with Echo, letting my blonde hair fall in a curtain around my face to act as a barrier from the sun.
“Would make it easier if we could travel the weave out of the Expanse, wouldn’t it?” Echo says gently.
I glance at him from behind my veil of hair. Sweat beads like diamonds along his hairline, and the harsh light exaggerates his crooked nose and strong features. “Yes, it would be easier.”
Somehow, he looks more beautiful on this side of death. I hadn’t noticed the difference when we were at my village, but seeing the men now back in their element, I can tell there’s something about this world that makes them even more breathtaking.
Callum, Echo, and Paris each seem lost in their own thoughts, so we spend most of the day walking in silence broken only by intermittent instructions from Callum. I’m hesitant to try to make small talk with the big warrior in as dark a mood as he appears to be, and in truth, I’m not very interested in talking right now either.
Having left my family behind again, I’m beginning to feel like every move I make is nothing but a failure on my part. I failed to protect my village with my sacrifice. And even though I was able to return to save my brother’s life as well as chase away the raiders who would have destroyed my people, now I’m just walking away from them all over again.
I know logically that this time, I had no choice in the matter, but it doesn’t ease the sting or the ache in my heart.
As the purple-tinged sun reaches the horizon, casting the Unclaimed Expanse in gloomy shadows, Callum declares we’re to make camp for the night.
“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He glares at me, shoving a hand through his thick hair. “Because I said so.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Perhaps that’s not good enough for me?”
Paris laughs and drops his pack on the ground, which is now covered by lush undergrowth. “It’s not worth trying to push through, little soul.”
“And it’s not worth trying to push Callum either,” Echo says under his breath, giving me a small smile that just the two of us share.
My heart expands a little in my chest at the way his head dips toward mine as he speaks, and I smile back.
“But it’s just so easy,” I quip, lowering my own pack to the ground beside Paris’s.
“There’s a lake nearby.” Stepping away from me, Echo leaps onto a large boulder that rises from the ground, using the higher vantage point to survey our surroundings. “I can see the sun glinting off the water.”
After the men stoke a massive fire to ward off the coming chill of night, we eat a dinner of salted meat and dry biscuits. It’s hardly the meal of champions, but it’s all that remains of the stores we took with us to the mortal realm. After he finishes, Callum wipes the crumbs from his hands and then rises and disappears into the darkness.
“Where’s he going?” I ask, staring after his form as the forest swallows him up.
Echo shrugs, taking a swig from his canteen before he chuckles lightly. “Who knows? Callum does what Callum does.”
“Well, then I’m going to take a walk too,” I say, getting to my feet. “If Sage is allowed to do what Sage does?”
Paris snorts from where he lies flat on his back on the ground, cocking his head as he gazes up at me. “The snark of this one! It never ceases to amuse me.”
“Stay close to camp,” Echo tells me, both of us ignoring Paris. “It’s safest. There are dangerous beasts in the Unclaimed Expanse, as you now know.”
With a nod, I head off. I enter the trees after Callum, though I veer in what I think is the opposite direction with a mind to avoid him as best I can. Being close to him is painful sometimes, my heart and soul worn ragged by the push and pull between us.
I remain close enough to our camp to see the glow of our fire through the trees, but I put a little space between me and the men. Breathing space to think, to gather my thoughts, to just exist solely as myself for a short time.
I already miss Nolan and my mother terribly. Every step I took today through the Unclaimed Expanse felt like one more step of permanence on a road that will never lead back to them.
Their lives are still going to be a struggle. Zelus still neglects and abuses his people, both in my village and throughout the rest of his realm, so nothing will change for my family. I won’t be there to help, to bring firewood and food home every day, to pick up the slack on mother’s work when she’s too exhausted. Even knowing that Nolan is now healthy and strong, I feel certain my absence is going to make things harder for them both.
The sun has lowered over the edge of the world, but the moon has risen. Tendrils of its light caress the forest through the shadows. I see that light glinting off something large up ahead.
It must be the lake Echo spotted earlier.
Changing course, I strike out in that direction, tossing a glance over my shoulder as I go to make sure the fire is still within sight behind me.
I was right. That glint turns out to be the lake that Echo mentioned. It stretches like a glittering jewel, cradled on every side by trees, their tops reflected as wavering shadows in the water.
And I’m not alone here either.
Callum stands in the shallows of the broad lake, his frame silhouetted against the moonlight as he stares out over placid water. Little waves lap at his ankles, and as my gaze travels up his bare legs, I realize with a start that he’s completely naked.
I duck behind a large tree, my heart hammering as if it’s trying to escape my chest.
The last time I saw this man naked, he stood before his magical mirror with an image of me called up on the glass as he pleasured himself. The tableau was beyond erotic, beyond anything I’d ever seen before in my life, leaving me hot and aroused.
Much has changed between us since then. But my craving for him, the insatiable need to be closer to him, hasn’t. If anything, it’s intensified.
I peek around the edge of the tree trunk and slowly
drink in the sight of Callum’s bare back. His broad, muscular shoulders taper into a trim waist and hips, with a smooth, firm ass that makes the breath hitch in my throat. There’s nothing erotic about the scene as he wades deeper into the lake to splash water over himself—it’s just a man cleaning the dust and grime off his body—but I can’t help the tightening low in my belly. I grip the tree, hardly daring to breathe.
When he’s waist-deep, Callum turns slightly, facing toward shore. Water cascades down his chest, and I glimpse the front of his body. Heat rushes over me. My fingers dig into the tree’s bark as I grow lightheaded, thinking of his kiss back in the cabin, of his hard muscles pressed into mine.
Then Callum’s expression shifts. For a wild, panicked moment, I think he’s seen me. But instead of looking angry, he grins, one big hand hitting the water and sending a wide arc of liquid onto the beach.
It hits Echo square in the chest.
My eyes flare wide in surprise. Nish. I didn’t even notice him approach the shoreline.
He must not have passed too close by me or I would’ve seen him—or he would’ve seen me—but it’s still a mark of how distracted I was by the sight of Callum that my normally alert senses failed me.
Echo curses, and Callum says something in return that makes them both laugh. Suddenly, the hard warrior’s face is transformed, a beautiful smile chasing away the shadows he clings to with such rigor. On the beach, Echo tosses off his boots and discards his clothes without hesitation, then slips into the water to bathe.
Heat flares inside me as the two men stand side by side, washing off in the moonlight. The cool light reflects off their perfect forms, and the lake water turns to shimmering tendrils on their skin.
I know I shouldn’t stand here and gape at them, but I can’t stop. I ache to join them, to touch them, to feel nothing but water slide between their bare skin and mine.
Too late, I realize that if two of the messengers are here at the lake, the third is bound to be nearby.
And yet again, my senses have failed me.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind, trapping me against the tree. For a wild moment, I have the impulse to fight, but then a familiar masculine scent wafts around me.
There’s the third messenger.
I tense, entirely too aware that Paris is pressed against the length of my body, that I’m pinned between him and the tree. His hands span my waist, palms pressing into my rib cage below my breasts. The position is entirely too reminiscent of our kiss back at the cabin, and my breath hitches a little as arousal and embarrassment spike in my veins.
His lips brush my ear, giving me a playful nip before he says, “And what are you doing hiding behind a tree like a little wood nymph, watching my brothers bathe?”
I don’t know how to answer him. My knees are shaky, and I’ve lost the ability to form thoughts or sentences. I’m still clutching the tree, and Callum and Echo are still visible in the moonlight before me. They’ve stopped splashing and are standing in the gently shifting water, talking in low, serious voices as if they aren’t entirely naked.
But they are, and I’ve never wanted anything so badly in all my afterlife.
“Sage.” Paris’s whisper fans across the skin of my neck, and he reaches up, moving my hair away to expose my skin. His fingertips trail down the curve where my shoulder meets my neck before drifting over my collarbone. “What do you want with them? What do you feel?”
I close my eyes and swallow. So many emotions and desires are swirling inside me, and his hand on my collarbone has made me lightheaded. Such an innocent part of my anatomy, but there’s nothing innocent about his touch—or my body’s response to it.
I finally find my voice. My father used to say if you didn’t want to answer a question, reply with a question of your own, and I gratefully follow his remembered advice.
“Answer me this,” I say on a rough whisper. “Why have you and your brothers helped me?”
Paris’s hand stills on my chest. The whole of his palm, even as elegant as his fingers are, is nearly bigger than the patch of skin revealed above the neckline of my dress.
“I know we’re connected,” I rush on, my voice low, “I can feel it all the time. I’m sure you can too. But that doesn’t mean anything. You could still mistreat me. You could chain me to you like a slave, force me to follow you wherever you go and do your bidding. Why have you followed me instead? Why have you gone so far out of your way to help me?”
The bark is rough beneath my fingertips, but I’m glad I’m holding on to it when he releases me. I hadn’t realized how weak my knees had become under his touch. I fall against the tree trunk and look back at him over my shoulder.
He doesn’t answer me. My avoidance tactic worked—and it didn’t.
Instead of saying anything at all, he strides away from me, dropping his interrogation but leaving me without any answers of my own either.
I suppose I deserve that.
As he steps out of his clothes on the beach, he keeps a steady gaze locked on to me, as if he can see me in the shadows. Every discarded layer of fabric reveals a third perfect body that my fingers itch to caress, and the wicked smile on his face tells me he knows exactly what’s going through my mind.
Paris splashes into the lake, greeting his brothers with a loud, “Isn’t it a grand night to be naked?” that I know is meant just for me.
I drink in one glimpse of the three of them standing together in the water, then I whirl on my heel and slip back into the woods, my emotions churning inside me.
5
I sleep fitfully on the cold ground with my satchel as a pillow and only the night sky for a blanket, so that when I wake in the morning, all of my joints ache from the chill. I probably would have been more comfortable if I slept beside Echo as he offered, but I said no so abruptly that Paris laughed.
Because he knew why I couldn’t sleep beside Echo. Or any of them, even. Whether they wore clothes to sleep or not, I’d spend the entire night thinking of them naked in the moonlight.
So instead, I pass the hours chilled and aching from the hard ground beneath my bones. I hardly sleep longer than a few moments at a time, awakening often from restless dreams of shadowy horses and riders coming to steal me away from the messengers.
In the light of day, I’m exhausted, moving slower than usual, and not any less embarrassed by my behavior last night. I think even if Paris hadn’t found me hiding behind the tree, I’d still feel ashamed of the way I ogled the men as they did something as normal and natural as bathing.
Before coming to live with them, I never found myself in any situation where I indicated a penchant for voyeurism. I once saw several of the old men in my village doing a strange, naked dance they claimed was meant to call the rain for our crops, but I ran inwardly screaming from that situation, no ogling needed.
But these men are a different breed entirely. Everything about them turns me to molten flame. Sometimes, I’m not sure if it’s only because they hold pieces of my soul, or if it’s because they’re so beautiful they leave me breathless. Or because, whether they admit it or not, they are good men.
After finally leaving the wild terrain of the Unclaimed Expanse, we continue our journey on the wide dirt road I recognize as the byway that leads to Ironholde.
If I thought my companions were being silent and morose yesterday during the first half of our trip, they’re even more so this morning. The farther we walk—the closer we get to the city—the more tension hangs in the air.
I wish they would talk to me and tell me why they’ve gone so silent, but they’re hardly even talking to each other anymore. Of course, I know the bare facts: they’re to meet with Kaius, and the gods have supposedly gone to war over our interference in Zelus’s lands.
But what does that mean? The men said they’ve fought in many wars for Kaius over the years. Will this one be worse somehow?
The forest begins to change, the bare, dead trees becoming lush and thick with leaves, and the scrag
gly underbrush spreading through them turning to healthy vegetation. I hear the cheerful flute of birdsong and catch sight of foliage rustling as sparrows flit playfully through the woods around us. We’ve left the Unclaimed Expanse behind and have entered the realm of Ironholde.
When the forest ends, we walk into a sunny expanse of rolling hills that leads all the way to the formidable city hovering up ahead. It’s the first time I’ve seen the city from this direction—and standing upright, rather than thrown over Echo’s shoulder as a prisoner.
Ironholde is even more magnificent than I thought from my brief sojourns inside its walls. The palace is a glistening jewel looming above the jagged buildings, with a luminous white facade and a dozen towers topped by shiny copper roofs. Flags dance on the breeze from every peak, announcing Kaius’s colors and mark. The castle stands out in stark contrast to the city below, where the buildings are variations of brown and gray stone, smoke drifting in thin streams from sharp chimneys. Ironholde is like an island fortress, vast and monstrous as it rises from a sea of tall, waving grasses.
We reach the city gates within minutes and pass inside to the bustle of a morning market. This market is as constant as the sunshine here, from what I’ve observed, more of a heartbeat for the city than any other aspect of life under Kaius’s reign. But today, we don’t stop to shop the wares or to pick up a bag of fresh fruit and vegetables for dinner. We pass by the rickety booths and barking vendors toward the heart of the city, where we pause at the road that would lead us home.
Callum’s gaze turns in the opposite direction of the messengers’ house, however. He stares down the lane to where the castle’s drawbridge is visible in the distance.
“No use putting off the inevitable,” Echo murmurs.
“We’ve delayed long enough,” Callum agrees roughly.
“We aren’t going home first?”
I look between them, too aware of my aching feet and my dusty dress. I’m longing for a bath in my lovely tub, a soft, clean dress, and the luxurious comfort of my bed.