I finally found my voice. “Her spell? What are you talking about? And how will taming me protect our people? It’s not even possible.”
His temple throbbed, and for the first time in years, I saw a glimpse of the man I used to know. “Breaking the bond with my beast shouldn’t have been possible. And yet you did it.”
My gut churned. “What danger?”
He tilted his head to the ceiling. “We’re outnumbered. And after what happened in the First War, with so many beasts slaughtered, they’re unwilling to fight. But if I can force them to act, take control of their beasts and protect Hireath, we’ll survive. The spell she’s relying on, it’s too much of a long shot. Bone of a tainted Charmer, blood of an undead prince…these things don’t exist.”
“Wynn.” I scooted closer to him and prayed I could break through to the man who’d once claimed to love me. “Tell me what happened. What’s going on?”
“I tried. I really did. If I could’ve tamed a human, we would’ve been saved…” When he brought his gaze back to my face, I didn’t recognize him at all. Standing, he brushed his hands along his trousers. “But I couldn’t, so here we are.”
My mind lurched, regurgitating images of the injured man stapled to the wall in Wynn’s basement. Dead and soulless eyes. Fluttering, erratic heartbeat. He had moved his chapped lips as if to speak, but nothing more than a wheeze left his lungs.
Was that my fate? First Cruor, and now this?
A cold shell of the man I used to know spoke over his shoulder as he left. “I have Council meetings to attend today. Tomorrow, we work.”
Twenty-seven
Noc
Two agonizing, never-ending days. That’s how long it took us to make it back to Cruor. Every minute that crawled by was a cut against my skin. A reminder of what I’d done. I traveled without stopping, dragging my brothers day and night toward our home. Toward the only glimmer of hope I had at getting Leena back. We didn’t sleep. We didn’t eat. No one complained. No one said a word. They didn’t have to—I felt every ounce of their sorrow, witnessed anger brimming in their eyes, heard every unspoken truth waiting on their tongues.
Leena was family. And that family was gone.
We burst through the double doors of Cruor just as the moon ascended to the heavens. Emelia had spotted our return from her post, and before joining us, she’d sent a series of shadows ahead to spread the word—Noc was home.
When I stormed into the foyer, every assassin was already waiting. Eyes diligently trained on me, they stood without moving. Only Darrien stepped forward, his weary gaze darting from tendril to tendril. My shadows hadn’t receded once. We’d already wasted so much time on travel. We needed a plan. I needed to get to Leena before it was too late.
“We have a job.” Anger simmered heavily in my chest, but I forced my voice to remain steady. Even. Assassins sidled in closer with questions brewing in their eyes. “We don’t know the exact location of Hireath, only that it’s west through the Kitska Forest. If we leave now, we should be able to—”
“Wait a minute… Hireath?” The muscles running along Darrien’s neck stiffened. “The Charmers’ den that has never been infiltrated? Who gave us such a dangerous job?”
“I did.”
Throughout the foyer, mouths fell open and small gasps sounded above the hearth’s crackling fire. Darrien blinked several times before squeezing his eyes shut. “Why?”
Grinding my teeth, I fought to keep control over my building emotions. I needed immediate action from my brethren, not a million questions. The longer this took, the more danger Leena was in.
Kost laid a gloved hand on my shoulder and stared down Darrien. “One of our own was taken. If we don’t act quickly, she will likely die.”
Die. Leena’s stricken expression surfaced in my mind. Anger and agony fought to consume me, but if I was going to rescue her from an impenetrable fortress, I needed to keep my wits. To maintain control.
“Who was taken?” Darrien fingered the leather strap across his chest holding the bow on his back in place. Assassins rustled against the railing, each one eager to know who was missing. Who I was willing to go to war for.
I reached for the ring on my finger and spun it the way she would have. “Leena.”
Voices competed against one another, complaints lost in the cacophony of shouts.