“What would you like to know?”
She decided to start small, hopeful not to spook him. “How long have you and Destonne known each other?”
“I met him after Thellonius drove this spike into my neck. So since I was a child. Or a pup, I should say.”
Emmery’s shoulders tensed with uncertainty. Had that been a joke? Should she have laughed? Brennen’s gaze flicked to her and the humorous glimmer in his eyes swept a relieved breath from her lungs. “And what would you callthisform?”
“We’re referred to as Lykons,” Brennen kept his gaze fixed on the tree ahead. “Legends say we’re descendants of Hollowhounds.”
Emmery eyed him incredulously. It was hard to believe Brennen could be related to such beasts. She couldn’t see one of those terrifying hounds cracking a joke, and his nature was far too gentle. Too gentle to be associated with Destonne too. “How long have you two worked together?”
“Working is a loose term,”Brennen continued.“Dez didn’t take over the kingdom until just before the war.”
“And what were you before?”
“I was a pet.”
The unemotional delivery of the statement took her aback, but also stoked a furious roaring inside her. A pet? Like a lap dog? Brennen may not look like a man, but he certainly was one, and for him to be treated as anything else wasdisgusting. “He—Destonne kept you as a pet? You, wait, you’re joking right?”
“Afraid not. But it’s not what you think.”
Emmery studied his profile: the proud length of his snout, his glossy black fur, and the curling horns of a ram. He was a beautiful creature, wild and strong, with a magnetism similar to Destonne’s, though the King’s fed off fear while Brennen spoke of bravery and loyalty.
“Thellonius took me when he raided Asaella. I was a … trophy, of sorts. Dez kept me safe. Saved my life.”
“By treating you as apet?”
Brennen nodded, though he squirmed almost in discomfort. He seemed to fall into a memory, lost within the quicksand-hold of its depths. “There were nights Thellonius left me out in the snow without food or a place to sleep. Dez would sneak me into his bed and feed me scraps.”
Emmery blanched and her words burned the back of her throat. “He should have done more. There’s no excuse for that.”
“It’s complicated. I don’t want to divulge too much of Dez’s past. I’ll let him share that with you, if he chooses.”Brennen’s sigh clouded the chilly air. “Dez is the most important person to me.”At Emmery’s doubtful look he added, “I’m not a prisoner, if that’s what you think. I bear no shackles.”
“So you’re here by choice?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does.” Emmery stepped closer as they strolled side by side. His fur brushed her dark trousers. “The choices we make in life are everything. They’re one of the only things free from Fate’s overbearing hand.” She felt that more than ever with this whole prophecy.
The tree’s pulse thrummed in time with hers as they neared the unmatched power. It was strange to think of this tree as the final resting place for Deimos and Kahlia’s daughter, Asaella, and her human lover. What a tragic tale Briar had told her months ago, about the daughters’ choices to be buried with their lovers, forever entwined within the trunks.
Emmery’s fingertips skimmed the rough bark as she sank to her knees. The magic reached back and threaded its ethereal fingers through her own. Her eyes fell shut as Asaella, blessed with fire and burdened by beasts, hummed the melody in her bones.
Brennen cocked his head at Emmery, a studious uptilt to his jowls. She prayed a small series of well wishes for her family, Aera’s good health, and for Fionn’s speedy recovery. Emmeryadded a snip for Vesper in the hopes he healed in his own way. Her lips moved with unspoken words, spilling from her heart like wine from a finely aged barrel.
A long silence bled into the night before Brennen spoke, his words echoing in her mind in that unnatural way. “Why do you come here, princess?”
“It makes me … feel,” Emmery said, her eyes still shut. “Like I’m part of this broken land. The magic feeds into me somehow, but it’s hard to explain.”
Brennen blinked slowly at the tree as if seeing it in a new light, or perhaps for the first time. “The trees have always made me uneasy.”
Cracking an eyelid, she peeped up at him. “Uneasy?”
“They’re both life and death. A cradle and a coffin.”He stepped cautiously toward the tree and plunked himself down beside her.
“The beginning and end often meet. It's the circle of all things.” The tree root pulsed against Emmery’s hand almost in agreement. “Do you worship the gods?”
“I used to. Now I’m not sure what to place my faith in.”