“Board,” the crow man ordered.
Emmery’s entire body trembled, somehow numb and yet hyper aware of the cold air, the dampness of the ground beneath her, and the way her hands hovered over Destonne afraid to touch him.
“Help me get him up,” Brennen said in a miraculously calm tone. Especially with how his King lay collapsed in a bloody heap at their feet.
Though moving him was the worst thing they could have done with Destonne so injured, Emmery and Brennen struggled to get him into the boat. They had no choice. His clammy limbs were incredibly heavy, limp, and damp with a fucked-up medley of sweat and blood. But they got him on the boat with his body draped over Brennen’s back while Emmery carried his legs.
Once inside the vessel, Brennen lay at Emmery’s feet. And since the bench wasn’t long enough to stretch out Destonne’s body without folding him, they rested him along it and nestled his head in Emmery’s lap.
The crow man thrust the boat out onto the endless blood river, and as Emmery watched the shore disappear, she knew there was no turning back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
VESPER
Vesper stared up through the open ceiling, shrouded only by a tangle of vines. The colossal hole looked like a larger-than-life beast threw a bloody tantrum and punched through the cavern’s roof. But the withered sunlight that bled through burned his eyes. Apparently, he’d already become some underground creature in his short time in Rensburrow if that glimmer of light hurt.
He rubbed his raw wrist, still tingling from where Kyrith had tugged him along through this strange town and into this pocket of the cavern. And she certainly hadn't been gentle about it.
When he snuck a sideways glance at her, he caught her tapping her finger against her sword in perfect rhythm to that familiar tune.
He cleared his throat, and said, “So, uhm, you brought me here to stare up into a big ass hole in the ceiling? Because I thought you had to show me something. And now we’re just gazing at a bunch of rocks.”
She shot him a look harsh enough to shrivel his balls. “Are you always this obnoxious?”
“Are youalwaysthis friendly?”
His lips pulled into a smile as she rolled her eyes and returned to tapping her sword as if he didn’t stand in this cavern with her. Like she didn’t care at all if he was here or not. He couldn’t patch this situation with humour and get away with it. He had to actually prove himself.
“Don’t you want to ask me about my plan?” The drag to his words mirrored his hesitant stomach. “What I know about the prophecy? About my scars? About my strange magic and—”
Kyrith held up a single finger to silence him. “I stand firm on that two brain cells comment. Hang onto them. And be quiet for a godsdamn moment, won’t you? You’re giving me a headache.”
If she wanted to be difficult, so be it. There were three things she wouldn’t be privileged to, not just because of her attitude, but because he didn’t trust this wild woman, even if Zyphira had led him here. So, his title, his family name, and the Council’s impending visit would remain his secrets. The anonymity strangely lent him strength. Gave him a chance at a new beginning without his past tagging along like a leech. Or maybe more like an ugly drunken gremlin ready to spill his past shames.
Vesper toed a small puddle and smeared the water along the ground, needing to keep busy. He shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the slight tremble in them. It wasn’t that he wasnervous,per se. More so that if this interaction, whatever they waited for, didn’t go well, he was so bloody screwed. He clenched his teeth as an unexpected shiver raced down his spine and he—
Well, hefeltit first.
The stirring of the air, the thrum of magic, and the absolute shitstorm of wind comparable to a hurricane. His hair lifted, whipping against his wide eyes, as he turned to Kyrith. Her burgundy locks whirled around her head, hovered in the air, and she grinned like a woman possessed as the filtered sunlight disappeared, and the greenery parted.
Vesper swallowed the terror climbing his throat.
A black mass, or, shit, blackmasses, descended through the opening in the cavern’s roof.
His legs screamed to run, but his mind willed him to stay.
We’re wolves, Vesper, Izzy had said.And wolves don’t cower, nor do they hide.So, he straightened his spine and shielded himself from the wind. But nothing could have braced him for the beasts that dropped into the cavern and stole all the fucking air from his lungs.
He blinked. Blinked again. Still couldn’t bloody believe it. This was—
They were fuckingdragons.
Holy Hollowhound shit on a piss cake pie.
They were enormous, obsidian things, with scales that reflected the spectrum of the rainbow, a hue Vesper assumed Arborius may have once held before he was tortured, drained, and bled. Before he lingered on the threshold of the Hollow. Vesper gazed up at the dragons as his tunic wrestled on his frame and his trousers flapped in the breeze. And he hadn’t realized it, but at some point, he’d begun to clutch at hisShadowheart. His heart pounded against his palm and Kaida strained against his ribcage, each flap of her wings a plea for freedom. A lover’s call toward the wind.
Vesper willed his heart rate to calm, and Kaida with it, because he wasn't afraid anymore. He was elated. Stunned. Completely and totallyenraptured.