I nod, because the feeling is familiar. Then I wrap an arm around her, pulling her in softly, desiring so much more. And ignoring every one of those desires.
“It’s time,” Pax says, guiding her onto the front of his saddle, then mounting up behind her.
We watch her leave, Pax’s expression set in stone, fear and regret warring for dominance. His AlphaSeed pushes it all aside for what he knows is right. What he thinks is right.
And what is bound to go wrong.
Because the Darkness that sat in the pit of my stomach since the moment Thane returned has stopped its hunt and slipped from existence, but the master moving all of his puppets into place is still wearing the crown – and killing him is not going to come without a cost.
By nightfall the next day I have relocated the potions to a safe, hidden, almost-impossible-to-find location, and we’ve made good time towards the Falcon estates. None of us have spoken a word or stopped for more than the toilet. They would have hidden the potions, but by the moon mother herself Chaos has a way of making sure the hidden things stay hidden – if that is what will keep me alive. Even a person looking right into that tree trunk won’t see the boxes of vials unless it is in some way going to do us a favor.
My arms still ache from holding her – not that the muscles are damaged or weak nor could ever be when it comes to her. But want, need, those are two things my Seed is not immune to. And Vexy, gray eyes, dirty blonde hair, smile like Sirius the dog star himself, all mischief, she is something else altogether. A constellation I’ve never encountered before.
So I need her.
And now I’m riding away from her.
I sigh, long since giving in to the fact that this is what we must do, and ride on with my brothers. Darkness on the right and Allure on the left.
With the sun setting and the blessed stars beginning to watch over us, Roarke finally snaps his SeedLore book closed. The guy has been reading almost all day.
“What?” Killian grunts.
“GlassSeeds just don’t exist. Never have. But until very recently I had no idea that Silvari glass has a natural state.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, brother.”
Comforting fingers of mist are stretching from the damp earth by the time the first Falcon fence comes into view.
Tanilya Defnasenda and his family breed things. All kinds of things. Falcons being only one of them, horses another, and if you know the family well enough to be privy to some of their secrets, dragons and worse are also on that list.
A farmhand spots us, rushing ahead to raise the alarm, and moments later the blue man himself, along with several servants suspiciously armed, rides straight for us. Roarke moves ahead, meeting Tan first, and the two of them stop with their horses side by side and their knees almost touching.
The other men circle us with hands on hilts and gazes making measured calculations of their chances and our weaknesses. Perceived weaknesses.
Killian smiles, which makes them add more space to their safe distance radius. They have no idea how well we understand distances, every single pace. If just one of them moves to draw their weapon, Killian will go left, me right, and in less than ten paces, we would eliminate them all.
My horse tap dances underneath me, turning in two sharp circles as I smile, which probably makes me look evil because I’m quite proud of my new math skills. But, before I can decide if I’ll kick the man with the beard or the clean shaven one first, Tan raises an arm, and Roarke meets it – hands clasp, shoulders are patted, and the two of them chuckle at their defensiveness.
I sag in my saddle, part relieved, part disappointed, as the blue man starts talking. “Welcome, guests. Food, I imagine? A bed for the night?”
“We’re not staying,” Killian barks.
We can’t afford to. While we’ve covered half a night toward the White Castle, there isn’t enough Allure in the world to speed us the rest of the way. We need a rest – yes. We need an ally at the Spring – completely agree. But sleep is for the dead… in a coffin. Which gets me thinking how comfortable a coffin is, to tell you the truth. I’ve ridden half the kingdom in a coffin before. They’re lined and padded, dark and quiet.
I catch myself looking around just to see if one is available; you never know what Chaos might deliver.
Ah, no. No coffin.
Fences. Trees. Pasture, horses. One great big barn, an even bigger stable, and the estate building itself in all its two story stone glory. Plus a timber building that looks like a half buried round grain silo but is actually a dragon arena built under the ground, given light and air through that one giveaway structure.
“We’re here to ask for your assistance, old friend,” Roarke explains, dragging my wandering attention back to our company and our mission.
“Whatever it is, you have it,” Tan responds. He’s good to his word – a Babisqu is always good to their word, but he has no idea what he’s getting himself into. “Inside, I have a place where we won’t be overheard, and an EquineSeed who can tend your injured mount.”
“And that food?” I call.
There are a few chuckles around us before Tan says, “Order the kitchens to have three meals delivered to the den.”
The guy with the beard nods, urges his mount into a canter, and rides off, but Tan hesitated on the word three and spins in his saddle to do a head count.
“I’d heard rumors there would be five,” he says, leaving the sentence hanging there. He doesn’t add to it, and not one of us has the lack of sense to elaborate. Instead, he waves in a sharp ‘follow me’ signal.
With
