Page 101 of Dark Fate

"What, you prefer an open field for your tan?" I shoot back sarcastically.

He grins wickedly. "Babe, I'm already golden," he purrs, leaning over the map to point to a narrow strip of land. "Right through here. Fool's Pass. Only an idiot would take that route."

"Or someone with nothing to lose," I quip.

Rhylandchuckles, his hand finding the small of my back. "I think we’ll keep our wits about us and take theSpectre ValesaroundFrost Weaver Hallows."

Faderyntraces a different route. "The path throughSilvergladeValley is more direct," he suggests. "Though not without its own risks."

Axilyanods thoughtfully. "The Lynx Eyes coven watches overSilverglade. They are not fond of trespassers."

"Witches? Here?" I blurt out, my eyes widening with shock and curiosity.

Erik’s gaze doesn’t waver from the map. "Witchesare everywhere, Little Huntress. We can handle a fewwitches."

Luciansnorts, his eyebrows raised in a look of mock horror. "Speak for yourself, Sir Broods-a-Lot," he quips. "I'd rather not have my handsome face cursed off by some disgruntled hag with a wart collection."

"You’re assuming they’d find anything worth cursing," I tease, lips twitching.

He winks at me. "You wound me, Princess. And here I thought you appreciated my rugged good looks and charming wit."

Rhylandgrunts disapprovingly but can’t hide his smirk. His protective arm tightens around me slightly. "We'll take TheSpectre Vales—it avoids confrontations and keeps us out of sight."

"And here I was, looking forward to getting hexed," I say dryly.

"Your disappointment is palpable,"Faderynremarks with a soft smile. "We should prepare provisions and gear," he suggests.

I silently agree, excitement thrumming through my veins at the thought of action.

The king and queen exchange a look before turning back. "We cannot accompany you," Oberon announces solemnly.

"We understand,"Rhylandreplies with a respectful nod.

"Your Majesty," I ask, curiosity heavy in my voice. "Why entrust me with this map when others braving the Peaks didn’t get the honor?"

Oberon nods slowly. "Because I trust you, Lady Danica, will defy expectation and return with it," he states, his voice laced with confidence.

Queen Titania steps forward. "May your bonds remain strong and spirits undeterred."

Axilyastands gracefully. "We depart at dawn on horseback."

I grimace at the thought of more saddle hours. My horseback memories are more bruises than wind-blown freedom.

"Great," I grumble with dry humor. "More medieval pony trekking—my ass is filing a grievance as we speak."

Rhyland moves in close, breath warm against my ear. "I'll take care of that sweet ass, baby," he murmurs with a promise that sends shivers down my spine.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I try to compose myself. With a cough, I attempt to banish his risqué words, clearing my throat feebly to steer us back to innocence.

I suggest teleporting to save time, but Faderyn quickly dismisses that idea—it's too "dangerous" without pinpoint accuracy.

I nod reluctantly; I haven't mastered popping in and out anyway.

"No shit," Lucian chimes in. "We don't want to end up in some twisted Narnia."

"So through Spectre Vales, up Whispering Woods, left through Frost Weaver Hallows, and hit the Peaks, right?" I ask, tracing my finger along the faded parchment.

Rhyland leans over my shoulder, breath tickling my neck. "That sums it up, Angel—think you can handle some saddle days?"

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