It had been my impression that I’d run into Nylian shortly after he’d been exiled from Wolfrest. His first stop was supposed to be checking out the elf kingdom’s top enemy—the royal family of Edros in Gushan. Along the way, he would pick up a couple of new companions as well as a warrior-lover or two. They were supposed to be added to his harem. After all that, he would travel back south to Riverhold and catch a boat over to the Galinaes royal capital of Ulmenor.
No. No. No.
This was all wrong.
Why had this all gone wrong?
I understood why he’d missed out on snatching up Mercy in Misty Pass, but how could my presence be screwing up the whole part of him in Edros? I’d already written all twenty-six of those freaking chapters. There was a lot of good stuff in there.
But now, with a snap of his elf fingers, it was all gone. What the fuck?
Did he not understand the important layers I’d worked in? The character development? The foreshadowing? Okay, so I wasn’t sure what I was foreshadowing, but it was fucking in there for later!
Now he was down three members of his harem: Mercy, Elsbeth, and…I don’t remember her name, but I’m sure she was important. Shannon! Shannon, the badass bartender who’d had enough of her father’s drinking and had decided to strike out on her own with Nylian.
Fuck, I liked Shannon. Mercy was too sweet—too much of a “Mary Sue” for me, but I’d really liked Shannon.
Plus, what about Keaton, the wily rogue with the heart of gold, who was supposed to become Nylian’s new bestie? Life on the road with Nylian was supposed to reform Keaton and help heal some of his cynicism while he saved Nylian’s life.
Well, apparently Keaton was on his fucking own now.
So were Mercy, Elsbeth, and Shannon.
I’d screwed this story to hell and back with my sudden appearance. That made it even more necessary for me to stay by Nylian’s side. He was missing almost all of his team, the people who rallied to support and protect him through the hard times. The people who made sure that he never lost hope when things were at their darkest.
That all rested on my shoulders now.
“Is there a problem with my plans?”
“What?” My voice cracked, and I forced a smile. “Nope. Not at all. I guess I assumed you had business in Edros, but if you’re headed to Galinaes, the fastest route would be to catch a ferry in Riverhold.”
“If you don’t want to accompany me to Galinaes, I’m fine with you taking the horse to Misty Pass tomorrow morning. You don’t need to stick?—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off. “No more talk of us separating. You need me, and it’s clear that I still need you for some things. We’re sticking together. I want to help you uncover your brother’s killer so you can return home.”
Trust me, I understood what it was like being away from home.
“Lockhart?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re weird,” Nylian murmured with a hint of a smile in his voice.
Stretching my legs out in front of me, I relaxed against the saddle as best I could and folded my hands behind my head. “You know, I might not remember it, but I have this funny feeling that I’ve been hearing that my entire life.”
A noise escaped Nylian that I was willing to bet was a laugh. Maybe a snicker. But it was progress. I opened my mouth to fling another teasing remark in his direction, when the elf jumped to his feet as if marionette strings had pulled him up. My heart leaped into my throat as I watched his sword slide from its sheath.
The same noise reached my ears as I less than gracefully rolled to my feet. Something was moving through the forest, coming closer to us.
Something fucking big, if the snapping of branches was anything to go by.
Trembling fingers grabbed a knife from my waist. It was flat and a dull, matte silver. Just the feel and weight of it said it was a throwing knife. I wouldn’t want to try any close-quarters combat with this thing. Of course, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thrown anything when my life had depended on accuracy. Could I even hit my target?
“The assholes from the inn?” I whispered.
Nylian gave the tiniest shake of his head, his narrowed gaze locked on the deep black shadows of the forest. “Not likely.”
“Do we try to make a run for it with the horses?”