Page 55 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

I know.Thalon had relentlessly hounded it into her a thousand times. Then a thousand more.

So why couldn’t she stop looking off into the sea of tents? Even when her heart had almost burst in a mound of panic an hour ago and her legs had knocked her to the ground to endure one of Thalon’s blows to her gut, she hadn’t peeled her eyes from the east.

Toward the Raven’s camp.

Why couldn’t she stop imagining a burst of shadow in the corner of her eye … only to turn and see empty space and grass dancing in the breeze?

Something feltwrong.So horribly wrong.

She couldn’t shake the feeling. Her fingertips ached terribly enough that even the mere thought of picking up her spilled sword caused pain to shoot up her wrist.

A sharp jolt shot through her heart. Something pulled at her. Calling to her before her head pivoted in the dirt.

Her mind narrowed as if she could find him inside, searching for him like a tethered connection.

But it was pointless calling to him. He hadn’t answered yet—he wouldn’t now.

The others in the arena hardly watched as Thalon’s eyes softened. He extended his palm, regarding the panicked expression on her face. “Garrik’s been gone for only two hours. You needn’t worry about him.” His throat bobbed slightly. “He’ll return before nightfall.” Even with the forged smile, it was clear he didn’t believe it.

A heartbeat later, Thalon pulled her to her feet and brushed dirt off her unique leathers.

Alora’s stomach nearly hollowed out. “Something iswrong, Thalon. I can feel it.” Worried sapphires raked across the arena, resting on the trees to the east.

Something was very,verywrong.

Garrik still hadn’t returned.

An hour later, Alora lifted her gaze from the book settled across from her and Eldacar and propped her cheek against her fist. She must’ve been turning the pages absentmindedly for some time because the chair beside her scraped against the floor of the library and a warm shoulder bumped into hers, stirring her to look into those kind brown eyes.

Alora blinked down at the parchment, where inked markings of a strange language twisted in her mind’s eye, transforming what should have been simple practice sentences into confusion and frustration. She simply couldn’t focus, couldn’t repeat the words and?—

“Maybe we should train with starfire, instead?” Eldacar suggested with a knowing grin. He carefully closed the bookin front of her and returned it to the pile she’d already gone through countless times over the last few weeks.

She turned to him, seeing her anxious expression in the reflection of his glasses.

Nothing other than … worry. Terrible worry.

No smile there—and there wasn’t going to be because she didn’t want to train. Didn’t want to learn any more of the language Garrik spoke. Didn’t want to eat or read or doanything.

Not until Garrik returned.

Alora surveyedevery soldier patrolling past their fireside that evening. And each time, her heart stopped until the firelight illuminated their face.

Not him.

It was never him.

Thalon was wrong. The sun had traded the moon for purchase. Nightfall. And Garrik still hadn’t returned.

The growing ache that plagued her heart was unbearable. She had felt something stab at it hours ago, and then, silence ever since.

Alora stood from the dirt. She couldn’t take it anymore.

Fire crackled near her feet as Jade stirred an iron pot, unafraid of the flames. Beside her, Aiden spun a wild tale to Calla, who had joined them for dinner. Some grand adventure on the Cursed Sails—something about an underwater city and a seashell and a female with a fish’s tail.

Alora wasn’t bothered to care. Too tormented by her own thoughts to pay attention.

Only one thing mattered.

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