Page 44 of Claws of Death

Shaking my head, I sheathe my dagger, casting my gaze on the feather once more. “What if they all disappeared?”

“It’s more likely they are dead,” Royad gravely muses, head hung as if in respect for brothers lost in battle.

For a long moment, we all stand in silence. Even Clio doesn’t comment, her sharp fairy tongue mute for once as she watches us absorb the fact that our search might be in vain.

Eventually, Myron clears his throat, voice hoarse as he tells us, “We’ll search for the missing fairies first.” What he doesn’t need to add is the silent hope that maybe we’ll come across a track that leads us to the Crows.

It’s the fourth day when we get close to the Tavrasian border. There’s been no sign of the Flames or the Crows. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise that whatever’s left of Myron’s people hasn’t shown up. Even death would be better than being captured by the Flames. No one has mentioned that option, probably out of fear it might be true.

Clio site-hops Kaira and me while the Crows fly the whole distance, gleaning for signs of fires or rogue features. It seems Recienne wasn’t lying about the series of attacks. There are burn marks all over the borderlands, some fresh like from a few days ago, and some older, fresh ferns and blades of grass pushing through the layer of ash. Whenever we come across one of them, Clio’s anger rises an inch higher until, by the time we make it near Jeseida’s residence, the female is ready to slaughter the first creature looking at her the wrong way.

I’ve seen her protective of her mate before, but this is the wrath of a princess whose people have been wronged.

“The Flames have lived in this region since long before the Crows ever invaded Askarea,” Kaira reminds me. “After the Crows took our home in the Seeing Forest, we had to find other niches of this realm to survive.”

I remember the Flames have scattered throughout the lands, some even as far as the Southern Continent.

“What Jeseida built here”—she points at the estate whose roofs are peeking through the treetops—“is more than a shiny home. It’s the beginning of a new generation of Flames. Those who will stop at nothing to claim what they believe is theirs.”

“They can have the forest they burned down for all that I care,” I murmur under my breath, scooting to the side to make room for Myron as he squeezes into our vantage point between a copse of firs and some hazel bushes. Herinor and Silas are keeping watch in their bird forms high up in the branches while Clio, Kaira, Myron, and Royad are talking strategy to scout if the fairies are really here.

“Thank the Guardians you don’t have a say in who gets the Seeing Forest,” Clio snarks, and I’m surprised she doesn’t freeze me over with the look she gives me.

“She’s working with Ephegos.” Myron hides the hurt in his tone, but the betrayal of his friend still stings, I can tell. “That alone is reason to never let her get a foothold again. Once we’ve uprooted her,” he adds with gritted teeth.

The anger runs deep. As deep as Clio’s, even if for a different reason.

“I wonder where he keeps the other traitors,” Royad throws in, ducking slightly to gain a better view on the estate. “They can’t possibly all fit in there.”

“How many did he take?” Clio takes a swig from the waterskin, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. I can’t imagine this female in finery and tiaras, no matter if she’s a princess. Perhaps she’s the best version of a princess; one who doesn’t shy away from saving her people with her own hands.

I still don’t know how I feel about King Recienne not bothering to make a trip to the locations of the attacks. Perhaps his sister has some insight. “Doesn’t Recienne put on leathers and fight every once in a while?”

“I know he did in the Crow war,” Myron notes, shifting his weight to glance at the princess.

Clio bites her lip, holding back words that obviously aren’t meant for us. It shouldn’t hurt that she’s keeping secrets; after all, she’s centuries older than me and couldn’t possibly share all her stories in one human lifetime, but the bitter taste of being left out spreads on my tongue, and it takes more effort than it should not to push for an answer she doesn’t want to give.

“He needs to look after his own priorities right now.” It’s all she says, and it’s a weak excuse.

“His people should be his priority,” Royad says with unusual bite.

“They are. That’s why I’m here.” And that’s that. Clio’s eyes are back on the estate where black birds are rising from the roof, taking off south.

Myron’s arm wraps around me so fast I barely manage a breath before he’s flattened me beneath the low branches of the closest fir. He’s covering me with his body, arms braced on each side of my shoulders, ocean gaze locked on mine as we listen to the wingbeats in the distance. My heightened senses are alert and awake, taking in the danger of being spotted by what must have been Crow Fae in their bird form.

That’s not the only thing I perceive, though. The scent of fresh moss, of evergreens and damp soil, and … Myron. His scent is so prominent in my nose that I almost lose my breath. Then there’s the feel of him. Even with two layers of leather between us, I can feel his powerful build. I should be focusing on Silas and Royad’s whisper, I know, but all I can see is Myron. His eyes holding the enigma of the ocean and filled with awareness as he scans my face, his lashes two frames of night silk, his strong, stubbled jaw. His mouth…

My lips are parting, ready to taste him, and were it not for Clio’s jab in Myron’s bicep—which he deems with a growl of warning—I’d forget why we’re here on the ground with his hips settled against mine and the intent of a predator on me.

“Save it for when you’re alone, stallion.” Clio is already getting to her hands and knees, crawling through the thicket back to where prying eyes from the sky cannot reach.

I don’t protest when Myron pushes up and slides off me, but I do bemoan the feel of him in an instant. I can’t lose him again.

So, I’ll happily fight to make sure neither Erina nor Ephegos nor the Flames get to separate us again.

And the first step is to earn Recienne’s full support.

Ayna

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